It was a Sunday evening. I was standing there and all the sudden it hit me. I had never felt such pain... ever. I literally fell to the ground, collapsing, grabbing my head in agony. My friend was concerned. She considered calling 911, but just as quickly as the pain came, it was gone.
What a lot of people know about me is that I am a WebMD guru. I have the app. I use the symptom checker every time I feel sick in the slightest. So, of course, when I had a chance, I WebMD'd my symptoms and much to my dismay I discovered I was probably going to die. Yes, according to my research I had a brain tumor. I called my mother, she reassured me that I was not going to die. In fact, I was young and relatively healthy, I had no reason to be concerned. She told me it was probably a migraine.
Over the next three days the headaches returned. Most would be convinced by now that they were indeed migraines, but I on the other hand was convinced more than ever that I had the brain tumor that WebMD had diagnosed me with. Wednesday morning came, I was sitting in my 8 am class when another "migraine" came along. It was so severe that I left class, called my doctor's office and they got me an appointment for that morning. I went back to class, grabbed my stuff and drove straight to the doctor's office.
Dr. Robinson was visiting from the sports medicine department. He was doing his fellowship (I believe) at Utah Valley Regional Medical Center. But, he was randomly at the family practice. Little did I know-- that man would save my life.
I met with the doctor (keeping my insane brain tumor theory to myself). He asked me questions about my headaches and didn't blink when I said they'd only been going on for 3 days. He didn't turn me away, give me a prescription for migraines, or anything like that. Instead, he talked with me gently. He asked me what I wanted to do, and told me what he thought we should do. He said he wanted me to go over to the hospital for a CT scan. He said he wanted to check for a brain tumor. (WHAT?!) But, he assured me no one he had ever sent over for a CT scan in this circumstance ever had a tumor. After the CT scan, the technician said they saw something questionable, called the doctor, spoke with him, and then the doctor spoke with me over the phone. He said he wanted an MRI. I wasn't even that scared at this point. I had half prepared myself for this moment over the past few days, and half was so shocked that it hadn't even really hit me. The technician showed me the CT scan and pointed out where they were seeing something. The doctor called again, and said that he wanted to do an immediate MRI. They kept my IV in and sent me over for an MRI. (I was alone since I left for the doctor at 8:30 that morning. I hadn't thought to call anyone because knowing my luck, they would find nothing, and I would be back in class the next day as if nothing had ever happened.)
After my MRI, I was told the doctor would call with any news. Within 3 hours of leaving the hospital I got the call. A call that changed my life forever. Dr. Robinson called and said they had found a tumor in my brain. Again, half of me had been prepared for that news. Afterall, WebMD had diagnosed me with a brain tumor 3 days earlier. But, the other half of me was scared to death.
I was alone when I got the news. I broke into tears. I immediately called my parents. Once. Twice. Three times. Four. Five. Six times. No answer. I called my sisters, no answers. My sister Allie finally answered but I was too upset to talk, so I hung up. (I will forever regret not talking with her at that moment.) I called my best friend at the time and talked with him about what I had learned. He was so understanding and just listened to me. I still didn't know much at all about the tumor, but my fears got the best of me, and yet, he listened. It was the greatest blessing. Looking back now, I feel he was in my life for that very moment. Because God knew I needed someone to talk to in that time. When I finally got a hold of my mom, and told her what news I received-- that I had a brain tumor-- she didn't believe me. She thought WebMD had once again got the best of me. But it hadn't. I told her again what happened. Finally she realized I was serious, and as I shook and trembled, we cried.
The next day my Aunt Carol went with me to Dr. Robinson's office over at the sports medicine center. He explained what he knew about the tumor and what kind of tumor it was expected to be. He recommended I see a surgeon right away. We called around using every apparent favor we had. Finally we got an appointment to see the well-known Dr. Reichman. We saw him a few days later and he explained what he could. He was kind, and concerned. Took time to talk and answer questions. We scheduled surgery for Nov 1, 2010. This was to be a biopsy surgery.
My mom flew into town. She worked with me to finish packing up my apartment, withdraw from my classes, get out of my housing contract, etc. Then early morning Nov 1, 2010 we drove to UVRMC and I had my first brain surgery.
I was as lucky as could be. I had a TON of friends and family come visit me the week I was in the hospital. I realized then, at that moment, who my true friends were. (I kissed every single person on the cheek. It was kind of a random experience that ended up kinda neat.) I got bouquets and bouquets of flowers (my most favorite thing in the world). It went as well as it could've. After a week, I finally flew home.
Nov 30, 2010 I had my second brain surgery by Dr. Watson. He was a quirky guy but one of the nicest and most genuine people I've ever met to this day. He did a marvelous job-- and this time removed the rest of the tumor. After some time we learned what kind of tumor it actually was. It was an Oligodendroglioma. A rare brain tumor usually found in 50-60 yr old men. They usually die within 10 years of being diagnosed. But we were hopeful. I was young, only 20, and we were aggressive. We also learned it was cancerous. My brain literally was the tumor and it was killing me-- so I like to say.
I started chemotherapy in Jan 2011 and did 6 rounds of chemo. Fortunately for me, I was able to take a pill every day for 5 days once a month. Sounds bad, but it TOTALLY beats being in a hospital and practically living there for 6 months.
Jun 2011 I was told I was CANCER FREE!
It's been over 3 years since I was diagnosed, and almost 3 years since I was diagnosed in remission. It will be a happy day when I turn 101 and live past when my doctor's expected.
Moral of this story? TRUST WEBMD. No, I'm kidding. Seriously, it was a joke. Stop going to webmd.com. Bad idea.
More to come.
- J
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