Time to turn into another water balloon

Today I had met with my radiologist for the first time in three years; we were apparently destined to meet again due to the stubborn nature of my mostly hollow left brain lobe.  The only thing that came up in the appointment was all the other appointment that will be made in the next three weeks.  So, here is my life with appointments over the next three weeks:

• 2nd appointment:  Neurological surgeon (Dr. O) - radiologist secretary called him up today with no luck.
• 3rd appointment:  After locating the lost Dr. O, an appointment with radiology for a new CAT scan and to have another face mask made - my first one from 2013 still hangs in my classroom; as far as the kids know it means that "I'm always watching you . . " (think of a sterotypical horror movie)
• 4th appointment:  This will be a dry-run of the radiation/laser surgery where everyone involved will do a "practice" round with me present to make sure that everything works and everyone knows what to do.  I completely plan to sticking my tongue out and making funny faces to see if they notice.
• 5th appointment:  SRS (Is is bad that I really am thinking that is going to be pretty cool that they will be cutting up and frying up part of my mutated brain without me being knocked out?  Being a biology nerd can be very fun sometimes ;)
• 6th appointment:  MRI to see any changes after the SRS
• 7th appointment:  Time to see the oncologist on the MRI results
• 8th appointment:  Headed back to the radiologist to go over the same MRI results.

Like everything that is ever deemed as important, the dates for none of these events have been determined.  If nothing else this is still better than my four week round of radiation therapy from 2013; I never did turn into a X-Men quality mutant from that sadly.  The only mutant I will turn into this time is another water-retaining human thanks to the steroids they will be feeding me for about a month after my SRS.  UGH.  I do believe I will be hitting up Goodwill in the near future in preparation for my increase in size.  Stupid, stupid, stupid, steroids.  This could be only be better if I was traveling back in time to turn into Hulk Hogan.  Stupid steroids.

My brain and Jeopardy

Here is the official verdict from the doctors in the form of Jeopardy:

Me:  "I'll take 'Tumor Treatment' for 200."

Alex Trebek:  "The treatment recommended by three doctors to prevent the return of a brain tumor."

Me:  "What is radiation?"

Alex Trebek:  "Correct."

Me:  "I'll take 'Tumor Treatment' again for 400."

Alex Trebek:  "The meaning of the acronym SRS"

Me:  "What is stereotactic radiosurgery?"

Alex Trebek:  "Correct. Now for our last question in Double Jeopardy; definition of stereotactic radiosurgery."

Me:  "What is a form of high radiation focused in a small area destroying focused cells?"

If Jeopardy was only on medical terminology I could be rich.

To make it short, I will have SRS done.  SRS is like a combination of radiation treatment and laser surgery; the radiation will kill any cells it is aimed at, and the laser effect will seal off any cells there that should be burned at the stake (literally).  Over the couple days  I should be flooded with information from the radiologist on when this will happen and how many days the remake of the Salem brain tumor witch trials will occur.  In the meantime, enjoy one of the best Jeopardy answers ever recorded:

If only I could do a T-chart in Blogger

Sorry it has been so long without an update; everything had been going well so there really was not a large reason to post.  So lets start things off with the positive from my last MRI back in February . . .

Last February I had one of the boring, but needed, MRI update check-ups and results were very good. There was a change since the last MRI, but change was a very happy occurrence.  Most of the veins that previously fed my brain tumor until it was obese had stopped operating.  For once having veins that were useless was a good thing.  The word from Dr. Wagner (my oncologist) was since I was yet to have an MRI with not-so-good results that my dates with the MRI machine would be only needed every six months if my next date in March went well.  YES!

Now to flip the coin . . .

Today with the oncology doctor I learned that my tumor is very stubborn.  Here is the good stuff:

"There is a postoperative cavity and encepalomalacia within the left temporal lobe including a moderate T2 hypersensitvity and the signal abnormality is largely unchanged compared to 2/9/15."

Translation:  No change, brain is still doing well and the mutated portion is still showing no signed of being returned due to the very active bullying and beating previously in treatment

That was good news to hear, and made my husband and I happy since we had just finished a home inspection to be foster parents earlier in the week.  (Clearly my husband has a brain tumor as well since we actually enjoyed the deep house cleaning that happened before that inspection).  Anyway, here is the not so good news:

"However, there is one focal area of soft tissue signal (FLAIR hyperintense) measuring approximately 7 mm with in the postoperative region adjacent to the left temporal calvarium with dense enhancement, and both the enhancement and the size of the soft tissue abnormality have increased compared to prior studies.  While there is no hyperfusion identified, the finding are worrisome for recurrence."

Translation:  MRI doctors are really good at run-on sentences, and the spot where my tumor was removed is showing some signs that it might be rising from the dead.  Crap.

This all means that the area around where the tumor was removed is doing great, while the area inside the cavity where the tumor used to reside is being its normal rebellious self.  Apparently this jerk is a beautiful mutant on the outside, but a evil vampire on the inside.

On Monday my oncologist, former radiologist, and former surgeon will meet to debate/discuss what should be done next since I still do not have a tumor, but my brain is acting like there is one cloning itself in my near future.  The option that have already been brought up are:
-  surgery to remove the tumor birth canal (It would be a minor surgery with only very small scars      since there is no viable brain tissue still in the area.  Apparently lasers would be involved; now          that sounds like they will be bringing in Cyclops from the X-Men - I would not mind that.)
-  receive another dosage of radiation (This round would be more focused, and the concentration          would be lower than previously given since the site they need to focus on is only 7mm as opposed      to the original softball size "friend".  At least I know that I can't lose too much more hair on the          left side of my scalp)
-  chemotherapy (Weight loss in my future and being forced to eat healthy?  Not too bad!)

So, there is your update.  I am completely planning on going with whatever plan the doctors recommend come the expected call on Tuesday.  Here's hoping for mutant powers!