Tumor Tumult (2)
We got a bit more of an idea of what we’re dealing with today. Near the end of yesterday, I got a call from the office nurse for Dr. Martinez, the neurosurgeon, who had been approached by my family doctor. She said that Dr. Martinez wanted me to see a “specialist.” He recommended a neurosurgeon in Little Rock who specializes in this kind surgery.
Today I received a call from Dr. Moller, our family doctor. He said that it was his understanding that Dr. Martinez didn’t want to touch it because of its location. He called Little Rock, and they offered an appointment in August, which he thought was not acceptable. He plans to send my records, and hopefully talk to them about an earlier appointment on Monday. In the meantime he mentioned checking with the Mayo Clinic at Rochester as well as the one in Scottsdale, Arizona.
So that leaves us without knowing much other than the fact that I’m dealing with a really precarious situation. I don’t feel bad. I’m not depressed. Maybe I’m in denial about it but I don’t think so. I have an amazing sense of peace even though I fully realize this could end up with an outcome that we don’t want.
The Tumor Tumult (1)
Today I went to our local imaging center for an MRI on my brain. They were not looking for a tumor, but they found one. I had just completed my tests, and started making plans for breakfast when a lab tech told me not to leave. A few minutes later she came back and told me that my family doctor wanted to see me in his office immediately. That’s never good news.
When I arrived, he told me they did not find an evidence of arterial venous malformation (which is what they were looking for). So far so good. The next step was not quite so good. I was told about and actually shown a tumor at the base of my brain. It appears to be benign, but it threatens my spinal cord. If it is not removed I run the risk of becoming quadriplegic.
That changed my outlook on the entire day. I don’t feel any ill effects, but I’m dealing with a serious problem, one that seriously curtails my activities until we can get the surgery taken care of. The doctor has told me that I cannot mow the lawn, jump on a trampoline or play basketball. Miz Ann has become my chauffeur.
My doctor said, “This is a gift from God. Had we not tested you for this other problem, we wouldn’t have found it.” Right now I feel an amazing peace. There’s nothing I can do about the problem on my own, so I’ll just put it in the hand of God and trust him.
As the days pass, I plan to write down my thoughts about this “tumor tumult.”
HEALTH CRISIS
On May 29, our youngest son Gary began noticing certain serious neurological symptoms, mostly severe headaches.. He went through a series of tests. They ruled out stroke and cancer, but they still weren’t able to come up with an explanation of his problem. This went on for several days with no improvement.
While we were on our way back from Texas following my aunt’s funeral, I received a call on the cell phone. In the course of the conversation, I asked him if he had mentioned anything about HHT to his doctor. HHT is the hereditary condition that I have, which primarily displays itself in frequent nosebleeds. While he had included it in his history, he hadn’t thought much about it because he rarely has nosebleeds. I pointed out that it is possible to have these lesions anywhere in the body, including the lung and the brain. I gave him a website
www.hht.org where he could check it out further.
An hour later he called back and said, “Dad, my symptoms are exactly those of internal AVMs.” HHT is so rare that many doctors don’t know what it is, and others dismiss it thinking they are dealing with people who are hypochondriacs. No one knows how many people have HHT, but don’t know it because their doctor diagnosed it as something else. However, a large number of my family members suffer from the condition. You go to family reunions and talk about nosebleeds.
It took a little while to set it up, but Gary finally had testing. To make a long story short he tested positive for PAVMs (Pulmonary Arteriovenous Malformations). I’ll explain what this is later. Because the whole syndrome is such a rare thing, there are only a few centers in the country that treat it. It’s not curable, but it is treatable. At the present time Gary and Kelly are contemplating the possibility of further testing and treatment at the University of Utah Medical Center in Salt Lake City, Utah, which is one of the oldest and most competent centers. Hopefully they will complete scheduling this week. We need your prayers because he is in a high-risk situation. PAVMs can attack without warning and are potentially fatal.
TECHNICAL NOTE. Just skip this if you’ve learned enough already. HHT stands for Hereditary Hemorrhagic Telangictasia. It is a genetic disorder associated with several small AVM lesions of the skin, nose and GI tract. Some patients (Gary apparently) have larger AVMs of the brain, lung and liver. They are at risk for stroke or stroke like symptoms.
Much has been learned about this condition in the last ten to fifteen years. I’ve known that I had HHT since I was about forty. It is now known that any family member needs to be tested for AVMs when HHT is present in the family. Although a family member might not have any indication of HHT, such as I do with nosebleeds, it is possible for larger AVMs to be present in the lungs or the brain (the two areas of primary concern). I discussed this with my family physician when I went to him on Thursday. I am now scheduled to undergo testing for PAVMs and CAVMs (cerebrovascular malfunctions). I learned that we have a physician in our area that is both familiar with HHT and AVMs. He can read the tests and administer treatment if necessary.
On the lighter side. I don’t think I’ll be able to blame my forgetfulness on HHT. On the other hand, if it should prove to be positive, I’ve got a wonderful excuse to give Miz Ann.
The Terrors of Death
Psalm 55:4
My heart is in anguish within me; the terrors of death assail me.
David’s negative feelings run much deeper than mere disappointment. He feels anguish. The dictionary defines anguish as “extreme pain or distress, especially of the mind.” I think his view of death as holding terror is a proper one. Jesus took the sting out of death, but death itself is not a friend. During my college days I sang with a choral group. One of our songs included these lyrics, “Come soothing death; come blessed repose.” That was pretty dark stuff for a bunch of college students. As a “senior citizen” I still find myself resisting the message. The Bible characterizes death as an enemy and in this passage it is a terror. It’s only victorious because Jesus has given us the victory through Christ.
