A Tale of Two MRIs, Part 4: 'Tis a Puzzlement

Recap

Seeing as it has been so long, you're probably better off just skimming through Parts 1, 2, and/or 3. But since that's sort of a shit-ton of reading, thanks to my long-windedness, here's your TL;DR version:

• I've had this bump/growth/whatever along my jaw for at least a decade. No pain or anything, just kind of... there.
• In August 2017, I thought it got bigger, so I brought it up with my dentist.
• Several scans/tests/specialists later, I didn't really get any answers, but the overall consensus was that it didn't look bad, so... Everything's probably good?

Moving on...

Lord, a lot has changed and happened since I last wrote about this. What happened immediately following Part 3 is not nearly so fresh in my mind, but let's see what I can recall.

My second of the two MRIs in this tale took place at a nearby hospital since my normal doctor's office wasn't equipped for what needed to be done. My mom was nice enough to come in from Madison to go with me so I wouldn't be alone again. Just knowing she was in the waiting area put me a little more at ease during the process, which made it easier to get through. 

What lump?

What DIDN'T make it so easy to get through was the guy running my MRI. He decided that since I was going to have to do both with and without contrast dye, he'd just go ahead and put the IV port in from the beginning. In Part 3, I mentioned how my veins like to hide and only the best of the best seem to be able to locate them... This dude was NOT the best of the best and ended up going through the back of my hand. So I had to lie there the WHOLE TIME with the damn thing sticking out of my hand, even though the dye didn't go in until about 2/3 of the way through. To say it was uncomfortable would be accurate; it actually started to hurt after a while and I had this tender, bruised lump where it had been for a day or two after the MRI. Ow.

The rest of the MRI wasn't terribly memorable. Once it was done, I got back into my street clothes and grabbed my mom to go. We managed to get lost in the labyrinth that is the basement of Aurora St. Luke's but eventually got some assistance from a staff member who could quite clearly tell we were from out of town and took pity on us. Thank you, kind stranger!

I can't tell you much more about that experience except to say that the results were apparently pretty blah. My doctor was not at all concerned about whatever the MRI was for in the first place, so... yay? A "clear" MRI comes with mixed emotions, in my experience. On the one hand, there's an incredible sense of relief that nothing out of sorts was discovered. On the other hand, WTF? I just spent a decent chunk of money on these tests (not to mention my PTO) just for someone to tell me that whatever they saw wasn't noteworthy after all. Cool.

After that experience, I put the lump/bump/fascinoma out of my mind for quite some time. Right up until about 2 months ago when I thought I felt it growing again. What. The. Actual. Fuck? Fine. This time I decided I'd go straight to the source. I called up the oral surgeon's office and asked if I needed a referral. I did, so I sent a message over to my doctor's office and had a referral by the end of the day.

I went back to see the surgeon and got a couple new CT scans for good measure. He poked around a bit, took a picture of it (that I'm glad I never got to see; not my most flattering angle), and sent all the info to another specialist. A week later, I went back in to see what we had learned. And... nada. We still had no idea what it was. So we scheduled me for surgery! Huzzah!

Boo, Facebook. BOO.

These days, I live alone (well, not ALONE alone - I still have the doggos), so I had to figure out transportation. Luckily, my parents are pretty awesome and they said they would come into town to chauffeur me to and from (since, you know, driving on Valium is frowned upon). They even came in the night before and treated me to dinner (free food!), so that was a win-win. That same night, my ex stopped by to pick up the dogs so I wouldn't have to try to care for them while recovering. The apartment was so very quiet without them, but once I took the Valium, I was pretty chill about everything. Apparently, the stuff makes me feel "fuzzy" which I found terribly amusing, especially the next morning when I took my second pill and Facebook told me that fuzzy wasn't a real feeling.

My surgery went well, though I remember next to none of the experience. I was under moderate sedation, but my family has kind of a thing for getting completely knocked out no matter how "moderate" the sedation. I know I got an IV (in my hand, sigh) and I was trying to breathe deeply just to calm my own nerves. The next thing I really remember is setting up a follow-up appointment (which I managed to get into my phone's calendar... correctly!) and heading out to the car. I texted a few people quickly on the ride to let them know I was out and doing well, and I even snapped a selfie or two for good measure.

Thumbs up!

When we got home, I hung my purse up and put my keys in the key bowl, a feat that was made possible either due to the recent practice of consistent adulting and self-sufficiency or my OCD, but nonetheless impressed my mom. I headed straight for my bed and crashed for a few hours.

My mom had originally wanted to take me back to Madison with them for the weekend, but once I had napped, I was pretty self-sufficient, just tired and sore. That's the nice thing about oral surgery - it hurts, but it doesn't really impede your movement. Eating... well, that's another story. Suffice it to say I lived off of ice cream and ice cream products for a good 24-48 hours (the horror!). Regardless, I was clearly capable of taking care of myself, so my parents headed back to Madison and left me to my own devices.

I could barely contain
my excitement

Surgery was early on Friday morning, so I spent the weekend (Friday afternoon through Sunday) having a Harry Potter marathon since I'd be missing a HP-themed Halloween party that Saturday (and I was under orders to "take it easy" for the weekend). I made it through all 8 movies and even had some company for one of them. :)

Otherwise, I was basically just a big, lazy blob on my couch. I went to pick up the dogs on Sunday night (and I will say that not having to take care of them also made it a lot easier to just chill for the weekend - I actually got to sleep in!) and was back to my regularly scheduled program on Monday. Not too shabby!

As for the results of said surgery? Doc's still calling it a fascinoma.

Here's the official diagnosis:

"Sections show multiple fragments of fibro-granulation tissue demonstrating a focal area of either bone or cementum embedded within one of the fragments and
a focus of refractile foreign material in another fragment."

Basically, there was a tiny piece of bone or something similar (like the acrylic they use in orthodontics), as well as some unidentifiable material, embedded in the tissue. Whenever I thought it was "growing" the tissue was likely irritated and becoming inflamed (as suggested by the abscess also present at the time of surgery). Doc's best guess is that something from my days of orthodontia got trapped in there and just kind of hung around for funsies, but we'll never really know for sure.

'Tis a puzzlement indeed. 

It's Alive!

Yep, I'm still alive and kickin'. Why has it been so long? Suffice it to say that I'm a bit busy these days.

This semester I'm taking a 4-credit research methods course for Psych, which is really interesting and I'm learning a lot, but it is time-consuming to boot. Thank goodness that it's what I want to do with my life and that I really do want to learn the material, or else it would be reaaaaaaaaally boring.

In addition to that, I'm taking a history of rock and roll class, which I thought would be a less intensive class to pair with psych. I was wrong. <rant> This class is tedious and annoying. The grading is not only entirely subjective (on papers, anyway), but we are graded against one another. Seriously. Here's an excerpt from an email our instructor sent:

"[Your papers] are read and graded subjectively based on the stated expectations listed in the Syllabus. INART instructors are not obligated to furnish graded papers, which would be nearly impossible given the time constraints. 

Additionally, your writing is graded on its own quality along with how it stacks up compared to others in this section. You may write a perfectly acceptable paper on Chuck Berry. Many other students might write one on that same subject. The better versions will get the higher grades. There are not a lot of A+ papers. They have to be REALLY GOOD and I know them when I read them. The median grade is usually B-/B+ for acceptable, but not especially memorable papers. Those papers make their case but may not offer especially interesting or thought provoking support. I usually hear from students that tell me they put effort into the writing, answered the question, and followed my instructions. That may be true, but it does not necessarily guarantee the highest grades. Someone may have said the same thing better."

So, I don't get any feedback on my paper (I can ask for a "quick recap" of why he graded the way he did), and I'm graded against everyone else. So if there happens to be another paper that chose a similar argument to make (these are primarily position papers) and our instructor likes that paper better, I get a lower score, even though I followed all instructions and met all criteria. Grand.

Oh, and how could I possibly forget that some of the quiz questions are subjective, too? I got a True/False question wrong on my first quiz. The question read something along the lines of "Rock and roll is clearly the combination of blah, blah..." I marked it True, because our book said that several music historians and experts believed that it was a combo of whatever. It was supposed to be False, apparently, because it wasn't "clear" enough. Really? Pretty sure that's subjective, and if a bunch of experts in the field believe it to be true, that's "clear" enough for me. But hey, that's cool. Feel free to completely brush me off when I write an email about this and asking whether or not future questions would also be subjective.

OK, OK. I know I'm being a whiny bitch. But I was really looking forward to this class. Don't get me wrong... I do enjoy the music we get to listen to and I love learning the history behind certain songs or musicians, but I don't feel like the quizzes (2/3 of my final grade, BTW) really measure what I've learned, or that the papers (the other 1/3 of my grade) are graded to reflect my understanding of the topic and material. This isn't a writing class; the syllabus specifically says that. And yet... Ugh. </rant>

Anywhoozles, any "free" time I have that doesn't involve work or school has pretty much been taken up with Uncharted 3 (a game on the PS3), reading (I'm on the third book of the Game of Thrones series aka "A Song of Ice and Fire" series) or sleeping. I've gotten out to do a few fun things. Like last weekend we went to the Pet Expo and I got to meet Wallace the Pitbull. And later this week we're going to a hockey game. And before the semester started, Hubby, Maxine and I went up to Door County for a long weekend (you can see/vote for some of my pictures from that trip at Capture Door County).

Spring break is in 3 weeks, and while we're not doing anything so exciting as last year's Disney trip, it will be so nice to have a whole week without homework. Hubby and I are even taking a day off of work together. Partly because we're getting a new fridge delivered (YAY!), but mostly because my weekends are pretty full of homework, so we need a day together to just relax. Can. Not. Wait.

Well, I suppose I should get back to my busy life. 

Weeeee.