Nov. 18, 2013.
The phone rings.
It’s the pathologists.
Mom starts crying hysterically.
Dad starts throwing fists in the air.
… I just close my eyes and thank God.
This is certainly the best news – and the only good news – we’ve heard all week.
We begin popping champagne and celebrating until another phone call changes the day’s events.
It’s my hematologist.
“We don’t trust biopsies. It’s hard to rely on one pathology reading, so we’re sending it to another health center for more results.”
… Way to burst everyone’s bubbles.
I guess it’s okay though. At least we have one bit of hope to hang onto.
Nov. 26, 2013
The second pathology reading was sent to a large, university hospital where many pathologists examined my tumor’s extracts.
The report does not label the tumor. It can be benign, and it can be malignant.
Honestly, what does that even mean?!
The doctors are confused.
It’s size too large to be benign and the PET scan shows high levels of activity leading the doctors to think that the tumor maybe be malignant.
On the other hand, they believe it may be benign because it hasn’t spread (yet, thank god) and the center of the mass is loaded with calcium which is not found in malignant tumors (the only malignant tumors with calcium are found in the brain).
No one knows what to call my tumor.
No one knows how to label it.
WHAT ARE YOU, HELGA?!
I’m so sick of this emotional roller coaster.
But on the brighter side of things…
The doctors believe the tumor may be my twin.
You heard me… my twin. It could come out with teeth, hair, or feet.
My life is like Aunty Voula’s.