Several years ago, a woman I knew went to bed and never woke up. She left behind two young sons and a paraplegic husband. She died from a ruptured aneurysm. She was 34 years old.
Even since, then, I occasionally lay in bed before sleeping overwhelmed with the fear that I have a time bomb ticking in my head. We don�t know when our days on this earth will end, but we go to bed at night feeling hopeful, having faith, that there is a little more sand left in our hour glass. But the panic occasionally sets in, what if tonight is it, what if this is all I get.
The good news is that I know now that I don�t have any time bombs ticking in my head. They may be ticking elsewhere in my body but they are not ticking in my head. My MRI results came back and everything appears to be normal. I even had my films read by my brother-in-law�s brother who is a radiologist. But what he did say is that I didn�t have the right kind of MRI for determining problems with my pituitary gland or optic nerves. But that from what he can see, there are no big growths or tumors anywhere in my head and there are no aneurysms either.
It�s sort of a case of good news/bad news. I am genuinely relieved that there is nothing growing or going wrong inside my brain. When I lie in bed at night panicking, I now have concrete professional information to talk myself back to reality. But I�m no closer to knowing what is causing my optic nerves to degenerate, atrophy or whatever the word of choice is when I see the doctor. He�s used all of them. Simple fact � a large percentage of my optic nerve cells are gone forever. And we don�t know why.
Brief medical timeline. Early this year I saw my PCP because I�d been having headaches. She sent me to a neurologist. The neurologist ordered a general MRI to rule out tumors or aneurysms or any kind of strange brain phenomena. A week after scheduling the MRI, but prior to actually having it, I saw the ophthalmologist who discovered the optic nerve problem and said that an MRI was the next step. Because I already had one scheduled, we just went with it� and now it turns out, it may have been the wrong kind. But it may have given him enough information. I don�t know that part as yet but I�ll see him on Tuesday (Happy Valentine�s Day Janet, you�ve won a part-expense paid trip to the ophthalmologist). So� the neurologist has ruled my headaches as atypical migraines, given me a prescription, told me and to see her in 4 to 6 months and to come back sooner if they get worse. The ophthalmologist will have his say soon enough.
You know what I hate, that I am going to be seeing a lot of the ophthalmologist (like maybe every week or two at first, then monthly, bi-monthly, etc) and it�s the doctor with the hardest freakin� name to spell and type. So, for short, I�ll just call him the I-DR. It�s easier to type.
In other news� though it�s long past Friday, I wanted to write about it.
I have a love/hate relationship with Friday. On the one hand, I love the open weekend ahead of me, this sense of freedom, no where to be, no where to go, the option of spending my day in my pjs, having the choice when I want to get out of bed and what I want to do. But on the other hand, I get restless and afraid, scared of the emptiness, the void in my life that I won�t know how to fill. There�s a real hermit who lives inside of me, I could easily shut the door and hide in my room for days. It�s not the best thing, it�s just what I know. Sometimes, it�s just hard for me to get moving.
And these days, being around people is kind of hard. Last Sunday I was at a Super Bowl party at my sister�s (My sister has a home theater, complete with 6 foot screen � there were 70 people there). I knew most of the people there, but most of them are people I know as acquaintances. So when they say, how are you, it�s hard to answer. I know they don�t want the real story, or I perceive that they don�t want the real story, but I feel like I betray myself every time I say �great� or �good� or �okay�. So I settle for saying �fabulous� but with a sarcastic tone. In other words, I come off as about as welcome to conversation as a cactus is to a hug. So it�s easier to just stay in my room than engage in polite conversation.
And now, just some randomness, because I have no idea how to end this entry: turquoise, corn nuts, motor oil, toenail clippings, isle of smoot, banana peels, horn of Africa, turnips, haiku. Happy Sunday everyone.
