What a Long Strange Trip It's Been!

Well, it's about that time again. Time to update you on the status of the eviction of Mike Wasowski and his "Cysta." It has now been exactly 4 months since I had my second surgery to try to kick Mike Wasowski to the curb.
Quick Timeline of Events to this point: 
September 2015 - Can't see images in eye test. 1st Doc gives Dx of Macular Degeneration
                              Get second opinion. 2nd Doc discovers NO PERIPHERAL VISION thru Field                                  of Vision test. Suspects Pituitary Tumor affecting Optic Nerves. Referral to 
                              Neurosurgeon.
October 2015 -     MRI
                              Results show huge tumor taking up the space in the Brain called the Cella.                                        Immediate surgery is suggested.
                             I wait 2 weeks until my show closes
October 27, 2015 - Surgery to remove Tumor (Mike Wasowski)
December 31, 2015 - MRI
March 2016 -    Neurosurgeon breaks the news that there is some tumor left.
July 2016     -    MRI
September 2016 - Neurosurgeon tells me a cyst has developed where the tumor used to be. I will                                  need surgery AGAIN
                            2nd Field of Vision test shows cyst is already affecting vision
November 2, 2016 - 2nd surgery to remove leftover tumor and cyst. 
February 2017 - MRI

Which brings us to today. Well, there is good news and, well, not bad news, but not the "Yay! I'm rid of Mike forever!" news I'd hoped for. On February 20th I went to my wonderful Opthalmologist, Dr. Juan Astruc, the man responsible for diagnosing me correctly, and, not to be over dramatic, but for saving my eyesight and maybe my life. Another Field of Vision test, my third. My peripheral vision has returned 100% in both of my eyes. I am thrilled. He was too! You never really realize how much you use your peripheral vision until you lose it. Definitely encouraging news! Which brings me to my next Dr. Visit, Dr. Sahni, my neurosurgeon.
Most of us have lived somewhere for a long period of time, our childhood home or our first home with our spouse. It's hard to leave that to move on. Mike lived in my brain for at least 10 years. You might say he grew up there, and obviously he did not want to leave. Well, this time he's gone, but he left something behind for me to remember him. Truthfully, this memento was left from the very first surgery, but I had forgotten until I spoke with Dr. Sahni this past Tuesday. My daughter reminded me on the way home. Going back to post 1st surgery, there was a tiny bit of the tumor attached to a blood vessel. As you can imagine, that is a delicate situation. You don't just go cutting away next to something that could potentially cause a hemorrhage in your brain. After the 2nd surgery, I went on a prescription drug called Cabergoline. One of the uses for this drug is to suppress the growth of pituitary tumors: A.K.A. Mike Wasowski. Here's the not-so-great news: Mike isn't totally gone, but here's the good news: The memento he left behind hugging my blood vessel is shrinking thanks to my superhero, CABERGOLINE! Envision really buff guy in tights and a cape with a big "C" on his chest. 
So, where does this leave me in my saga with Mike Wasowski? We have not totally parted ways, and in June, I will have yet another MRI. If what's left behind is still shrinking, YAY! If not, or it's grown at all, we may have to go the radiation route, but I'm crossing that bridge when I come to it. For now I'm celebrating my restoration of vision and all the supportive friends and family I have on this wild ride!

Mike's "Cysta" is Already a Problem Tennant

Back in the middle of July I wrote an entry with an update on my tumor (Mike Wazowski). I know several of you have been following my progress through this whole tumor/brain surgery ordeal that started a little less than a year ago. Wow! That's hard to believe that it's been almost a year since the exisitence of Mike was first discovered. So much has happened in these last 10 months. When one is told that they have a tumor it strikes a chord. No matter what is said after that, you have this initial feeling of dread. It is probably because we've watched too many scenes in movies or on TV where the hero or heroine fights bravely to the death with a brain tumor, we instantly think CANCER. Mine was not cancer. It was never thought to be cancer, but knowing that, I almost took it too lightly at first. Even after everything was removed, (well, not everything) I felt fine, by my standards. I have my granfather's "shake it off" constitution, so I thought I'm feeling fine. It's all over, and even if there is something hanging around, I can live with it until it poses a threat. I had made all mylittle plans of waiting until May to have my surgery. Afterall that fits better with my schedule, and I can bank enough time at work to be able to take the month needed to recover at full salary instead of 2/3 or, worse, days with no salary at all. NEWSFLASH: Threat posed! Last week I saw Dr. Astruc, the eye specialist who first caught the problem, for a routine follow-up. Part of the follow-up was a field of vision test as I had had the previous 2 visits since Mike had mostly affected my peripheral vision. I was a little worried when I took the eye test, you know the one with the letters, and my right eye was acting the same way it had when all this mess started but not as bad. The last letter in the line was invisible, not the last 2. But, as we tend to do as humans, I rationalized. It's dark in here. Maybe I have something in my eye, etc., etc. Then I went to take the field of vision test, and we started the process of staring down the long tunnel and clicking the plastic piece in my hand every time I saw a flash of light. Back to the examining room to wait for Dr. Astruc. As he looked at the results compared with my results in May, I didn't hear what I wanted to hear. Left eye? PERFECT! Right eye? Another dark spot has appeared. Well, CRAP! He said that he thought the cyst was probably causing that, but he would send the report to Dr. Sahni, my neurosurgeon, and he would make the determination of how to proceed. I saw Dr. Astruc on a Wednesday, and Thursday morning I got a call from Dr. Sahni. To summarize: My plans to wait until May went out the window. In fact, when I told Dr. Sahni I wanted to wait until then, he chuckled and said, "No, you cannot wait until then." So as it stands now, I am shooting for the first week of November, almost exactly where I was a year ago. I'm not thrilled, but it is what it is. What else am I going to do? This time they will do what Dr. Sahni called an Inter-operative MRI. That means they will do the MRI while I am still under to make sure EVRYONE vacates! I can tell you one thing. Mike's not getting his security deposit back!

Some Days Are Diamonds. Some Days Are Stones.

It is hard to believe that 2 weeks ago I had brain surgery to remove a "huge" tumor. Thinking back on everything that has happened since September 30th, it seems I'm watching some Lifetime movie. I just thought I was getting older, and I was becoming, at 51, one of those people who doesn't like to drive at night. I just don't see as well. Then going to the eye doctor and being told I had the beginning stages of an incurable disease that would, eventually, leave me blind. Through urgings from others getting a second opinion and finding out that I do not have said disease, but I do have a brain tumor. And now, 2 weeks past surgery, and I am dealing with the aftermath. I have had my share of life changing events starting with infancy. Not even a month after I was born, I choked on some milk and stopped breathing. There were no infant CPR classes in 1963. My father did not know what to do. I do not know how long I was not breathing but finally after my father held me upside down, I began to breathe. When I was 11 years old I was in a car accident where the back window exploded in my face. I had over 100 stitches in my forehead, nose, eyelid and under my eye. Years of plastic surgery would follow. I lost a child before it was ever born. But this brain tumor thing. This has been the hardest to get used to. The hardest part for me is that it didn't seem that hard. The surgery, the recovery in the hospital, the trip home, they didn't seem to carry the weight that BRAIN SURGERY should get. Don't get me wrong. It's not easy. I haven't slept through the night since surgery. I wake up about every hour. I have headaches every morning. My nose feels like it will never be normal again. And then there's the hot flashes I have been having. You see, when all this started, I thought of nothing but the fact that this tumor, because of its placement, was messing with my vision, but what I didn't think about was the fact that it was also growing on my pituitary gland which controls all kinds of things in your body like temperature and metabolism and blood pressure. So now, I must see an Endocrinologist to see how out of whack my pituitary gland got over the last 10 years as this tumor took up residence between the 2 lobes of my brain and crowded out and squeezed the little pea sized gland that controls so much in my body. I have no idea what path this journey will take me on or where I'll end up, but I'm glad to be alive, and I'm learning to not beat myself up just because I haven't bounced right back to where I was. I'll take the diamonds when they come, but remember that navigating the stones is a big part of the journey.

Mike Wazowski

Well, ladies and gents, it is 12:20 AM on the day of my surgery. I have eaten my last morsel and drunk my last sip of water. In 5 short hours I will be on my way to the hospital for brain surgery. As the witching hour approaches, it seems surreal. This morning around 8AM I will go to sleep, and when I wake up about 5 hours later, this tumor will be gone. There are so many things I wonder about. How will I feel? What will my vision be like? How much have I just gotten used to? Of course, the big one, how much pain will I feel? I will be honest. I am a tad bit apprehensive. The anticipation is always far worse than the actual event. But tonight as I was riding around taking care of last minute things, something wonderful was happening, My phone was blowing up with friends and family texting and posting to Facebook their loving thoughts and prayers. I went to an event on Sunday night for the Richmond Theatre Community. My night was filled with hugs and squeezes and kisses all wishing me well and surrounding me with love! How can things not go well today? 

You may be wondering about the title of this post. My tumor is pretty round, and it has a small dark spot in the center, an eye, if you will, so I have named it Mike Wazowski, after the character in "Monsters, Inc." Mikey, my friend, time to exit stage right, and forget about a sequel!

See you on the other side, my friends.