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. 

Jump Right In...

Sit right down! For real, you might want to be sitting. Because I'm going to tell you all about the last month or so of my life, and it's going to take awhile.

Let's start with a couple of things that happened BEFORE the last month or so, but since my last post (the one about Pepper, not the Pokemon Go post). We adopted a new dog named Penny Lane, who is an adorable, tiny schnauzer mix that I love with all my heart. We've had her for almost a year and a half now. This spring I finally graduated from PSU (huzzah!!) and had a graduation party, which was awesome. I turned 31 and then 32, which isn't as awesome, but definitely not bad. And, um... Yeah, that about covers things.

The last month of my life has been many things. Stressful probably tops the list. For the most part, it started right around August 10th, though I didn't know it at the time. It was hot and humid here in the land of Sconnie, and when you wear glasses in the humidity, a few things happen. One is that your lenses tend to fog up when you step out of the beautiful A/C into the tropic-like moisture that 80% humidity offers. Another is that your glasses slide a lot (yay, sweat) and you're constantly pushing them back to their rightful place. Basically, your glasses end up pretty dirty and smudged. Add two excitable dogs and putting a camera to your face a bunch and you start to assume the world is supposed to look slightly blurred or blobby. At least, I did.

It started with me just thinking my glasses were constantly dirty. And while that was mostly true, I eventually realized that cleaning them wasn't fixing the problem. Things were still... off. By Saturday, August 13th, I knew something was amiss. I was trying to read something and realized that it was taking longer than normal because I was hunting around for the letters. I felt like I could see the words on the page, but I couldn't see the whole word at once. Odd.

I closed my left eye and nothing was wrong. I closed my right eye and holy shit, what happened to the world?! With my left eye alone, bits and pieces of my sight appeared to be missing, which I determined couldn't be a good thing. Maybe my sight has been slowly getting worse and I'm just now realizing it? Yeah, that must be it. So I made an appointment with an optometrist for late September.

Image from MS Unites (msunites.com)

As I was explaining things to Hubby, I realized that it wasn't just the sight itself. Colors were muted and things looked faded or dulled. I went back online and found an earlier appointment; I wasn't going to wait for this to get worse before I did something. In fact, I almost had Hubby take me to urgent care or the ER because I was terrified that I was experiencing retinal detachment. But then I finally searched for the color loss and found Optic Neuritis (ON), which seemed to fit what I was experiencing. So I calmed my tits and we waited for the appointment.

On the 17th, Hubby and I went to the optometrist. While I can still technically see with that eye (in fact, my prescription only changed by the smallest amount it possibly can), she said my symptoms sounded like an optic nerve issue. She referred me to an ophthalmologist and said she'd call the clinic to get me in sooner rather than later. Someone from the clinic called me the next morning and we scheduled an appointment for Friday afternoon.

In the meantime, I had plenty of time to research ON. Inflammation of the optic nerve. Usually affects just one eye. Color loss can occur. Typically resolves on its own in a few months (ugh, months?). Strongly associated with Multiple Sclerosis.

Wait, what? Back that up a minute, please. MS? No, no. That can't be right... Can it?

The more I read about the relationship between ON and MS, the more I was looking for something else - ANYTHING else - it could be. (An ocular migraine, maybe? Or Idiopathic Intracranial Hypertension? That one affects overweight women of child-bearing age - that description fits me to a T! Could that be it?) Unfortunately, the more I read about ON, the more it sounded spot on, and the more anxious I got. I tried to reassure myself by going over the symptoms of MS (none of which I had, save ON) and by reading about isolated occurrences of ON. But the seed had been planted, and I was just pouring on the water and fertilizer. I was terrified I had MS.

I actually missed numbers for the 1st time in my life.

Hubby was (very fortunately) able to accompany me to my appointment. I don't know what I'd have done if he wasn't there, so I'm just glad he was. After a few quick tests, those awful eye drops that turn your eyes yellow (which Hubby hadn't seen before), and some "pictures" of my optic nerve, it all came down to one conclusion: I had ON. I had correctly self-diagnosed.

I'll save the rest for later. Stay tuned.