Tuesday, July 01, 2008

Brain Update

The BrainI'm not bent on world conquest to the degree that the Brain is, but I have the same pale noggin and bags under my eyes. I think that's as far as the comparison can really go (unless somebody wants to make a crack about my shortness of stature). Brain may have been experimented on and possibly gets lots of shots, but I'm pretty sure they don't have to give him little tiny mouse MRIs.

I got good news about my recent brain MRI: The scan shows no new lesions, and the existing ones are reduced in size. Brain mets do not automatically go away; once they're killed, they either can sit there, inert, for quite a while, or sometimes they get reabsorbed by the body and disposed of.

At my appointment today it was decided to delay my next paracentesis until Monday so as to not do it too early--Brian and I are leaving for New York to visit his brother Scott and the various nieces and nephews for the Fourth of July. I also found out my liver function numbers are improved, and that I would be getting infused today. I had to walk over to "Med Inn" which is actually a hotel in the hospital for out of town patients and family which has treatment areas that are semi-private and they had a strolling massage-giver offering foot or back or neck rubs or whatever. They don't do that at regular infusion! And regular infusion is always out of bagels.

Pinky and the BrainSince the swelling in my brain is down and my cognitive function seems pretty much normal, I can set aside my fears I was going to end up incoherent and illogical as Brain's cohort, Pinky. I hope no more pesky lesions crop up.

"Pinky, are you pondering what I'm pondering?"

"I think so, Brain, but where are we going to find men's underpants that fit?"

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Thursday, February 14, 2008

Because Brain Mets Just Aren't Enough:


Shingles, which has me crabby.

Talk about insult to injury--I've been almost unreasonably optimistic and chipper since regaining my ability to communicate. I started noticing a couple of blisterlike red spots on my neck a few days ago and thought perhaps it was a reaction to the radiation. They were uncomfortable, so I put lotion on them. Today they had doubled in number. They are irritated when anything touches them, they itch, and moving my head makes the skin stretch and become more uncomfortable.

This morning I was told three times that lotion can intensify the beams and make it worse, so it was really my fault.

The techs went to get the nurse, who went to get Dr. Hayman, who decided it might be shingles and went to get a physician's assistant, who concurred but went to call the department of dermatology to have me see them today.

The doctorlet at the department of dermatology decided it was shingles, but went to get one of the supervising doctors, who agreed completely. They then asked me if it would be ok for the medical students to come and look. I said "ok," not realizing there would be about ten of them, a few of whom wanted to poke and prod. (I hope they've already had chicken-pox.) Then I had one of the blisters scraped, and under a microscope they detected a viral load, so I now get to take--in addition to the stuff I was given for the brain thing--the most enormous dark blue pills I have ever seen in my life. Dermatology is doing follow-up tests, as well.

At least Dr. Hayman told me it wasn't related to the radiation per se (I wonder if the steroid is suppressing my immune system) since it is directed at my brain and not at my neck/chest area. What, am I under stress or something?

The good news about today is that Brian and I went to Zingerman's in Ann Arbor for some really excellent sandwiches and baked goods. I now know where to get gelato, too. Their foods all rock, and you might want to check them out. We also managed to get out of a ticket possibly by having a hospital Radiation Oncology tag hanging from the rear-view mirror.

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Wednesday, February 06, 2008

You Are Not Morg or I-Morg

Sunday I was afflicted with aphasia.

I had posted to a bulletin board and was flipping back and forth with Brian between Alias, Puppy Bowl IV, and the Superbowl. I was also trying to begin knitting a hat, and started having trouble counting my cast-on stitches.

I suddenly felt very stupid. In addition to actually having problems counting, I couldn't remember how to finish casting on. Then I couldn't figure out how to start knitting the round.

Then I got tired of watching Alias, so I tried to tell Brian that he could watch the Superbowl, since we had already seen most of a showing of Puppy Bowl.

The words wouldn't come out.

I got frustrated, Brian got frustrated with me, so I went upstairs to take a bath. When Brian tried to ask me what was wrong, I really couldn't explain or do anything much more than cry. I could pretty much only say "yes," "no," and "oh Lord." So he dialed the on-call oncologist's number, and we were told to go to the emergency room at U of M, where they tried to ask me dizzying questions I couldn't answer, and gave me various scans, which indicated positive for brain metastases.

I was admitted and have so far been through three whole-brain radiation treatments. I will undergo fourteen altogether.

What really helped me recover speech and thinking (I couldn't remember properly the days of the week or months of the year--I couldn't remember our dog's name; I couldn't spell "Elkins" or "Yanosko") was a tiny steroid pill. I have been evaluated by a speech therapist, who believes I am doing just fine. The brain radiation might cause some temporary loss of memory or cognition, but it may be possible to increase the steroid. I have also heard a lot of positive stories about people being successfully treated for brain mets so I am very hopeful.

It was terribly frightening, but we will deal with this.

For now I feel like I've had the brain helmet put on and could operate on Spock if I needed to.

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