Say what?!?!?!

Yesterday, I had a sinking feeling.  It hit me.  I was going to die.  And soon.  For that moment, at least, it didn't feel very funny.  I thought about my family, my friends, my patients, my cat, and my dog.  I thought about all things I wanted to do while there was still time.

But the moment passed after a few hours, and I moved on to more mundane issues, like what would be the most memorable last words?  Unless you're some sort of improv genius, it's not the sort of thing you can come up with on the spur of the moment.*  And what music should be played at my funeral?  The recessional would have to be Eric Idle's "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life."  Probably no Weird Al.

That was yesterday.  Then came today.  It started out normally (for me).  I did the same disgusting nasal cleaning routine I have done since 2005, took Willow to the park up the hill so she could run like a maniac, and then, I made my usual giant smoothie and went to work.

I was doing paperwork in my office when my cell phone rang.  It was Dr. Nariz, the surgeon at F'in' Famous Center in the Big Fruit.  I was surprised, because we had all expected that the pathologists would be having a field day arguing over my weird tumor.  And he said. . .

Here, to add to the suspense, I have placed a totally irrelevant picture of a Galapagos Tortoise so you will have to scroll down before you see the diagnosis.

Keep Going. . . 

More. . .

it is benign.**  WHAT?  Benign, BENIGN, B-9, BEEEENIYEEEENNN!!!  Huh??  How the smell could that possibly be???

That was the ugliest MRI I have ever seen on anyone!  None of my docs had outright said that it was going to be malignant, but you can tell by their faces and voices.  They get kind of downcast, and their voices go down a register or two.  "We aren't sure what this is.  Maybe it's not malignant.  By the way, there are some really exciting clinical trials for incurable cancers.  Here.  Sign this consent form.  Yes, the side effects are a bit embarrassing.  By the way, this would not be a good time for you to buy season tickets for the Red Sox. . ."

Wow!  Wow!  WOW! 

The surgeon was as surprised as I was.  So were my other docs!  When I told them the good news, one of them cried.  We all thought this was going to be the big one.

I've had half a dozen scares over the course of my life.  The worst was in 2016, when the surgeons at Wicked Famous told me I had 2 years to live (Do the math!), but F'in' Famous did another biopsy, and it was nothing but radiation schmutz that you would expect to find in my Chernobyl of a face.  But this one was a deadly-looking MRI, and the docs at F'in' Famous Cancer Center looked like they might wet their pants.  But no.  Not for now.

Is that the end of this chapter?  No.  Although the tissue that Dr. Nariz got was benign, that is still a big, ugly thing behind my face.  He wants to do another biopsy, this time under anesthesia on June 19th.  I still get to visit an oncologist (never a joy ride) on the 12th. After all, there still may be cancer cells buried deep within it.  

And, even if it's all benign, I don't particularly love having a giant mass behind my face, getting into important blood vessels and pressing on my brain.  At best, it's a giant colon polyp in my face (without the farts), and those are risky in the long run.  Or is it a weird kind of infection? 

So, as they say, it ain't over until the fat lady sings (or passes out at the cast party), but I really like how things are going.  More in 2 weeks!

* The best ever: "Either the wallpaper goes, or I do."  --Oscar Wilde

** 'Benign' never means normal, mind you.  It's what's between normal and cancer.  It's not malignant (generally equivalent to cancer), because, though the cells are weird, it does not invade surrounding tissue or spread to other parts of the body.