Indefinitive Diagnosis.


My Urologist called last night to discuss my pathology report.  Something about the wording of it wasn’t sitting right with him and he wanted to “clarify” exactly what was meant in the report.

As I said, when he went in to probe my kidney, he was not expecting to find a tumor there.  All the scans and testing done previously had not shown that anything was there.  Not even a “shadow”.

So when he was faced with this mass in my kidney, he was incredibly surprised.  The sample he collected and sent off to the lab was apparently not substantial enough to make any kind of diagnosis.

So while carcinoma cells WERE detected in the sample, the pathologist felt that there was not enough of “sample”, to make a clear defined diagnosis.


So what does it mean?

Beats the hell out of me.

It now means I may or may not actually have cancer.  *sigh*

(I sigh because It’s not like i really wanted to have cancer. . . but wish that they would make up their minds.  Yes or no??)

Because of the sample, it’s a Definite Maybe.

He went on to say that even though there were 3 things listed on the report as being “detected” (abnormal cells and carcinoma being two of those three.  Don’t exactly remember what the 3rd was) It could be any of the above.  So the Pathologist, couldn’t say “exactly” which of the 3 it was, based off the sample.

My Urologist said that in his experience, that if its showed up on the report, then it IS there.

However, HE can’t make a definitive diagnosis based off the pathologists diagnosis.

Is any of this making sense?

We talked about how, even though NOW they can’t say it is, or isn’t, the fact is, I still have this tumor, and I still have this unexplained bleeding coming from my left kidney. In his opinion, he feels that is enough reason to still proceed with the removal of it.

But hold on.

The unexplained bleeding. . . is now  lessening.  So much so, that I am almost having “normal” looking urine.

(as opposed to the Cola colored to bright red color that I’ve been experiencing for the past 5 months.)

I’d like to buy the world one.

I just noticed this the other day.  (It makes me wonder if this cunning and conniving tumor knows that it’s about to get the boot and is trying to make it seem like it was all my imagination that it’s there.)

I don’t know if something was loosened when he did the probe, and now I am getting. . . uh, you know, ummm. . . free clean flow, so to speak?

If the case is, that this tumor IS benign, then maybe i don’t NEED to have my whole kidney taken out.

Maybe part of it was just blocking the way?

My urologist felt pretty confident in saying that he would not be surprised in the least if they took out the kidney and they did in fact find cancer in it.

However, I would hate to have the kidney removed, and then they find out that it wasn’t cancerous at all.

I’m out a kidney.  That’s not good.

Ugh.  It’s just a big mess.  I don’t know what to do.

I would go for a second opinion, however, to have to go  through ALL the same tests again, to possibly come out to the same conclusion (cancer/tumor) 3 months later. . . to learn what I already know NOW, and to waste time in getting it out of me. . . I’m not sure I can afford that.

With my job ending soon (that’s another story) I am not sure how much longer I am going to have my medical insurance, and really need to take full advantage of it while I can.

Anywho, I go again on the second back to see the Urologist to talk face to face and to make a decision.

Stupid Kidney.  Stupid tumor.

Cancer Talk

Its been strange telling everyone that I have “cancer”.

I say that loosely, because even though I DO have it, it seems that it will be easily treated, and therefore I am some sort of tourist in a land that is filled with fatigue, nausea, hair loss and constant battle for life.

When I think of cancer I think of Lifetime network movies, where someone is laid up in bed, and a visitor is greeted by the care taker and is told that the cancer fighter is having one of her “good days.”  Then smiles and hurrys away to clean up the snot and puke collected in whatever container they’ve collected said bodily fluids in.

Valerie Bertinelli down to 100 lbs with dark circles under her eyes and a head scarf.

I look nothing like that, and will probably not have to go through all the chemo/radiation/poking and prodding that usually goes along with those scenarios.

I’ll go in, they will make some incisions, pull my kidney out through my belly button, and I’ll be done.

So it’s like I don’t even really want to tell anyone that I’ve got the cancer.  The past day as I have let my closest loved ones know, it’s always been the same reaction.

Their face immediately turns forlorn and worrisome, and tears begin to well up in their eyes.

Then I have to say ” No No!  It’s ok!  It’s contained!  They just have to  take out my kidney!”and then feel like a big dick for worrying people more than they need to be about this.

I mean, I dunno, Yeah sure, losing a kidney is a big deal, but I am so fortunate that I don’t have to go down the path that many people with cancer face, and for some reason in my head, because I don’t have to, trivializes the battles all of those that do.

There are even talks of throwing a fundraiser for me to help defer medical costs, and while I do have insurance (with stupid premiums and deductibles.) I have a hard time being comfortable with the idea of people coming together to raise money for my hospital bills.

Its a nice gesture, and I’m all about a party. . . but again, it just feeds into my whole this is not as serious as pancreatic cancer, or brain cancer in a 5 yr old mentality.

Maybe I just don’t want to accept this cancer.  Regardless of the seriousness of it, or lack of.

I KNOW i will be fine.  I KNOW i will come out alright.

It’s just another annoying medical anomaly that I have to deal with.

The Big C

Well friends, it looks like I’ve got the Big “C”. . . In my kidney.

The doctor called yesterday and said that 3 carcinomas showed up on my pathology report.  He stated that the pathologists didn’t come right out and say yes to there being cancer. . . but he didn’t come right out and say no either.  My doctor then went on to say that in his experience, that if the 3 carcinomas are even listed as being detected, then good chances are. . .

It’s strange.  I mean, I’m gonna come out of this ok.  It’s contained in the kidney, so it’s not going anywhere, and he wanted to remove the entire kidney anyways, so its not as if I need to start wig shopping or looking for head scarves.  (though I do often fantasize about shaving my head and wearing wigs just to be done with my willful hair.  But that’s another blog.) But to hear the word “Cancer” and know it’s inside you hanging out having a good old time. . . I dunno.  I guess there are no words.

I’m very fortunate that this is in an area where it is easily treatable.  Some people who are told about their big “C” aren’t as lucky. 

I’m a strong gal, so I’ll get through it.

Sometimes though, I just get tired of being strong.  All I really want right now is someone to take care of me.  To kiss me on the forehead and tell me it will all be ok. . . and to make me grilled cheese sandwiches. 

A Tale of One Kidney Prt 1

My kidney is a mess.


The probe took longer than expected on Friday, because my Urologist was not expecting to find what he found.


A dumb tumor.


It has been a master of disguise, this tumor, strategically hiding out in the fold of my kidney, living quite happily, evading the detection from all the scans of modern technology to determine its existence.  It is a cunning little tumor. 


I should point out that this is something that is very uncommon for someone in my age bracket, (and gender) which would explain the baffled looks I would get in the waiting room from the old men waiting to have their prostates checked out.


(Just for the record, I do not have a prostate.  I don’t know why I feel the need to clarify this, but there it is.)



Due to the shock of this discovery, my Urologist ran over the allotted time for the procedure, so when he came out to explain to my mother his findings, it was rather rushed, as he had to get to his next surgery (which was an hour and a half behind.)


Apparently, when he first went in, he saw something which he just assumed was a pool of collected blood.  He tried to flush it away, and it didn’t move.  That was when he realized he was dealing with a mass of angry cells that should not be there.  He took a biopsy and sent it off to the lab to see what’s up with this tumor.


At this time, I am still waiting for the results, however, I’ve got an inside at the hospital who is on the look out for my results and will notify me as soon as they become available.


(I should point out, that again, due to my age, it’s very unlikely it’s cancer.  Then again, it was unlikely that I would have a tumor in my kidney.)


So anything goes.


He wants to remove my entire left kidney, along with the uterur, thus dashing any dreams I had of cage fighting, performing gymnastics or becoming a stunt rider.  (all of which was pointed by a friend that I couldn’t do in the 1st place, but I swear, it was on my list of things to do. Ok maybe not.)


I will also need to watch myself around baseball bats and piñatas

A cache of smarties and sweet tarts is not worth having my other kidney whacked by a four yr old with a stick.


I should probably also not stand around the back sides of horses or donkey’s or any other large animal that likes to kick.  Not that I normally do, but you never know.




I’m probably getting a head of myself at the moment.  I’m just trying to be proactive in protecting my right kidney.  I’ll probably end up like one of those overbearing protective mom’s who won’t let anyone hold their kidney, because only I know the right way to hold my kidney, and everyone else is wrong in their kidney rearing ways.  Of course replace kidney with baby, and it totally makes sense.

Just don’t touch my right kidney.  Anyone.


Anyways, I go back to see the Urologist on the 2nd of August to discuss everything in detail and will be making the appointment for the removal of the left kidney. 


I’m thinking a party might be in order. . . a sort of send off for my left kidney.


All and all, It will be ok.



You’ve Got to be Kid-ney-ing Me!

(“Hi! I’m your kidney!” However I doubt mine looks so cute and cuddly)

Tomorrow I go for a kidney probe.

I’m not sure if I have talked much about what has been going on that has lead up to said probe, so here is the break down.

Around the month of March? I noticed that i was peeing blood.  (sexy eh?)  and not just a little bit. . . like a lot, and every time i went to the bathroom.  I had thought at first it was my period and that was why things were so, um, dark.  (sorry to be graphic, but it is what it is.)

Anyways, it took me a while to realize that it was not indeed “lady” goings ons.

I mentioned it to my mom, who told me to call my primary care doctor right away.  It was probably a UTI or Kidney infection.  So I did, and he prescribed me a round of antibiotics.  That didn’t work.  So he then had me go in for blood work and a urinalysis.   Neither of those suggested anything out of the ordinary.  He ordered a IVP, which is where they inject you with a radioactive isotope and then take x rays to check the flow of the urinary system, to make sure nothing is blocked. That came back negative.  It was then that I was referred to a Urologist.


(not my junk.)

From there I did more blood work, urinalysis, another round of stronger antibiotics and nothing.  Nothing was pointing to a cause.

I then had an ultrasound which showed nothing.
Not even any kind of alien embryos which might have been implanted unbeknownst to me.


(wtf???  Not again!)

My urologist then performed a cystoscopy.  That’s where they stick a camera up your piss hole and take a look around your bladder.  NOT FUN AT ALL.

The brochure he gave me about the procedure said that your doctor may numb you a little before inserting the probe.  Not mine. He was all like full steam ahead!


(see the relaxed face on the patient?  LIE.  It was more like a total look of I think a Candiru fish just swam up my piss hole.  Sheer horror.)

My bladder looked fine, however it was here that we discovered that blood was coming from my left kidney.

So he decided to send me for an Angio-Cat scan.  He was thinking that I might have what is called an AVM, where a bundle of blood vessels get tangled up.  (think of Gorbachev’s birth mark.  It would look like that, but INSIDE my kidney…  with out the Iron Curtain.)

He felt this was the possibility of what was going on, because of my age, and with every other test coming back negative for any types of tumors or cysts, this HAD to be what was going on.

I had the Angio- CAT scan, where again, i was injected with contrast and was bombarded by more electromagnetic energy.

(let me just say, that that was some weird ass shit.  Talk about feeling like i just pissed myself when the dye was in injected and traveled through my blood stream.  The technician was right when he told me it would feel like i just wet myself. . . and here I thought he was just coming on to me.  :P)

Those results came back negative for any kind of AVM and to as to anything that would suggest why I could be bleeding from the kidney.

So now, we have to go inside the kidney to look around.  The procedure calls for them to knock me out, which i am not to thrilled about (not that I would want to be awake during it anyways) but given my past with all the hospitalizations I have gone through, Its just not getting any easier for me.  I mean, I should be a pro by now.  But the thought of having to go through all the hassle and rigamaroo and so on and so forth. . . It’s just not fun.  (when is it ever?)  I have a hard time with anesthesia.  I get incredibly sick and have such a hard time waking up.

So there is where I am.  This whole thing is starting to take a toll on me.  I am so incredibly tired like all the time.  I don’t even want to think about picking up my hoop. (and I really need to with that show coming up next month.) I mean, I get winded and out of breath when I bend over, and you can forget about walking up stairs.  I have to take moment and just breathe for a bit.

I hope they find out what the F is going on.  I don’t think it’s anything like cancer. . . I hope not.  I mean, I am too young for that to happen in that area.  But I can’t think of what else could be causing this.  I’ve looked online and though I have come across articles of gross hematuria occurring, it usually goes away after awhile.  Mine hasn’t gone anywhere.  Not even out to the store for a pack of cigarettes and a carton of milk.  (and doesn’t even suggest lightening up.) All I can come up with is a pocket of infection somewhere that is irritating something. . . and if that’s the case then I am gonna be pretty pissed that they just didn’t keep me on antibiotics longer instead of making me go through probe after probe.

I’d rather deal with Tall Grey’s probing me than this shit.  Er, well, maybe not.


8X10 series

I just finished up another show this past weekend.  It was a series of short plays for a Playwriting contest, where 8, 10 minute plays were selected to be performed and then voted on.

I was originally asked to come in and read for only one of these plays by a friend who was directing a particular piece (and had me in mind for the part)  Since this was going down at a Theater that I absolutely love working in, It was a no brainer for me.  Yeah I’d come in and read.

It was probably one of the most nerve wracking auditions for me EVER.  Instead of the usual one or two directors asking people to come up front for cold readings, there were 8 director (one for each show) sitting at a table in the front, and all the actors there to audition in the back of the room.  So not only did I feel I had to impress 1 director (my friend) but 7 others as well.  (and show to a room full of perfect strangers that I so was not that “girl” who gives shitty readings and should just stop trying to act.) Actors can be very judgmental. . . sizing each other up from the way we deliver a reading, to why the hell a lady is still wearing a scrunchie in her hair.

(scrunchie to me says trying to hard, and that you were always that drama club reject or “crew” in school.   Just an FYI.  Leave the scrunchie at home.)

I have never been in a room filled with so much talent.  I sat waiting for the readings for my friend’s show to come around, and prayed he would take pity on me and just give me the part based on the knowledge of my work from the past show we were in together.  When it came to my time to read, I must have done good, because not only was my friend pleased, but the woman heading the whole thing seemed pleased as well.

I was done.  I pulled it off.  I knew I had that part.  And that was fine by me.  I wasn’t there to really nab any more parts.  However, somehow, a script for another show ended up in my hands and I was asked to read for a second show.

I nailed it.  So much so, that he didn’t have anyone else read the part.

So go me!

The first show was about a man and woman on an airplane, discussing the work and passion that is necessary in order for relationships to survive.  You learn that the man is divorced, yet still wearing a wedding band out of fear of looking pathetic and sleazy when hitting on women.  The woman on the other hand, you’re not so sure of.  She is wearing a ring, but gives no indication as to whether she is married, engaged, etc.  After their conversation both of them slip their rings off and that’s the end of the show.  It sort of leaves the viewer to make their own assumption . . . is she cheating?  Is she too wearing her ring out of fear of looking pathetic and sleazy?

Because of the dialogue and the message behind the conversation between the two, I felt very connected with what was being said.  Probably because of my own personal relationship that I am going through at the moment, but as the male character said in show, once hard work comes into play (in a relationship) you might as well kiss the passion goodbye.  (Because most people don’t want to keep working at it.)

The second show I was in was about two pregnant women, waiting in the doctor’s office and exchanging two totally different views about motherhood and how they plan to raise their babies.  My character was very white trashy, while the other woman was more sophisticated/hippy like.

So it was fun to go from a semi serious show, to something goofy and silly.


Neither of the shows I was in won, but, I kept hearing remarks that people didn’t realize I had played two different roles until I came out for curtain call to take my bows.

So I am guessing I did pretty good.

The series only ran one weekend, so it didn’t eat up as much of time as a normal show would. So that was another reason I agreed to do it.

Side note: This theater has one of the most extensive and incredibly fun costumes on hand I have ever come across. During down time, I kept myself amused with trying on various wigs and hats.

What’s not to love about wigs and hats?


(My 60 yr old hip old lady do… that i will seriously sport when I am 60.)


(What’s up Jolie?  I think i look good with dark hair.  Other people don’t agree.)


(how fucking fantastic is this???)

I Went to the Store to Get More. . . FIRE!

I found this video of me spinning some FIRE!  from about 2-3 years ago.

I haven’t spun fire in over a year or so.  It makes me too nervous, however, I am sort of itching to do it again.  I really want to get over this “fear” I have and just be comfortable.  While it can be nerve wracking, there is also this feeling of exhilaration that comes with it. Plus the sound that fire makes when you spin, is probably one of the coolest things I have ever heard.

It’s so different when you actually light the wicks.  The balls just feel heavier and slower, it seems like you have less distance to work with due to the flame trails.( meaning in my case, less distance to try and not whap myself.)  Not to mention that the last time i spun fire I ended up lighting my cap on fire.  (ok, so it burned for like 3 seconds and then went out. . . but that could have been my hair had I not worn anything on my head.)

SIDENOTE: I have seen people burn their hair, and it’s a pretty scary thing to watch.  (and stinky) Images of Micheal Jackson usually run through my head when shit like that happens, and I am always afraid that people will melt their faces off.  Usually though (and luckily) nothing serious ever happens.  Either they just have to get a haircut or they walk around with crispy uneven hair.  I have even seen people whap themselves in the face. . . singeing off eyebrows and eyelashes.

But again, it’s a rare-ity, and most the people i know who dabble in fire are pretty skilled in their craft.

Maybe one day I will join their ranks. . . but for now, I’ll stick to LED’s.

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