A Brain Is A Beautiful Thing

March 2, 2021

Today was MRI day. They’ve changed the MRI machine since the last time I experienced one. It’s not a single long tube and it’s wider. But, to tell the truth, I was a little too loopy from Valium to give a crap. That must be why people with anxiety are prescribed it. Once you take it, you just don’t give a crap. Also, walking straight is interesting. And talking g e t s  m u c h  s l o w e r.  Once I folded my washcloth over my eyes, they covered me with a warm blanket– wouldn’t you love to have one of those in your house!– slid me in, and I went into meditation mode.

The sounds included banging, jackhammering, air-raid sirens. I was pleased to have been given earplugs. After, the technician said even he didn’t know what the different sounds indicated. “How long did it take you to learn to do this?” I asked. He shook his head. “I’m still learning,” he said, “always learning.”

Then he let me look at the images. Whoa, brains are so interesting. The wildest thing is seeing the eyes in the sockets. Print that shot out and you’d have an awesome Halloween mask.

See what I mean? (Not my brain) Source: Wikipedia

I was basically in a daze the rest of the day, except a nap with the cat and a solid training session in the bike.

Despite the new law that says test results must be released to patients as soon as they are available, the PET scan results have not showed up. There’s a little clause in the chart that says if there are unexpected or unusual results, the doctor may take 3-5 days to review them and then reach out directly. My theory is that the surgeon will hold off on contacting me about PET and MRI until even the bronchoscopy is done.

The only other thing to report is yesterday’s phone call to Nurse Navigator Julie. (I want so much to call her Nurse Nancy….) The pulmonologist sent a note saying to schedule a follow-up appointment to review the EBUS results and talk about my options. I asked Julie if that meant he was now the boss of my case. “Well, ideally, you are the boss,” she said. I was trying to be patient and nice, really I was. But all this hedging and side-stepping is maddening.

Yes, I know, I said. But I meet with the surgeon Monday and the pulmonologist Thursday. How are these two people working together? Will they have spoken about my case? If one person says X and the other says Y, is that sort of like getting multiple opinions?

She talked about the different kinds of doctors and how they work together, blah blah blah. The bottom line is that she didn’t really know. I imagine if your job is to help people not freak out, you try to soft-pedal what you don’t know or what might be unpalatable. Such a waste of time when someone just wants an answer to a question.

I did learn something interesting. Immunologic treatments are not yet considered standard. They are reserved for patients with metastatic (Stage 4) cancer. Even if a patient were to have this cancer, there would be no guarantee a trial would be occurring. But genetic damage might account for why someone with no history of smoking might have lung cancer. Also, cases are often brought up for discussion at a cancer board of sorts, where treatment trajectories are discussed, etc. (I knew that.)

Even though I kept trying to tell her that our family has broad experience with all kinds of cancers, it wasn’t until I told her that my brother-in-law, a 13 year-survivor of metastatic melanoma, was part of numerous trials there, that she stopped her cheery Nurse Nancy voice.”Oh!” she said. When I told her my sister-in-law helped run the STEM cell program there, she said, “OH!”

In her after-visit notes, she indicated that I had “lots” of questions. Perhaps that is code for “pain in the ass.” Although we all have a right to have questions answered, medical people are only human. Soon enough, there will be some answers.

Brain Image by ElisaRiva from Pixabay 

Communication Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay