The Amazing World of the Bubble People

No, this is not the beginning of a science fiction novel. I had the day off of work on Friday, and as I was sitting in a restaurant, thankfully finished eating and getting ready to leave, in the booth behind me and my daughter, loud enough so that I could hear clearly, and I am sure, at least every booth and table in the immediate vicinity as well, the girl was speaking to the other girl who was with her. Now, that, in itself, isn't bad at all, but then I began to hear words and phrases that were less than appetizing, like "infection in the mucous" and "cleaning out wounds" and the more I could hear, the more shocked I became. My daughter and I could not get out of the restaurant fast enough, and I felt sorry for the people who were still held captive as she read her all too specific medical email to her lunch companion. I was appalled. As I walked to the car, I loudly asked, "What is wrong with people?" What is wrong with people? Each day I witness something so selfish or self-absorbed that I think, it can't possibly get any worse. We have become a society of Bubble People. Everyone operates as if they are in their own little bubble. They say what they want, do what they want, act how they want without a care or concern as to who they affect around them. It happens in restaurants, on the road, in theaters, waiting rooms, EVERYWHERE! A couple of years ago I sat in a doctor's waiting room hearing every detail of how this woman had discovered her husband was cheating that morning. I had nowhere to go. Nowhere to escape, much like the poor people in the restaurant who had to listen to stories of infection and mucous while they were trying to enjoy their chicken tenders or potato skins. I have wondered whether one day I will be shot coming out of a movie theater because I will shout out in a darkened theater to the rude ass who will not stop talking to SHUT UP! What has happened to modesty, discretion, decorum and just plain manners? I guess some people think  manners are old fashioned. I am not talking about using the right fork. I am talking about, as my grandmother used to say, minding our P's and Q's, being polite and kind to others. Thinking before we speak We need to return to a society that cares about each other, and not just for show. If it's a big cause with a telethon, we're all on board. We're good at the flashy, splashy caring. I'm just talking about the wave of the hand as a thank you when I let you into traffic. Now, I know there re plenty of caring people in the world.  I just wish the jerks weren't rolling over the rest of us! If you're with me people, let's start popping some bubbles!

A Follow Up on Mike

Yesterday I wrote a blog about how my pituitary tumor, christened Mike Wazowski by me, was not totally gone. I feel like there were some conclusions drawn because I was unclear. So, if I can't clear up my brain right now, I do want to clear up the understanding of what I'm experiencing and hopefully help others who are going through this. Let me say this right off the bat. THIS IS NOT CANCEROUS IN ANY WAY, SHAPE OR FORM!! Pathology was done on the original Mike, and he is benign. Also, from my understanding, this didn't grow back, it was leftover, so to speak. That doesn't mean it won't grow. That's what the follow up MRI's are for. Speaking of the MRI's, I do have insurance, and they are covered, but my cost is $750 at least, which, to me, might as well be the $2400 because I can't afford either. I am not worried! God has taken care of me to this point. He's not going to stop now. He has sent me a legion of angels in all of you, my friends and family. So if Mike is going to stick around, he's got a fight on his hands! Blessings and love to you all! ❤❤❤❤

I Thought You Were Gone, Mike!

A month ago I posted the results of my follow up with the eye doctor after my tumor was removed, and the results were amazing, even by his standards. Almost all of my peripheral vision has been restored, and still could improve more with time. Yay! I guess such great results kind of set me up on a mountaintop about this whole experience that it’s all over, and life is, once again, back to normal, or as normal as my life is. Not so, my friend. Last week I had my follow up with the neurosurgeon after my New Year’s Eve MRI, 2 months post tumor removal. I looked at the CD they give you. It definitely looked different and that hole was no longer full of the big white spot as you see in the picture, but I have no idea what I’m looking at. As I sat in Dr. Sahni’s office last week waiting for him to come in, I was imagining what he’d say:

Dr. Sahni: Well, Miss Moore, the tumor is totally gone. Dr. Astruc says your vision is almost completely back to normal, so unless you have any problems, I’ll see you in a year. Nice to meet you. Good luck!

That’s not exactly how it went. It’s nothing earth shattering, but there is still some of the tumor left. It is now in the bottom of the cavity where my pituitary gland lives and far away from my optic nerves, so nothing is being affected. It’s just sitting there, and it might just sit there forever, which would be the preferred scenario, but it could also grow back. Cue sound effect of Boos and hissing from the crowd. Apparently it was huge! In fact, Dr. Sahni said that many surgeons would not have removed it by the method mine was removed, through the nasal cavity. It would have been the “movie version” of brain surgery, shaved head, boring into the skull, through the brain stuff. As large as it was, and given the way it was removed, the doctor could not be overly aggressive because that could have caused some permanent damage. So, I am sure you are wondering what happens now. Well, you are if you’re still reading this. In 4 months I have another MRI, cha ching $$, $2400.00, to see if it has grown. If it has, we do the whole thing all over again, or if it hasn’t, we wait, the word everybody loves to hear. In another four months from July we do another MRI, cha ching $$, another $2400, to see if it’s grown, if it still is just sitting there, as my grandmother used to say, like a bump on a log, we wait 6 months, and you guessed it, another MRI. It seems Mike Wasowski just couldn’t bear to leave his Boo. But this isn’t a Disney movie, and I would have preferred for Mike to have just walked back into that closet and shredded my door for good!