Where to begin with this...
So...I've had to digest a lot of news in a short space of time this past week, so my thoughts are a jumble. I'm probably going to struggle to express myself coherently here. But, bare with me. Okay?
There's a background to this story that I'll relate to you in a potted form. It's a story that began back in 1989 when I was 14 years old.
I was a reasonably active kid. Good at swimming, average at football. Decent at cricket - though nothing to write home about. I was always a little clumsy, uncoordinated. I had a terrible drop punt and I used to trip and fall over myself a bit. It was embarrassing sure, but I didn't get too worried about it. My Star Wars game was always better than my Australian Rules game. One morning in late May, during a junior football match, I suddenly collapsed and was rendered unable to walk. After a flurry of medical examinations and a series of scans, I was diagnosed with a tumour in my spinal cord - a schwannoma. It was growing out of the spinal cord itself, it's parastic tissue intimately emeshed with the cord. It was to turn my teenaged life upside down for the next two years.
I had two operations back then to remove the tumour and clean up some scarring that caused some issues afterwards. I had to re-learn how to walk. I had to manage a few functional issues involving my bladder and bowels and I somehow had to navigate the psychological comprehension of a traumatic experience that upended my adolescence.
I was told at the time that this tumour was a fluke - a once off. Owing to its slow growing nature, there was zero likelihood of this thing ever returning in my lifetime. Aside from a few functional issues, I should be able to lead a normal life.
Twenty Nine Years later...
I've documented my recent *exploits* here with my throat - how a dysfunctional branch of nerves in my neck caused havoc with my ability to swallow, speak and breath effectively. Having largely conquered that episode, I was referred to a Neurologist to investigate the underlying aetiology of this nerve dysfunction
I was concerned there was an inflammatory causative factor for the whole throat thing. Some additional symptoms I'd been experiencing - including visual deterioration in my left eye, a sudden inability to taste or smell, some incontinence and *other* dysfunction - led my neurologist to want to rule out that very inflammatory pathology. We discussed Multiple Sclerosis, even Parkinson's Disease.
I agreed to undergo a battery of tests in order to build a case against these. A series of blood tests, urine, a lumbar puncture, neurological exam, an MRI. I underwent these tests, determined to get to the bottom of this mystery, because I didn't want it weighing on me any longer. This had been two years out of my life, in which - you know - I would've rathered been focusing on something else.
I'm at a stage in my life where there's not a lot that shocks me anymore. As an Intensive Care Nurse, I've seen a fair bit - maladies, trauma, disease, the expected and the unexpected.
I received a phone call from my GP last week, requesting that I make and appointment to see her. I sat down with her after a long night duty shift on Wednesday morning.
The MRI scan found a tumour, located in my lower spinal cord - very close to where the original schwannoma had been found in 1989.
A tumour - that was never supposed to recurr.
I was shocked, stunned, numb.
Remember? This was never supposed to happen.
Things have moved fairly quickly. I have met with a Neurosurgeon, and we have discussed my options, which I might say, are pretty straightforward. I will have to undergo surgery to remove the tumour. Plans are afoot in that direction and I'll be undergoing a second series of scans later this week to *map* out the exact geography and extent of the lesion. It is growing out of the spinal cord itself, so the surgical team need to know - to the millimetre - how emeshed this mass is.
At the moment, I'm approaching all this with a clinician's mind as much as I am a patient's. It's a confusing state. I've expressed little outward emotion about the diagnosis so far. Rather, I've been digesting the reports and the MRI films. I've mulled over the technical aspects of the prospective surgery. I've weighed up the chances of this thing being a malignancy. By erecting a veneer of distance between the diagnosis, I can keep my emotions in check.
This is not to say that I am completely divorced from them. This recurrence has implications beyond the mere presence of the tumour - implications that I can't bring myself to process just yet. There is, deep down, a maelstrom of emotions.
There is fear. There is disbelief. There is anger.
My mind teeters on the edge of this chaos so I'm doing everything I can to focus on the process dispassionately.
This may seem strange, but I'm more worried about more fundamental things - like, how I'm going to get through the next little while - I mean, it's bloody Christmas. I have to pay the bills, support my family, give my kids a Christmas to treasure - this Christmas is certainly going to be interesting.
I want to get back on my feet as soon as I can. I can't stay idle. It'll drive me nuts. I can't allow this thing to upend my life again.
The stakes are too high.
Is this a diary? I think this is a diary. Let's call it a diary.
I can't breathe now. I need to stop writing. I'll talk a little more soon.