Saturday, May 24, 2014

Eight Year GBM Anniversary with a Hitch

It was eight years ago on Memorial Day weekend that Ted was first diagnosed.  Despite the fact we've lived with this cancer hanging over our heads, we have done our best to keep moving forward and live our lives with much joy and love. Unfortunately as this anniversary nears, Ted's last MRI had something suspicious on it.

He had a clean MRI in December, but when we got back from Arizona I noticed something strange.  He reached for our salt shaker and froze.  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed his arm was extended, but he wasn't moving.  When I looked at him, he seemed to be dazed.  I asked what was wrong. He said he was trying to decide if he wanted salt or not.  Recently our dear friend, who has been GBM free for almost as long as Ted, has had a relapse. Her tumor is back.  She insisted we get him checked out, which I of course insisted too, so he had an MRI in April.

The results showed a "tiny enhancement" on the left frontal lobe.  His first tumor was on the right side.  At this moment in time, they aren't sure what it means, so he will be having another MRI on June 4 to see if there is progression. Since his first diagnosis, only once has there been something show up on his MRI that was somewhat scary, but this happened within the first year of diagnosis and it went away on its own, so all of these years we have seen only good results.

Ted of course isn't worried.  As a matter of fact. I had gotten so used to the good MRIs that for the first time, I didn't even read the results of his last one.  I am normally right on top of it, but when Ted got the last results (we always get them before his visit with the doctor) he told me all was well.  I believed him.  His doctor's appointment was during my work hours, so I couldn't be there. When he came back from the visit, he told me that he needed another MRI in two months.  I really scratched my head over that one.  Why? I asked.  He said that the doctor wanted a "fresh" MRI for her next brain consortium.  I thought this was very odd, so I asked Ted to show me the results.  I unfortunately read them on my way out the door to work.  I felt like I'd been kicked in the gut, and it took all of my strength not to turn into a messy pile of tears in front of my students. I honestly don't think he was trying to keep the news from me. I think he truly isn't worried and didn't think there was anything worth mentioning.

So now, until June 4 comes around, I live on pins and needles.  Part of me is happy to not have the full picture yet because that means the world is still spinning and I can go about my day as normally as possible.  I know that after June 4 our world could go spinning out of control, so right now there is still peace and I am enjoying that peace as much as I can.  We are about to take our daily walk and then perhaps go play disc gold.  It's just another day.