Wednesday, October 12, 2011

The Long Short of It

Just so I have a summary of the whole story some place...  Here is the summary of the Tomas the Tumah blog in a long but shorter form.  ;)



In the spring of 2010, soon after I found out I was pregnant with my third little girl, I noticed a lump on the right side of my neck.  I tried not to worry too much, figuring it was a lymph node.  At my first OB appointment when it was still there, I asked about it and was told to give it another month. Sure enough, a month later it was still there.  So my doctor who was a great mix of watchful and proactive ordered a neck ultrasound he told me to rule out lymphoma.  During the neck ultrasound I remember the ultrasound tech asking if I felt the pulse in my neck in any strange sort of way.  I thought it was a weird question but told him I didn't.  My doc called a couple of days later and told me I had a carotid body tumor/paraganglioma.  It still makes me laugh that as he was talking on the phone with me he was looking it up on Wiki and Google himself to find out what exactly I had.  

We decided to call the tumor 'Tomas the Tumah' because we are weird and twisted and because it is more fun to laugh then sit there scared.

I went through a few referrals with doctors who hadn't had much experience with paras and pheos and someone  with either Pheo Para Alliance or the Troopers reccommended I check out the NIH.  I haphazardly sent Dr. Pacak an email just asking for his opinion about how to proceed and was gobsmacked at the quick response I got and their willingness to take on the case.  We evaluated our options (since we live in WA state and the NIH is all the way over their in Maryland ;)) and decided to go there.

In the meantime, I had the rest of the pregnancy to contend with.  I was initially told that since CBTs are usually non secretory it was a non issue.  Some chats with the folks at NIH and one visit with a really rude anesthesiologist later resulted in me being referred to a high risk OB in Seattle, so we started the weekly two hour trek to see her.  The concern was that the stress of labor would cause a hypertensive crisis either from compression of the artery, or from Tomas the tumah 'waking up' as they sometimes do.  Luckily the doctor was amazing, truly amazing, and despite a snowstorm the day of my induction, a flat tire on the way to the hospital, and a long painful induction (36 hours)  she was born in the early morning on Thanksgiving 2010 while snow fell outside.  

Two and a half months later, we flew out to NIH for a whilrwind week of testing followed by surgery the next week to remove Tomas.  I ended up with a ruptured ear drum and an ear infection during the week of testing and a bladder infection the night before surgery.  Small potatoes in the long run, but at the time it was just so frustrating.  The surgery went well and we flew home.

On post-op day 16 I noticed a lump at my incision site.  I went to the doctor the next day and was put on anti-biotics.  The lump kept growing and getting more painful.  The doctors at our local hospital didn't want to touch me so they told me to head up to the ER in Seattle.  By this time, I looked like quasi-modo only with a lump on my neck.  It was really grotesque and upsetting and also painful.   I waited 9 hours in the ER without pain meds (because they were afraid to give me anything between the possibility of surgery and me breastfeeding) for the ENT surgeons to decide what to do with me.  Just as they decided to open and clean the wound there at the ER bedside, my incision burst open.  Then they finished the job and cleaned it out (which hurt.  As bad as natural childbirth.  I'm just sayin').  They put me on massive doses of antibiotics and I hung out in the hospital for a couple days to make sure the infection was gone.  On my return trip to the NIH I was told that a post op infection after a CBT had never happened to ANY patients the doctors there had ever seen.  We have started playing the lottery.  ;)

We found out at that time from NIH about a nodule on the other carotid artery.  We finally were able to navigate the insurance gauntlet of military medicine and got a referral to a great endocrinologist and found a local doctor which I saw for the first time last month.  They evaluated the nodule on the left carotid and told me that they believe it to be a lymph node.  I'm really happy with that news, BUT cautiously optimistic.  I am determined to be vigilant to make sure that's all it is and to ensure that nothing else 'pops' up.

So far I'm not a 'mutant' (no genetic mutation has been found) but we're waiting for results of more genetic testing to come back.  

Even though I've 'only' (perspective is a funny thing isn't it?) had this one tumor on my right carotid so far, it's been a pretty bumpy ride.  I'm always in awe of the people in these groups and how much they have endured.  For now I am trying to grasp the idea that I am a survivor (and I am PROUD to be a survivor!), and move forward with optimism and positivity.  I don't know if this will be the only chapter in my paraganglioma story or if there's more to come, but I'm grateful that I've been given the chance to see the amazing doctors that I have and I'm grateful for the support and amazing friends I've found in online support groups for this zebra of a disease.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Really, Really, Really, Really Good News! REALLY!!!

16 months ago I was told I had a tumor on my Carotid artery.

8 months later, I had surgery and I thought I would feel relieved because my tumor was gone.

Except I found out at the same time about this nodule on my other carotid artery.  A nodule that I was told was 'definitely something.'  And I tried not to freak out.  And I tried to be happy, but I had this shadow of fear and dread about having to do the whole thing all over again.

Four months later I got the news that I didn't have the SDHD or SDHB mutation.  And I was amazed and taken aback and confused because...  I had another nodule and it just didn't make sense.  And I tried to be happy.  But I had this other nodule, which I was sure was another tumor.  I asked people 'what else could this be?' and I never got a satisfactory answer.  All seemed to point to this being another tumor.

A week and a half ago I met doctors on this side of the country that I loved.  And I was happy about that, but revisiting that dread feeling because...  I had a nodule.  And what else could it be?  And I was going to have to do it all over again.....

Tonight.  Tonight one of those wonderful docs from UW called.  She said she'd reviewed the scans I had earlier this week.

She said she had some news about that nodule....

That nodule she said...  Doesn't appear to be a paraganglioma.  

That nodule she said is most likely NOT a tumor.

It appears to be a lymph node.  A NORMAL lymph node.

She waited for me to cheer and get excited or at least sound happy, but all I could say was, "Are you sure?  And...  Do I need to be worried about this lymph node?"

And then I got a little happy.

And then I hung up the phone.

And now I am looking at Andrew in glee and disbelief and yelling at random intervals, "I DON'T HAVE A TUMOR!!!!!"

And for the first time...  For the first time in 16 months.  That feeling of dread has lifted.  And while I am still maintaining an attitude of cautious optimism....  And while I want to have this corroborated by the NIH....  And while I will still need follow up likely for the rest of my life....

For the first time in 16 months, I go to sleep out from under the shadowy spectre of a Tumor named Tomas....

The journey isn't over, but the burden has lifted.  And I am so happy.



As a post script, I just have to mention how sad I am to learn of the death of Steve Jobs.  Steve's cancer, like paraganglioma, was a neuroendocrine tumor.  It was a NET arising in the pancreas.  These tumors and diseases are so slippery and I am sad that he gave his life in the fight.  My news tonight is good, but it just as easily could have gone the other way.  I add my condolences to his family and I pray that they would be comforted in this loss.