I’ve had two MRI’s since my last update. The one in September caused some concern. The Neurologists office called me the same day I had the MRI saying the doctor needed to see me as soon as possible. I told the nice lady that sounded kind of ominous. She replied that she’s “sure its just regular doctor stuff, but could you possibly get in there today?”
When I saw the Neurosurgeon the next day, he came into the exam room and said, “I had to see you with my own eyes!” Did you walk in here unassisted? Do you have pain shooting down your legs? Tingling or numbness? How’s your bladder control?
He explained that the MRI showed a small piece of what was left of my crushed vertebra poking quite sharply into my spine (the T8 vertebra had become a tumor from this cancer, and then it collapsed). He did some push-pull tests on my legs and said if any of those symptoms develop, or if I lose bladder control, to call him immediately. And then he said, “No, go straight to the emergency room and have them call me.” I knew there were a lot of people praying for me, so I asked him if my walking and having none of those symptoms might be a miracle. He said, “I won’t say miracle, but you are VERY, VERY lucky.
There was some talk about spinal support (surgery), but the most recent MRI showed no notable change. The doctor determined that the vertebra had crushed as far as it would go, and since I had no symptoms from the poking bone fragment, he said the potential benefit from surgery would not outweigh the risks involved. I can feel that poking in my back, but it is not pain. It’s more like a distraction. It’s almost always there, but entire moments do pass when I’m not aware of it. I got the distinct impression that the doctor thought it was somewhat of a medical oddity. I thank you for praying for me, and I thank God for every walking, pain-free day I get. I’ll thank him for all the other days too, but I’m pretty sure I like these better.
I recently had my 3-month Multiple Myeloma cancer test and I found the test results message from my Oncologist on our answering machine today after work, “Stable, the same as before.” That’s a message I can’t imagine getting tired of hearing.