Me in 2013, My Dad in 1983

My surgeon never calls me unless it is something…important. Bad important. He called me on Monday and said he couldn’t explain over the phone, but I had to come in right away to get more x-rays and so he could show me in person what he was talking about. After my MRI that went wrong (torn vein + allergic reaction), the results came back. The are unsettling to say the least.

I could see it on the x-rays before he even said what it was. I have a hole in the lateral cortex of my femur, it looked about an inch long. It looked like a dark lesion, and it is about where the tumor was taken over 2 years ago. It appeared out of nowhere — like everything else — since my last x-ray in the fall. But the hole isn’t the part that is unsettling, it is what is inside of it. A white dot. It isn’t communicating with the outside and they have no idea what it is. Several meetings, a dozen other experts, and more radiology opinions — no one knows what the hell it is! My surgeon/oncologist doesn’t like not being able to explain what something is!

I am staying off the leg as much as possible (I knew it was fragile, but Jeez) and am prepping for a procedure to have them go in and see what the white dot is. A biopsy-like thing, but not quite, since there is nothing that they can take to put under a microscope. I’ll get put under while they poke through my bone and see what this thing is. I was told it would be benign, but I heard that before, remember?

This has set me off into a depression and freak-out that has already caused a chunk of my eyebrows to fall out; I missed a lot of events this week, have had a cold for 2 weeks, and to top it off a funeral planning service called me at home not 30 minutes after I got the news! Until they go into my leg, however, I can only wait. If this is something that keeps occurring I know that full amputation isn’t far off.

Below is a CBS piece on  my dad and his battle with cancer, that also came quick. It’s my TV debut at age five! I wish I could tell you it had a happy ending.

5 thoughts on “Me in 2013, My Dad in 1983”

  1. Turns out it is a benign cyst along with some tissue fragments (this read from a report from the nurse after 2+ weeks of me calling to get the pathology results). It’s been weeks and the biopsy wound hasn’t healed all the way + they took some bone and I ended up with a minor stress fracture.

    But, to top it all of, my oncologist STILL hasn’t returned my phone calls as to what I’m supposed to do, now.

    I guess the good news is, I get to keep my leg!

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