Showing posts with label frustration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label frustration. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 9, 2016

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! 

Sunday, February 1, 2015

I Hope You Have One Just Like You

Have you ever heard these words uttered by a parent to their child in frustration after the child has done something less than stellar, "I hope you have one just like you?" The parent usually means it as a sort of jinx as in I hope one day you'll know just how I feel today with your own kid. Well, I don't remember if that was ever said to me by my parents. It probably was because God knows I did some majorly frustrating things when I was little, but if they did, thank the Lord it came true. In so many ways, my baby, Georgi, is just like me. We are both stubborn. We are both very independent. We both like to cook. In so many other ways she is totally her own person, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
Georgi wasn't really planned, not in the sense of exact timing. I had had one baby who had just turned 2 in September, and her father and I had decided that we would stop using birth control, and if it so happened that we got pregnant, it was meant for us to have a second child. I was playing the Ugly Duckling's Mother in a children's show the following May, and I found out I was expecting another baby. As with my first pregnancy, I didn't want to know what I was having, so the following February, in the blizzard of 1996, I traveled early one Thursday morning on February 1st to have my scheduled C-section, something my doctor and I had decided after complications with my first pregnancy. At 8:16 am, my OB announced in the surgical suite, "Indoor plumbing!," another little girl. I was very happy!
So many things have happened in the last 19 years, and I have shared stories before in this blog. My little snow angel baby is now a college girl, and I am so proud of all she is doing! I never worry about her! I totally trust her! How many moms say that about their 19 year olds? In so many ways she is all grown up, but in other ways she's still my little girl. She still calls me Mommy sometimes, and it's hard to let go of that tiny munchkin who drew on the wall with marker, but what an amazing friend I have gained! Happy Birthday, sweet girl! It's your birthday, but I'm the one who got the present.

"Luther said you could teach me somethin'. I already know how to drink."

  When I was 10 years old, back in 1973, my mom and I went to the movies. Not that eventful, right? Right, if that's all there was to it...