AWKWARD TURTLES & ACOUSTIC NEUROMAS

Rough day today. It doesn't entirely have to do with my tumor so I guess it doesn't really have a place on this blog. Actually, it doesn't have anything to do with it. But I've found that now whenever something bad happens I tell myself something along the lines of "Oh great, such and such just happened AND I have a brain tumor" or "As if having a brain tumor wasn't enough, now I have to deal with so and so." This is probably not a healthy way of living. I'll need to address this. But in the meantime, back to my rough day. Today I found out that not only did I not get the job that I applied for and was really thrilled about AND felt that I was super-qualified for, I also got my hours cut at my current job. That's right. Two low blows in the span of one afternoon. And let me be clear, I was super-qualified  for this position. This wasn't one of those shot-in-the-dark job applications where you know you really don't fit the requir

A thought... I took a long walk on the bike path today. Six miles. The snow had melted and the sun was finally shining and, well, I needed a bit of fresh air. The walk itself was uneventful. Just a stroll from point A to point B. But as I was walking along I began to realize just how significant it was that I could  just get up and go out and take a walk. After my surgery, just making it down the hallway without falling over will be a huge accomplishment. As cliche as this is, I've realized that this tumor is certainly making me more appreciative of the simple things.    Thankful 

    Shocked! I got the call from Cleveland Clinic today. My surgery has been scheduled for May 11, 2012. It's really happening. Much later than I had originally anticipated, but it is happening. I'm having brain surgery. I have a pre-surgery meeting with the neurosurgeon on April 4th and then I'll be meeting with Dr. Woodson afterwards. She told me to be sure and bring a list of questions with me this time. At our last meeting as she was explaining the surgery she kept asking me if I had any questions for her. I kept deferring to Dad. It appears this time I won't get off so easy. So just like the good patient that I am, I went online and found a list of pre-made questions to ask her about the translabrynthine surgery I'll be having. In the meantime, my mom has been alerting every living friend and relative about my tumor. I guess I can't blame her. I'd be doing the same if it was my daughter. It's at times like these that I feel she would have b

I'm finally starting to settle a bit about this whole tumor thing. Last night was the first night in quite some time that I was able to actually sleep pretty soundly. Not that I received great news yesterday. It turns out I do in fact have a 1.3cm tumor and have to have surgery to remove it. I think it's just the fact that now that I know exactly what's going on with me and have a treatment plan I can rest a bit easier. Now I know what to expect. I don't have to make random speculations anymore about what may or may not happen which is comforting. Of course surgery brings with it its own bag of goodies. But thanks to my age, the tumor's small(er) size and my good health, things should progress fairly smoothly. At least I pray so. I won't go into all the details here about what an acoustic neuroma is. I am by no means an expert on the subject and you'd be much better off simply Googling "acoustic neuroma" or "vestibular schwannoma." The

(Typed on my phone just before my 2nd appt at the Cleveland Clinic) So here I am once again sitting in the waiting room at the Cleveland Clinic. Nothing much has changed since last time. The weather is nearly identical and the sun is gently shining through the tinted plate glass windows. Dad's next to me this time, though, diligently working his way through a novel. And this time I know that I have a tumor slowly and steadily growing inside of my head. It has been for the last five years unbeknownst to me. Today we're going to find out what happens next. Thankfully, Dr. Woodson is a fantastic doctor and found the neuroma in the first place. She's also patient and informative and seems to have a good grasp of the concept of going the extra mile. I don't know what she's going to tell me today. I have a few ideas based on my own meticulous research. And I have some opinions as to how we should proceed. Of course, I'm hoping somehow she and Dad will make all of

(Typed on my phone after my first appt at the Cleveland Clinic) I'm on lunch with nothing to do so I thought I'd tap out a little something to organize my thoughts. This week has been so insanely crazy. Both in a good way and in a bad way. Good in that I got a job offer for a position I'm really excited about and in that I'll be teaching my first Zumba class on Saturday. Bad in that I have to wait until Monday to find out what is going on inside of my head. Of course me being me, I've been obsessing over the whole thing and dreaming up the most ridiculous scenarios. It's weird--part of me wants nothing to be wrong (although since I'm deaf in one ear I suppose something already is) and the other part of me wants this MRI to find something so I have some sort of answer as to why I lost my hearing in the first place. The waiting is the worst part. Especially since I feel that the doctor was a bit cryptic and mysterious about the entire thing. I mean is it a

(Fair Warning: This is a loong entry.) Before diving into this blog, I feel like a little introduction is in order. Every AN patient has their own unique story as to how they first discovered they had a tumor and I would like to share mine. Actually, my story and situation is one of the reasons I decided to start this blog. As I began researching information about acoustic neuromas and searching for other patients similar to myself, I found that there were very few young adults with neuromas. Or at least few that were talking. Most of the patient stories I found were of middle-aged and elderly patients with large neuromas that had been growing for years. I discovered that is most likely because neuromas tend to be diagnosed in individuals between the ages of 30 and 50. I kept looking desperately for another twenty-something in a situation similar to mine and came up empty-handed. So to prevent the same from happening to another young person who may find themselves in a position simila