Bubbles on the brain

Okay, so it’s been a while since I’ve been able to add to this blog. Please, allow me to explain.

It goes back to a previous missive of mine, explaining something called trigeminal neuralgia, and how I came to learn I had been afflicted thus. There’s actually more to the story, and I will take some time now to elucidate. You see, in the process of obtaining the diagnosis I had many, many tests. Among them were a CAT scan (no cats found, sadly), and MRI, and lo, many blood tests. Many, many blood tests. A lot of things can cause TN, it seems, so we rule things out.

As it happens, the MRI caught it. But the blood tests caught something else. Something with the catchy name of Monoclonal Gammopathy of Undetermined Significance, or MGUS. Which meant trips to a hematologist. Otherwise known as an oncologist, otherwise known as the Doctor Whose Name Shall Not Be Said. Actually he’s a very nice man named Habib Doss, and if I were to contract cancer, he’d be the guy I’d want treating it. More tests, including a twenty four hour urine collection. Wow. Anyway, the upshot is that it appears I do not have cancer yet, but I will have to be monitored for it, probably for years, possibly the rest of my life. Anyway.

But, to the bubbles. The MRI found…

…wait for it…

aneurysms!

Not one, or even two, but three! Three wonderful aneurysms! (in the voice of the Count, of course.)

Aneurysms. Bubbles on the brain, basically. My neurosurgeon said, hmmm, better have a look at this. Aneurysms can mean instant death. Yikes.

Now, it’s true that I am well aware that life is at best fleeting, and we are but transient presences on this planet. Still and all, I’d like to prolong that presence as long as possible. Another test then? Why not? An arteriogram of the brainpan this time for a better look. Meanwhile, I am dealing with the TN as best I can, which is not very well at all. The first med given made me feel like the walking dead. The second kept me awake at night and resulted in more soiled britches than I’d ordinarily care to admit, but being as I am all about honesty here, you are getting the straight scoop, and the Fruit of the Turds are very literally thus. I had too many pairs of skivvies anyway, right Shell?

The news from the arteriogram was not bad. Two of the “bubbles” were not so bad as to require treatment. The third…well…let’s try another med before we allow them to crack my skull open, hmmm? I have far too many medical bills I cannot pay.

Anyway. It’s racing season. The drivers and car owners are getting their mounts ready for the new year and the track folks are getting the new rules in place. And me? Well, I will hopefully be helming a new podcast, which will be the next thing I write about on this space. The Fruit Of My Loom, my son Preston, will hopefully be engineering this effort, and we may have a somewhat larger cast than last time too. And perhaps a sponsor to provide some updated equipment even. So, very soon I will be too busy to be sick…

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