Good News, as These Things Go

I had my MRI today. More about that below because OH MY GOD DID THAT SUCK. But it's done and they have the results back.

They found no evidence of any cancer beyond the known site. So that is good news. I'm sure they have to throw in a disclaimer about nothing being a 100% guarantee, blah blah blah blah, but the upshot is that all evidence to this point indicates I am not riddled with tumors. I have one cancerous tumor, in one spot, and they know where it is, and it's a really sluggish one that isn't doing much. Kind of like most of the Browns' wide receivers, but a good quality in a cancerous tumor (I'm going to try to get in one obligatory dumb sports crack in each of these posts just to see if I can).

I also had a blood draw for some genetic testing. I may get some disquieting results from that, which may mean a change of plans, but for now my treatment is going to be a lumpectomy plus radiation. As long as no troublesome cells show up when they test the sentinel lymph node during surgery, I won't need chemotherapy, and will simply have to rely on the Browns and Johnny Manziel to cause me to vomit and lose my hair. If I do have to have chemo, I will want a) henna tattoos on my head, and b) an Uma Thurman Pulp Fiction wig, because if you have cancer you get to have whatever stupid-ass thing you want.

Also, now is the part where I talk about the MRI, which by the way sucked. It was awful. I didn't mind the confined space--I'm not claustrophobic. I didn't mind the loud, weird, bizarrely repetitive noises. It just made me think of being in a dance club somewhere. Really if they'd just given me a whiskey sour or a margarita I might have been OK but nnnooooooo. No, that part that was bad was that I had both my arms up over my head and was lying face down in the machine. If I'd been lying on my back with my arms at my sides, I'd have been fine. I could have gone on twice as long. But that was....excruciating, really. I was fine for 10 minutes, but the MRI was 20 minutes long. Hell, I didn't flinch when I got tattooed for two hours. But after 10 minutes of this bullshit I was really uncomfortable. And once you're uncomfortable in that kind of a position, in an enclosed space with loud noises all around you, your head really starts screwing with you. After about 13-14 minutes I was asking them to stop or pause just so I could put my arms down for 30 seconds and re-position myself. This was not an option. Then my face muscles started twitching. I started being afraid I was going to drool in the machine and screw up the results. Another 3 minutes into it and I was ready to start reminding them loudly that the Geneva Convention says that forcing the body into stress positions is an internationally-recognized form of torture AND I AM TOTALLY SERIOUS, SHUT UP! Really, if I'm going to be having a lot more of these stupid things (and I suspect I am), we're going to have to find a way to work this out.

Anyway, surgery tentatively scheduled for December 8. Go Packers. Go Browns.