Tuesday, December 8, 2015

Hospital Home Girl

I am quite familiar with hospitals. When I was five I broke my elbow and received a hot pink cast. The doctor didn’t believe I’d broken my elbow until he saw the X-ray. When I was thirteen I was having problems with my hearing. I went to audiologists time and time again but they couldn’t figure out what was wrong. They said it was like when an old person loses their hearing; the cochlea understands it but it does get deciphered by the brain. Yay! Medical anomaly they made me go to way too many doctors for. Then I started to lose the movement in the right side of my face at fourteen. We went to my main doctor for him to basically send me to another doctor after saying I’m not old enough to have Bell’s palsy. Yay! Anomaly 2!
                The new doctor he sent me to was a neurologist. He did a lot of silly tests. He had me smell different things. He tested if I had feeling in my hands and face. He tested my hearing. Ha! Join the club! He tested my reflexes. He made me run up and down a hallway about 15 times. After the fifth time I started looking to him like “can I stop?” He motioned for me to keep going and around the tenth or eleventh time he told my mom that most teenagers would swear at him by this time. After all of his weird tests he ordered an MRI. If you’ve never had an MRI they suck. I mean it’s nice to lie down but that makes you want to fall asleep but if you move too much they have to take that image over. Also, it is super loud! And if you have claustrophobia, you better ask to be sedated because the MRI is a tube they insert you into and the top is barely five inches away from your face.
                Because they scheduled the MRI on the 23rd of December, no one was around to read my MRI results. The doctors had all gone on their Christmas vacations. So my mom made an appointment with and ear, nose, and throat doctor as soon as offices opened up again which was well into January. The ENT told me that there was a tumor in my brain. As it happens, a pediatric neurosurgeon was in Reno that day. He’s from California and only makes the trip to Reno once a month. I was able to meet with him after waiting for all his other appointments to finish.
                This neurosurgeon said that he would do my brain surgery but we’d have to go to his hospital in California. They used this brand new state of the art equipment that I didn’t understand very much. Probably cost my parents a pretty penny. He got what he could of the tumor then did a biopsy to find that it was cancerous. However, I was out for that. I was in an induced coma for two or three days. When I started to wake up I felt like I was in a Walmart because in the ICU you can hear everyone’s heart monitor and it sounded like all the check-out machines in a Walmart. The next thing I remember was having these compression things on my legs and I hated them. I wanted them off immediately! However I’d have to be able to walk to get them off thus they stayed on until I got out of the ICU.
                When I got into an actual hospital room they started talking about cancer treatment. The hospital that did my treatment offered two different protocols but did not offer me the choice to choose. In both I would lose my hearing and only had 50%chance of survival. One treatment was nine months and the other was two years. My mother researched other options and saw that a different hospital offered a 65% chance of survival. 15% more is a lot better than nothing. So she emailed the doctor that headed up that protocol and he promised he would do everything in his power to save my hearing and my life.
                At that hospital I went through 33 round of the most intense radiation a human can receive and 4 rounds of in-hospital chemotherapy. The cancer had spread to my spine so they had to radiate my whole torso as well as my skull. When my white blood cell count was still high they siphoned off me stem cells so they could inject them into me when my counts were really low to help my body recover quicker. I probably vomited more during those 8 months than the average human does in their life. I totally want to put on my resume that I am a professional barf-er.
                During my cancer treatment my legs acquired neuropathy which means my muscles didn’t respond to the messages my brain sent through my nerves. That meant that I rocked leg braces and a walker for a year of high school. It also meant that I got cast as the old lady in all of the plays that year. After I graduated from those things and could walk without them I received two facial surgeries in Boston. From those surgeries I got about 12 scars. I’d look pretty garish in a bikini without one of my wigs on.

                If that isn’t enough proof that I know my way around hospitals, I could tell you about all the checkups had after cancer treatment. For thirty-six months after cancer treatment I had checkups every three months. For the next two years I had them every six months. Then, for the next five years I’d have them every year. I’m proud to say I only have three more before I’m truly free of this cancer hospital. 

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