MRI update

{Congrats to Robin S., the winner of the Starbucks gift card from my previous post!}

“It’ll be ok. It’s probably not that big of a deal. It’s not even for sure. Every day people hear much worse news than this. Besides, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, Chrissy.” That’s what I keep telling myself as I replay the conversation with my neurosurgeon from a week ago.

And for the most part, the lines I feed myself calm me enough to overcome the emotions that are fighting to break loose and cause me to cry like a little girl.

“We’re not sure if this is new, or we just hadn’t seen it before,” he explained as he showed me the MRI of my optic nerve. It is distorted. Not perfect, like the opposing optic nerve. One of the many miracles from my surgery was that the optic nerve was not entwined with the tumor. Consequently, an MRI was never done of that specific region. That is, until a few weeks back, when I went into the tube for an hour and a half instead of the usual 45 minutes. For reasons unbeknownst to me, my neurosurgeon ordered an MRI of the brain and the optic nerve.

And viola, there was something new. Or, as he explained, maybe it wasn’t new and they just hadn’t know it was there.

"Perfect. Now we have two areas to track," I thought. No big deal. It’s nothing two Valium can’t handle for the extended stay in the claustrophobic noise machine.

All joking aside, the doctor seemed concerned. We bumped it up to two MRIs and a CAT scan six months out. We’re going to watch closely to be sure there is no change on the optic nerve, since part of it is gone, or distorted, or something…we just don’t have enough information to be sure at this point.

The largest concern with the optic nerve having something going on is that there cannot be any pressure put on this area by tumor (he didn’t explain why, he just kept saying it). And then he explained that if the tumor grew in the optic nerve, the surgery required would be really bad, the kind of surgery he doesn’t want to do on anyone.

And then he said the word…radiation. It’s not for sure, but he thinks with the new findings, we should begin thinking about radiation. Now that we have a baseline of the optic nerve, in six months tests will be repeated, and off I will go to see a specialist to discuss radiation. He explained that it’s probably a safer avenue to travel and that we need to be doing all we can to avoid surgery in this area. To avoid surgery, the tumor must not grow. In six months, another assessment will be made, but he advised me that at this point, the risks of radiation would be acceptable to avoid surgery.

And so for a week I have been mulling this over in my brain. Emotions are like a bouncy ball. I’m fine, I’m sad, I’m fine, I’m mad, I’m fine, I’m devastated…you get the picture. I know, it’s supposedly not that big of a deal—it’s not cancer. I will make it through it. And it’s not even for sure.

It’s like this. When I went in for surgery the first time, our pastor visited and shared a phrase I have not forgotten. He said, “Any surgery on yourself is major surgery.” Isn’t that the truth? I mean, tonsillectomy, wisdom teeth being removed, appendectomy, C-section…no matter how major or minor, when you’re the patient, they’re all major.

And so a little, a lot, whatever amount it may be…I only have one brain, and radiation is going to be major. I will make it. I will be fine. I was just hoping to be undergoing LESS tests at the two year mark, not more.

Will you please pray with me that there will be absolutely no change in the optic nerve, or the region where the major tumor was? I know my God is a God that answers prayers. I know He hears His people cry out for miracles.

Phil 4:4-7 “Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I will say, rejoice! Let your gentleness to known to all men. The Lord is at hand. Be anxious for nothing but in everything, by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.”