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. 

A Tale of Two MRIs, Part 1: The Fascinoma

When is a trip to the dentist more than just a trip to the dentist? When you're me, apparently.

Background

I went something like seven years without going to the dentist in my 20s. It wasn't some kind of protest, nor did I have a bad experience, I simply didn't go. Mostly because I had moved from my hometown and didn't know how to seek out a dentist of my own in a new area. Adulting is hard.

About 6 or 7 years ago I was finally worried enough to look into things. Sort of. I had these bumps in my mouth and I knew my husband was going to the dentist soon, so I told him to ask them if that's a normal thing. When he came home from his appointment, he told me that I now had an appointment of my very own. Yay.

At that appointment, I was told about mandibular tori. Basically, they're extra bone growths that are perfectly normal. Sweet! I assumed that accounted for both the bumps I was worried about, so I stopped worrying about things. For awhile.

Current Day 

This August I went to what should have been a normal dental exam. When asked if anything was bothering me, I said no, but that I was curious if there was anything I could do for jaw clenching. See, I carry my stress in my upper back, neck, and jaw. Always have, probably always will. This results in frequent clenching of my jaw, even when I don't realize I'm doing it. Also, I have no idea how to actually relax my jaw. (If you've ever been in choir or anything similar, you might remember being asked to relax your jaw and then move it back and forth with your hands. I had to fake it. I literally do not understand how to make my jaw relax like that.)

My hygienist asked if there was a reason I was asking, and I told her that I thought my bump might have grown in size. I had read online that this was a possibility with bruxism (teeth grinding and/or jaw clenching), which she confirmed. She decided to take a look so we could discuss getting a custom mouth guard.

While poking around she seemed to be a bit perplexed. She did a few extra x-rays and called the dentist (who we call Doc) in. The bump didn't show up in the x-rays like a normal torus (singular of tori) would. Actually, it didn't really show up in the x-rays much at all. To make sure everything was OK, I was referred to an oral surgeon.

Fast forward to the oral surgeon's office a week or so later. The assistant there asked me some questions, took a look, and started talking about tori. Another set of x-rays led to a quick CT scan. The CT scan led to a referral for an MRI. See, tori, as I've explained, are growths of bone. A CT scan would pick up a bone growth pretty easily, but my scan showed nothing in that area. The oral surgeon took to referring to it as a "fascinoma" - it's fascinating, but no idea what it is. He sent the referral to my doctor, who set me up with an MRI in early September.

As I've already talked about MRIs and the super amount of fun that they are, I won't go into that this time. Here are the highlights of the experience:

• I went all on my own. Thankfully, it was in the same building as my primary doctor, so I was familiar with the place.
• They had to administer the dye through the back of my hand again. Bastards.
• This MRI was MUCH shorter than last year's (which is likely because last year's was 2 MRIs rolled into one). 

It just so happened that I had my annual check-up with my doctor the next day, so when I got to that appointment, she already had my results. She told me that nothing looked bad or suspicious about the "fascinoma" and that generally if it were a problem (we avoided the C word, but it was implied) then the area around it would show warning signs, but everything looked good. Then she went on to mention that there was another spot they found during the MRI. Wait, what? No, I was just here for this one, thanks. Please no. :-( She told me they recommended another MRI, but that she would talk to Radiology and see if an ultrasound would suffice (since they're MUCH cheaper and faster). She said she'd get back to me when she had an answer.

In the meantime, I went back to the oral surgeon about a week later. He looked at my MRI. He looked in my mouth. He showed me the MRI and gave me a copy of the results. And he said the same thing as before: still fascinating, but still no idea what it was. He came up with the following plan. First, a referral to Endodontics (root canal guy) in case it's a dying/infected root. If that's not it, then a referral to an Ear, Nose, and Throat specialist. If there's still nothing at that point, then he would say as long as it's not causing issues, leave it alone. He mentioned that if I wasn't placated by that and wanted to get it biopsied, he'd be happy to go in and get some of it for me (no thanks), but if all these specialists looked at it and saw nothing, then it really probably wasn't anything to be concerned with. Since that more or less echoed my doctor's thoughts, I was fine with that, and off to Endodontics (which was just upstairs from the oral surgeon) I went.

To be continued...