Monday, June 11, 2007

Pituitary-Part II



I came home at the very end of Febuary. I wasn't scheduled to come home them, but I had received a phone call late one fridged Canadian night from Pres. S, telling me he had received a call from Stanford Medical Center in California.

"Your mom is dieing. You need to decide if you're going to go home or stay in the mission field."

(That's a-whole-nother story to tell some other time.) After talking to my mom, and then the Pres., and then God....I decided to go. I was flying out of Montreal via "emergency transfer" within 10 hours (the next morning). I laid in the bed with my mom as she passed. It was 7 years ago this year.

Shortly after her passing, I moved to Utah to start a new life. I worked at a Cosmetology school teaching about Hair and Esthetics (skin). I also worked at a salon. I also taught figure skating at the Ice Rink in Provo. I tried to stay busy working my three jobs and trying to forget about all the new stuff that scared me.

One day, out of the blue, for no reason at all, I told one of my students (who I barely knew) about the noises in my head. I started the conversation off with, "So, do you want to hear about something freaky?" I almost fell off my chair when she said, "I've heard that too....here's the number for my doctor." That was great, since I didn't HAVE a doctor yet.

I called the number and went in for my appointment. I never actually met Dr. M, I met with his Nurse Practitioner. I brought all my results from Montreal and after reviewing them, she scheduled the follow-up MRI and bloodwork. I was relieved.

Once again, a week later, I received a phone call. It was Dr. M's office. I received the call while I was at the school.

"Hi Nancy, this is Dr. M's office. I'm just calling to let you know your MRI looks fine."

"Fine? Uh, do you have the right results?"

"Of course I DO!" (It sounded like I hit a nerve)

"Well, then, how's the 'MACROADENOMA?" I said with an Irish-blooded 'sassy-pants' attitude.

"OH. Uh, Hold on......" (I waited on hold for what seemed like half the day) ...."Yes, uh, Nancy," her voice was fast and nervous "you have a tumor. Dr. M is scheduling you with a Neurosurgeon so he can schedule you for brain surgery. Just wait for a call from the Neurosurgeon's office."

"WHAT?" but that was the end of our encounter. Somehow the assumption, "Oh, she must be new" works very well at a restaurant. However, it does NOT help when you have just been told you have a BRAIN TUMOR!

I wish I were embellishing this for story-telling purposes, but I am being completely serious....this IS how the conversation went....which is why I hung up the phone and burst into tears. My co-workers circled around me like a bunch of Mother Hens and tried to pep me up, without really knowing what to say.

Within 30 minutes, I got the call. It was Dave, another Nurse Practitioner. Dave is my Hero. I loved him from the first moment I heard his voice. "Nancy, This is Dave. How are you doing with this? Do you have any questions I could help you with?"

(Exact words:)
"Yes, uh, Dave...Am I going to die?"

Dave was strong and reassuring and by the end of our conversation I knew that even if it WAS cancerous (we wouldn't know until they removed it and biospsied it) I was going to FIGHT!"

Within a few days I was sitting across the desk from Dr. Reichman, who's signiture should be followed with the word "Genius".

"So," I inquired, "What would happen if I DIDN'T have brain surgery?"

"Well, the tumor is affecting your prolactin, but more importantly, your levels of Human Growth Hormone (HGH). Plus, it is obviously growing. If we do NOT do something about this now, you will develop Acromegaly. (See picture above.) All your soft tissues will expand, you will develop severe Oseteoporosis and premature Diabetes. Then, as the tumor grows, you will loose your vision as it presses against your optic nerve...and then you will die of Congestive Heart Failure. Sometimes, the tumor will Hemmorrage first and THAT will kill you."

I pictured all this stuff happening to me and what an absolute beauty I would become. Within two seconds I followed his response up with, "SO! When is surgery?"

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