Wednesday was a tough, blunt, long day at Mayo Clinic. We left some meetings feeling hopeful and other meetings feeling smacked with realism, but all in all I think my family and me are relieved that Mayo experts have enough faith to move things forward and give me a shot.
The osteosarcoma in my sinuses is the most pressing. Likely one measly, severely injured cell that we didn’t manage to fully scorch with radiation 10 years ago has managed to stage a garish cameo. The osteo has flexed its way next to some body parts that are pretty important to me – the dural venous sinuses (that’s a Jimmy word add), my optic nerves and my carotid arteries. I like those body parts and would like to keep them intact.
My doctors’ first priority is to deal with this recurring osteo. The best shot at doing so is to do ENT/neuro surgery, which is scheduled for Tuesday, June 10 at Mayo Clinic. While they’re at it, they’re going to remove the lymph node in my neck for good measure. The surgeon isn’t entirely optimistic he can get the entire tumor out while getting safe margins (whoopsies, my brain is in the way), so my radiologist is exploring if we can follow with sweeps of radiation to laser-gun the rest.
And about that liver of mine….well that’s just confusing everyone. The tumors are not osteosarcoma, but indeed are a “high grade carcinoma.” Pathology just can’t figure out exactly what it is. The reason they’re all stumped is because tumors almost never grow on the liver without having a primary site elsewhere (i.e. usually liver tumors are metastases). To prove it, I’ve had a glut of other screenings to figure out where these tumors may be coming from, but all have been negative. Hear the collective bewildered sigh of my Mayo Clinic top docs and their colleagues around the country. Given they appear to be crazy primary liver tumors and the osteosarcoma has to take the treatment front seat anyway, the plan is to have a second surgery to remove them after we about face my face.
So far we aren’t talking chemo, for all you redhead fans. I don’t have the kidneys or the receptivity to the protocol drugs to make it worth it.
In the meantime I’m enjoying the lull before the storm, taking in friends and family and being grateful that my medical care team and I have enough faith in each other to allow me to look forward to so much. Thank you for your ongoing love and support.
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