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I think the universe must be feeling pretty bad about shitting on me for the last ohh, what?  8 months?  For now, it seems everything is turning itself around.

*knocks on wood*

I saw my second opinion guy yesterday and did one more CT urogram, which showed nothing in my kidney.  My cytology report came back, and that also showed nothing.  No atypical cells, no cancerous cells.  Nothing.

So after all the rigamaroo, his final diagnosis was, They don’t know what the hell was going on, or why, but everything looks good NOW, and that’s that.

If symptoms come back, then to call him immediately.

Other than that, at this junture, the whole saga with my kidney is done and over with.  I’ll go back in 3 months for a follow up.

So good news for that.

It is so odd though, everything that surrounded it. Bleeding for almost 5-6 months straight, the other Dr seeing some shit up in there. . . talk of having to have to remove it.  I seriously feel that there was probably a poltergeist in my kidney, pulling small blonde haired children in through the Tv and possessing evil clown dolls.

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(Side note, Carol Ann was NOT pulled in though the TV. . . but actually the closet of her bedroom.  The TV just acted as a transmitter between dimensions.  I just want to be clear about this.  In case anyone tries to call me out on this shit.  I know my Poltergeist.)

Another happening, is that my old job called me and asked me to come back.  You know, the ones who just let me go about what?  a week or two ago?  (I am so HORRIBLE with time.)

Seems the new people who came in and bought the business are phasing out the fabric end of the old company and need someone who knows their shit on the drapery hardware end.  (that would be me.)

Funny.  I was let go and told that they had wanted people in their customer service dept that were both knowlegable in both the fabric AND drapery hardware end of things. . . if they were planning on focusing on just the hardware, then why didn’t they just have me stay?

I should point out that the two girls they did let stay, are leaving.  So that is why they are probably scrambling to get me back in.

Dickwads.

I was told that I would get more $$, some vacation and sick days and that I would be eligible for immediate health insurance.

So I am “thinking” about it.  “Thinking” because I want to make sure this is truly the right thing to do.  I often act impulsivley.  I mean, right now it’s about 99% that I will go back.  But you know.  Whatever.

So there you have it.  Health on the up and up, and Job, on the uhh, umm. . i dunno. . . Job is there. 

So I feel pretty good about things as of now.  I got a plan.  I haven’t had a “plan” in, umm, i don’t think ever.  I’ll more than likely go back to work, in spring register for school and start working towards my degree in Child Life.  Cause it’s time.  You know?

And in the mean time, I will contiue to work on my root.  I’m riding my bike more.  I plan on starting up yoga.  I want to pick up my poi and hoop more.  More Plays.  I am also entertaining learning to tap dance. . . cause I’ve always wanted to. 

Let’s just have FAITH (not hope, for hope is sooooo fickle) that this momentum willl keep on going

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Obtaining Medical records, peeing in a cup and driving around Parma, does not make for one great adventure.

That’s the absolute truth.

So with my earlier than early ass Dr’ appt with second opinion guy, it was mentioned to me that if I had ANY films or reports to bring with me, the better the consultation could go.

Upon hearing this from his scheduling nurse, I got right to work.  I called up my initial urologist’s office and explained the situation to his Office manage.

(If you read this next part with hand puppets it might be more amusing.)

Me- “I am going for a second opinion tomorrow and they advised that I bring with me any films and reports of any tests that I have done so far.”

Her- “That shouldn’t be a problem.  All I need you to do is to sign a consent to release form and we can get those to you.  We’re here till five.”

Me- ” That will be a problem for me, seeing that I work till five and it would take me 45 mins to get to where you are.”

Her -” Oh my, yes that won’t work.  Well do you have a fax number?  I can fax you the consent form, and then if you want to give me the new Dr’s fax number I can fax the reports directly to him.”

Me- “Bitchin.  That would work out awesome!  But I would still need any films. I had two scans done at your office and 2 done at the Hospital.”

Her- “Well, I can get them ready for you, and then I believe Billing will be here till 6, so I can just leave them for you to pick up.”

Me- “super awesome! Thanks!”

The end! 

(and then I kicked her in the teeth and found $5.  Ok not really.  But if you end stories that way it’s much more exciting.  Also, I did not say Bitchin and super awesome.  I was very polite and sounded like a semi normal person..)

5 minutes later, the consent to release form comes over on my work fax, I fax it back and am feeling like everything is good to go.  20 minutes later I get a call from some chick telling me that I need to pick up my films of my IVP test and Angio CT scan over at the hospital, which I tell her yes I already know.

Now, I am thinking, that when i drive out to the DR’s office, they are going to have my films for the Ultrasound they did, and most recently, the CT urogram, which I think is probably a good bit of info to have.  After all it’s the latest of all the tests done.

I drive out there, go up to the second floor where the Dr’s office is, and NO ONE is around.  It’s a freaking ghost town. 

I manage to flag some lady down, who looked like she was just about to head out the doors to go home.  (The look she gave me suggested as such.  You know the one, when someone comes to you at the last minute and you just want to get the fuck out of work, but instead you gotta deal with their bullshit and then stab them in the face repeatedly for holding you up from leaving on time?  Of course the stabbing only takes place in your head.  But you know.)

So I explain my situation to her and she goes about the office looking for whatever it was that this office manager was suppose to put aside for me.

She doesn’t find it.

She then calls Office manager girl to ask her where the shit is.

The Office manager informs her i need to go to the hospital to pick up the IVP and Angio Cat scan films.

I say that is all great and dandy, and that I know, however, what about the CT urogram and ultrasound that i had done there in their office??

They know nothing about this.

How they could not, is beyond me.  One, it was done in their building.  By their people. Two, the results should have been in my file that the OM (Office Manager) should have seen when she was faxing it over to the other doctor.

Now I am pissed.  I’m pissed, because I really wanted that CT Urogram.  They apologize half heatedly, only because they don’t really care at that moment that they totally inconvenience me for having to come all the way out there for nothing.  In fact I am sure they were thinking in their heads that this is karma coming back at me for keeping them from leaving work on time, and having to stay behind an extra 15 minutes. They proceed to tell me that Radiology is gone for the day, so there is no way they can get THOSE films.  I should come back tomorrow.  I tell them I would if I didn’t have to go see this other guy at 7 in the fucking morning and didn’t NEED the films that were done at that office.

I walk out annoyed beyond all belief.  (and I’m sure to some rolling of the eyes from I just wanna get out of work lady for just turning around and walking out and not saying another word.)

Not only did someone drop the ball somewhere, but I wasted my gas and time to get out there. 

However, I had to get to the hospital to pick up the other films and to drop off another urine specimen for the cytology testing my old Uro wanted to have done.

It should have been pretty cut and dry.  Pee in the cup, go upstairs, grab my films and go home.

I mean, it’s not rocket science. . . peeing in a cup.  In and out.  15 mins top.

(then again, it could be rocket science if I were peeing on an actual rocket. . .and I don’t mean like on the side of it.  More like inside the actual bathroom IN the rocket, IN space floating around with no gravity.   That toilet IS science.  Otherwise there would be pee droplets floating around.  Think about that.)

I had been preparing for this since I left work.  I was ready to go. I had two vitamin waters anxiously awaiting to make their exit from my body.

Yet when I got to the hospital to tell them I was there to piss in a cup, I then had to go through insurance bullshit. 

“Are you in the system??”

(really?  cause I’ve been in here like every other week.)

“Are you on a payment plan???”

(no.)

“Oh, well you have a really big bill coming to you.”

(fuck that bill.  I’ll just throw it away.”)

“Becky which printer is this suppose to print to??”

(again, hand puppets would be more entertaining at this part as well.)

Ten minutes of bull crap of them trying to  figure out which printer my paperwork was going to print out of.

Who knew peeing a cup was so much dang work, and involved so much dang paper work. Normally, the only paper I worry about when I pee is the toilet paper, and how I hope there is some in the bathroom.

Finally Pee in a cup I did. Then I ran upstairs and grabbed my films from the tests done at the hospital.  The only easy part of the evening.  Thank you Parma Radiology for making it easy.  You get the gold star for the evening.  And that’s not saying much.

By the time all was said and done, I was aggravated. All I had wanted to do that night was to go on some sort of adventure.  Whether it was a walk somewhere or a quick bike ride. I have been feeling cooped up as of late, and need to bust out!  

I decided I wanted a cheeseburger and a drink.  So that’s what I did.  

It takes so little to make all right in the world with me.  I didn’t go for a walk, but I did sit outside for a bit, and that was ok with me.  I sat outside and ate a cheeseburger.  And it was tasty.  I went to sleep feeling that the day was somewhat salvaged by beef and cheese on a bun.

Moving on to this morning I went for my second opinion with 2nd opinion dr.  He works out of the Cleveland Clinic.  He seems alright.  Again, I was not prepared, as I forgot the picture of the “tumors” the other Dr found in my kidney, and had to pull the picture up from this blog.

(His resident was amused with my comments of the picture.  Him not so much. I think it’s because second Opinion Dr might have something against Billy Dee Williams.  Jealousy perhaps, because let’s face it, you don’t get much smoother than BDW!)

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(smoooooooth)

Basically what he said was that he wants HIS pathologist to have a look at the slides of my biopsy to make his own interpretation on whether or not they feel that this “mass” is a potential threat or what.

If his pathologist agrees with the amended report, then we just watch for a bit and go for check ups here and there.  If the pathologist feels its a grey area, or that these “atypical cells” warrant some concern, then I go for another kidney probe.

And that’s that.  For now.  Tomorrow I have to hound old Uro’s people to send my slides over to new guy’s and wait it out. 

The end.  (and then I punched some guy in the teeth and found five dollars.)

More Kidney Yadda Yadda.

I have an extremely early appointment tomorrow with a new kidney surgeon at the Cleveland Clinic.

My mom, not feeling all that settled with the latest diagnosis and dismissal of my kidney ailments, talked to one of her customers who just so happened to be a Urologist.

She asked him to look over my reports and to give his 2 cents.

He felt that my current Dr, though a nice man and good at what he does, may be in over his head in regards to my case.  He felt that you couldn’t go back and “amend” a report on something you didn’t feel too sure about in the 1st place and rule OUT the possibility of . . . well, whatever.  (cancer, tumor, alien baby)

He also said that if there is a tumor there, you can’t just leave it “alone” so to speak, with out knowing EXACTLY what it is.  So he advised my mom to make an appointment with a kidney surgeon at the clinic and get a second opinion.

So that is what I will be doing.  At 7:05 in the morning.  Cause I am a masochist and love dragging my ass out of bed at the asscrack of dawn.

(I had to go with the soonest available appt, and the earliest available time because of work.  I’m tired of my boss giving me dirty looks and hmmm-ing and haw-ing over my repeated absences, late arrivals and early departures.)

From what I was told, he will probably want to do an MRI and highly probably. . . another kidney probe.

I was coming to terms with this just being another anomaly, and nothing really coming about from it.

You know, kind of like stigmata, but from my kidney. Only internally bleeding, and only for a few months.

(I mean, wasn’t Jesus speared in his side?  It could have been his kidney that was stabbed. )

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(It’s not herpes.  It’s my stigmata acting up.)

However, my mother is not.  As are others.  They all think I should get a second opinion.  While I don’t digress, I am just tired of going through the whole process.
I kind of put my life on hold for all of this.  I dropped out of the Burlesque show, I haven’t hooped much, haven’t gotten on my bike or auditioned for any new shows coming up.  It was like i felt I couldn’t really “plan” anything because I didn’t know what the situation with my dumb kidney was.  I couldn’t say yes to a weekend of camping, because I might’ve had to of had that surgery.  I didn’t want to get a part in a show only to have to drop out a week before opening.

I hate putting my life on hold for crap.  Never put your life on hold for ANYTHING.  Even kidneys.   And especially Boys.  If there is anything that you ever take away from my ramblings let it be that.  (oh and NEVER go to bed with out washing make up off your face.  I don’t care what time you roll in.  Young girls, you will thank me for that one.)

Whatever.  I am not going to get caught up in it this time.   I actually feel fine.  I mean, I feel a bit more peppier.  I’m not bleeding.  I can’t say I don’t get pangs in my side, soooo, I’m not sure if that’s just remnants of having a probe up in there, or if it actually is the tumor. . if it is a tumor and not inflammation.

Stupid Kidney.

My kidney is an asshole.

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Not like literally in the sense that I can poop from it.  But you know what I mean.

 

Yesterday I had a follow up appointment with my Urologist to discuss the future of my kidney. 

 

 

The pathology report, while neither really confirming, nor confirming that there were indeed atypical cells, dysplasia and carcinomas in the lining, sort of gave the impression that if all 3 were listed on the report, that either one or all were present.

So again, it seemed like the best thing to do, was get it out.

Especially because of how it was bleeding for so many months.  So much so, to the point I became somewhat anemic from all the blood loss.

 

Yet, the wording of that stupid pathology report was not sitting well with anyone.  It was like it didn’t want to come out and say yes or no.  All the Dr. could say was that all or one of the above at best was a possible “maybe”. 

 With the discovery of the mass . . . even though the pathology report was a possible maybe, he felt sure that if he took the kidney out, and cut it open, that there would be cancer there.  (Or something.)

 

But the bleeding was the key.  He felt that was enough to go to go ahead and take the fucker out.  I mean, bleeding for 5 months . . . non stop with out any let up.

 

After the probe, he seemed confident in removing it.  He saw a mass inside, and since he couldn’t locate the exact cause of why it was bleeding, he felt it was best to just remove it.  Cause you know, if you’re bleeding from a vital organ, and can’t identify the cause, one would assume that it’s fucked up anyways and best to just get it out of your body before it does further damage.

 

 

 

I think that my kidney caught wind of what was going to transpire and decided to buckle up and quit acting like a dick. 

The bleeding, which I had been experiencing for the past 5 months or so, quickly tapered off.

What once looked like cola coming out, now was becoming lighter and lighter, to the point where I am actually peeing the most healthy looking piss I think I have ever pissed in my life.

 

 

            So when my Urologist asked yesterday if I was still bleeding and I told him no, he kind of threw himself down on the exam table in utter frustration.  ( I was NOT on the exam table.  I just want to clarify this.  I don’t want people thinking he threw himself down on top of me.  Cause that would have been really weird and uncomfortable.)

 

            To throw another monkey wrench into the whole mess. . . (Do monkey’s really have wrenches?  Where do they get them in the jungle?  What are they using them for?  That’s just silly.) The pathologist decided to amend the report to show that only atypical cells were present, which would show some sort of inflammation.

 

(Inflammation people.  An infection of some sorts. . . which I think I mentioned waaaaaay back in the beginning of all this.)

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 (does that look like an inflammation to you?)

He wasn’t as confident about removing my kidney after all this shit came to light, and now, we are once again, playing the wait and see game.  Sure he saw something in the kidney that shouldn’t have been there, but because of the amendment to the report and the cease in bleeding, he’s not sure what to think now.  He would hate to remove a perfectly healthy kidney and then be sued.  It could have been inflammation, it could have been something benign.  It could have been a stupid alien baby, or a big pocket of cooties.  Who the hell knows now?

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(who wants some alien baby kidney cake?)

 

 

I hate the not knowing.  I also hate that if this were an inflammation of some sorts, why did all that shit show up on previous reports?  Why didn’t it show up in my blood/urine test results?  I would have thought that my white blood cell count would have been a little high.  Then again, I am no doctor, so what do I know?

 

He had me go for another CT urogram where they once again, injected the dye and I felt like I was gonna piss myself.   I also have to do a Urine Cytology, collecting samples over the next various days and dropping them off at the lab so they can do a sort of Pap test on the cells if you will.

 

It’s all good news really.  Yay!  I don’t have cancer, and Yay! I don’t have to lose an organ (at this time) but it all goes back to this being an anomaly.  Which is frustrating. 

Not only that, but I feel bad that people worried about me for no good reason. 

 

So as of right now, the kidney stays.  We are getting a second opinion.  I’m actually physically feeling a bit better.  I don’t feel AS lethargic, and even though my side still is stiff and I still have some pangs of pain here and there, I’m getting back into the swing of things. 

 

And life goes on. 

And so do I.

Indefinitive Diagnosis.

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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.

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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.

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.

 

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