It Might Be a Tumor

 

 If this is the first time you've encountered this scene, I highly recommend you add Kindergarten Cop to your movie watching list. It's a classic. This scene is funny because, of course, he doesn't have a tumor. He has a headache because this man who has nothing to do with children in his normal life is attempting to wrangle a class full of Kindergarteners. But I feel more and more things when I watch this scene today.

 Ten years ago, if I had wondered if I had a brain tumor when I was dealing with a particularly bad headache, most people would have called me a hypochondriac. Today, on the other hand, I actually do have a tumor. If you're just tuning in and this news has caught you by surprise, you can catch up here. Almost two years ago, my surgeon resected *about* 75% of it. I write that in such uncertain terms because we truly are uncertain. Turns out that MRI measurements are terribly fallible and can have a margin of error that is about the size they estimate my tumor to have been after my surgery. So, although the subsequent MRIs have returned with measurements that indicate it may have grown as much as double in size or more, my Neuro Radio Oncologist doesn't see that there is any notable growth at all. I talk about this more here. So where does this leave me? 

 As far as my interaction with the doctors go, I'm on a 6-month cycle of having brain MRIs and checking in with my team at the Alvord Brain Tumor Center. But for the day to day it has some more subtle implications. When I had my most recent two MRIs done, I was experiencing several symptoms that *could* have to do with the tumor. They are symptoms that are very common for my type of tumor, a Pilocytic Astrocytoma, and in my location, the 4th ventricle. Now by common I mean that they have been mentioned in the small handful of studies that have been done. That said, just because I have a headache and other people who have had Intraventricular PAs have also had headaches, doesn't mean that my headache is because I have a tumor. It could simply be some gluten I got accidentally on purpose recently. Ok, I'll be honest. I wanted the gluten. I had the gluten. I'm not sorry. 

 This cycle of, "Is it the tumor?" runs through mine and my husband's minds almost constantly. As my husband puts it, my tumor "casts a shadow" on everything we do. Does that help anything? Of course not, but how exactly do you stop thinking about it? It's not that I'm afraid of the tumor, or what it might be doing, I just don't know where to ascribe blame.

 Why does it matter? If my headache is because of gluten exposure, I need to take some ibuprofen, rest, and drink plenty of water. If my headache is because of anything but the tumor then I need to avoid Excedrin because it can cause rebound headaches. But if my headache is because of my tumor, then it doesn't really matter, does it? I'll have a headache tomorrow whether I take Excedrin for my headache today or not and if the medicine helps me feel better today then I'll take it! You see how one could get trapped on this merry-go-round?

 And it's not just headaches. I'm having more memory issues this week as well. I shared this with my Bible study group and one of the ladies mentioned that she too had trouble with forgetting why she went into a room or what she was getting into the fridge for. That's not the kind of memory problems I'm talking about. Yesterday I remembered several times that I had Bible study this morning. But when I went to bed and when I woke up this morning, I had no clue whatsoever. I do Bible study EVERY Friday morning. This wasn't something new. In addition, when I got out of my shower this morning, I forgot how to do my morning routine. I usually brush my retainer, brush my teeth, wash my face, apply a serum to my face, apply a moisturizer to my face and then do my hair. I've done the same routine every morning for at least a decade. Today, when I stood in front of the mirror, I had no idea what to do. My mind was a blank. Eventually I figured out that I still had my retainer in and that didn't seem right, so I took it out and cleaned it. I got through getting ready in much the same way, doing whatever made sense to do next. But after each step I didn't receive some revelation of remembrance. At each point my mind was still blank and I didn't know what I was supposed to be doing. It was scary.

 So, was it the tumor? Maybe. That's the answer for EVERYTHING lately. That's annoying. More likely, it has to do with the 9 hours of jet lag I'm still recovering from. I've been home for a week now, and according to the Cleveland Clinic I should be over it by now, but things always take me longer to recover from, so that doesn't surprise me.

Here's the thing: Whenever I get nauseous, stumble into a wall, drop something, get a headache, or any other of a myriad of symptoms my first thought is, "Is it the tumor?" The second thought is, "Does it matter?" Until my team sees a notable growth on the scan, it's unlikely we will do anything, and the not-so-good news I got last year was that when we do do something about it, it will not improve my symptoms but make them somewhat worse.