Picking up my keys.

Can you fucking believe it?
Just when I thought I had escaped the Guys In The White Van, here they come with a left hook to the jaw. Out of the blue. When I least expected it. But, that’s why we moved to the Big Apple, because I was getting worse in Flower City and no one could tell me why. Now I found Dr. Fancy and he knows people. Man, does he know people! First was Dr. Hauser. He diagnosed my infected mesh and took it out like it was his job. Because it was, indeed, his job. That was step one. Step two was figuring out the bone shit. He didn’t send me to the rheumy, Dr. More. I found him by doing research. But, Dr. More, G-d bless his nerdy self, was able to figure it out when no one else could. It wasn’t RA like they all thought. It wasn’t even osteoarthritis, like I thought. Of course, there is some of that, but the best thing Dr. More did was know he was out of his element and tell me I needed a hematologist. And today was finally the day to meet said hematologist. Am I glad I did! He is absolutely GORGEOUS. I see what H-Shem did– he knows I hate the second part of Dr. Gorgeous’ title (he is a hematologist/oncologist), so he gave me a really cute one. If I have to see an oncologist, at least bring me a cute one.

So, here’s why I started writing after such a long hiatus. I went to Dr. More, the rheumy, to follow up on what they’d been doing in Flower City. He said, “well, since they couldn’t figure out what was going on, I’m going to start from the beginning.” He did some tests that had never been done before, some others that have been repeated time and time again. And BOOM, there was an immunoglobulin pattern he didn’t like. IgA deficiency like I said, but also an IgG deficiency. Those alone are fine, but he went a step further and tested my IgM. It was more than double the outer limits of high normal. “See what you have here,” he told me one miserable wet Thursday, “this is an ‘M spike.'” Here’s your problem right here. This looks like you have a macroglobulinemia. You need to see a hematologist, and you need to see one right away.”

Well, it’s not my first time at the rodeo. I knew what that meant. I called my Dr. Fancy and asked for his recommendation. I got it, gave them a call, and here we are with me listening to Dr. Gorgeous tell me it is pointing to macroglobulinemia, Waldenstrom’s, or a lymphoma. I remembered one of those yahoos way back when told me I had a precursor to cutaneous t-cell lymphoma. Could it have ripened? How about that bone bull shit they were monitoring me for, could THAT be spiking my M proteins?

Well, what ever it is, it isn’t good. Dr. Gorgeous thinks it is an unusual presentation of Waldenstrom’s a type of macroglobulinemia. I don’t know about treatment, prognosis, or any of that bullshit yet. All I know is the keys to my condo in Cancerland just got a whole lot heavier. Fuck cancer.

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This entry was posted in Cancer Shmancer POO POO POO, Uncategorized and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Picking up my keys.

  1. Glad as I am to see you blogging again, I’m beyond sorry for the reason. ūüė¶

  2. This was not at all what I was hoping to read. But I’m glad you got a cute oncologist out of it. I have one myself and it makes those dreaded appointments a bit more bearable. Fingers crossed for good news coming your way soon.

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