Still chilly in New England, but happily - no snow.
I had my Shingles shot last Friday and like most inoculations I get, I ended up getting the 'possible' side effects. Besides the soreness of the injection site, I was experiencing a general BLAH-si-ness and my energy level has been low. By Monday, I felt like I had the flu and slept almost 12 hours. After the needed rest, I began to feel a bit better, although my appetite has also been adversely affected.
Possibly from the extended sleeping cycle on Monday, I woke up [wide awake] at 2 AM on Wednesday morning. After some unsuccessful fighting to go back to sleep, I got up and watched TV until sunrise. By then I was up for the day. I've had disruptive sleep patterns all week. So I also assumed that this deprivation was also the cause of the sudden appearance of floaters and visual anomalies in my right eye (the eye on which I had surgery).
My eye drop regimen ended Thursday, so I was thinking that the 'withdrawal' might have something to do with it. I was more aware of my floaters and could see some 'light' in my temporal region - even with my eye closed. As the week progressed the 'light' was less pronounced, but the floaters persisted as well as some aching.
Arriving in Waltham today for my follow-up, I spilled my guts about my recent turn of events regarding my eye. [Sometimes I feel like I'm being overly sensitive, but I do want to go on record.] This reporting just triggered a barrage of testing. I was there almost two and a half hours. By the time I saw Dr. Song and his review of the test results, he then gave me additional tests. He did say that the lens position was 'good' and he did not see anything out of the ordinary. He did say I definitely had floaters.
I had asked if these go away. Dr Song said, "Floaters are a result of condensation in the aqueous 'jelly'. The floaters are fairly common and the brain learns to ignore them. However, if they worsen, it could cause a retinal tear." [Lovely]. He couldn't really explain the cracks of light I could see but said, " If you get a burst of bright light, you'll need to come in."For the interim, he wants me to monitor and return in two months. [Nothing is ever easy.]
On a different front, I'm sad to report that my (unexplained) neuropathy in my forefinger and thumb has returned. Gladly it doesn't interfere with ability to play guitar or keyboards, but it is difficult picking up small things, coins, loose coffee bean, etc. and buttoning certain types of buttons becomes almost impossible to do. I've learned to let my right hand do that before putting on that type of garment. You do what you have to do.
More to come!
[By the way - tomorrow marks my one year anniversary of Chemo One]
Friday, June 10, 2016
Wednesday, June 1, 2016
"June is bustin' out all over"
By golly it's June. And Mother Nature did not disappoint as she served up a splendiferous day to mark the first day of this month. As I flipped the calendar page I could see many doctor appointments scheduled. These check-ins and follow-ups also serve as vivid reminders of what I had undergone last year. Looking back, by this time last year I had already been under the knife three times and was about to begin my regimen of chemotherapy. Looking ahead, it's all behind me and I survived!
I've reached the clean-up and stabilization phase.
In the interim, I'm enjoying life, retirement and music. I'm happy to report that the lingering (non-explained) neuropathy in my forefinger and thumb has almost completely dissipated. I'm still feeling (not feeling) the neuropathy in the balls of both feet. But as I reported earlier, it does not impede my ability to walk or stand. I do experience chemo brain, still. It happens at the oddest times and it's very disconcerting to me. Luckily it's sporadic and for the most part just when trying to find the right word or remember some piece of information, like someone's name. But for the most part my memory is in tact. I suppose my feet of clay are showing (LOL).
More to come!
I've reached the clean-up and stabilization phase.
- Cataract surgery was successful and (hopefully) I just have one more follow-up with Dr. Song.
- Dr. Gruber administered a spray of liquid nitrogen to treat a pre-cancerous area of my ear lobe and I have a follow-up scheduled for this month.
- In a visit with Dr. Chatson today, he indicated that things were coming along nicely and wants to see me in December.
- Also visited Dr. Mehta who 'felt me up' for possible cancerous lumps and found none. I will also be seeing him in December. He filled my Tamoxifen prescription for another year and instructed me to perform self examinations for lumps.
- Towards the end of this month, I am also scheduled to see Dr. Pare to see the status of my Triple A (Aneurysm). It would be great to hear that there has been no change. But it is what it is.
In the interim, I'm enjoying life, retirement and music. I'm happy to report that the lingering (non-explained) neuropathy in my forefinger and thumb has almost completely dissipated. I'm still feeling (not feeling) the neuropathy in the balls of both feet. But as I reported earlier, it does not impede my ability to walk or stand. I do experience chemo brain, still. It happens at the oddest times and it's very disconcerting to me. Luckily it's sporadic and for the most part just when trying to find the right word or remember some piece of information, like someone's name. But for the most part my memory is in tact. I suppose my feet of clay are showing (LOL).
More to come!
Sunday, May 22, 2016
Follow-up with Dr. Song
I was happy to have had a later morning appointment for my second follow-up with Dr. Song at Mass Eye and Ear in Waltham. My drive was a piece of cake compared to my rush hour drive on Friday the 13th (of all days). However, traffic wasn't too heavy and was moving nicely. I made it in plenty of time to spare.
After checking in, I noticed many patients waiting. Figuring I had time to kill, I picked up a hard cover book of eye anomalies - very graphic. It had before and after pictures of everything from an eye sty to evisceration. I guess anything to show that 'you' don't have it so bad. Well it was my choice to look at it, but it really was kind of gross for a waiting room.
The technician, Steve called my name and I followed him into the first of three examination rooms. In the first he took some pictures of both eyes, gave me eye drops then waltzed me over to another room where more pictures/measurements were taken. Headed back to the first room, I was given a complete eye exam where I found that my new eye had 20/15 vision - wow. And even more surprising, my other eye had improved from 20/30 to 20/20. [The body has miraculous powers of recovery.] After being given drops for dilation, I was asked to return to the waiting room.
About 15 minutes later, I was called and was escorted to room number number two for more pictures and measurements. After completing this, I was once again told to return to the waiting room. By this time the crowd had thinned out. I had already been there more than an hour at this point. Shortly after, I was called to visit Dr. Song in room number three.
Dr. Song was reviewing my test results and updating my record. After exchanging pleasantries, he asked how I was doing and what was the status of my post-op side effects. Gladly, all had abated. He set up the mechanism that allowed him to see inside and around my eye. He was very pleased with the results. "Your eye is healing nicely", he said. "You can resume normal activities and discontinue the nightly eye guard." He added that I could discontinue one of the eye meds and reduce the prednisone. "I'll see you in three weeks", he said as he shook my hand.
I made sure to have a late morning appointment when I booked it with the receptionist.
Things were looking up - no pun intended. More to come.
After checking in, I noticed many patients waiting. Figuring I had time to kill, I picked up a hard cover book of eye anomalies - very graphic. It had before and after pictures of everything from an eye sty to evisceration. I guess anything to show that 'you' don't have it so bad. Well it was my choice to look at it, but it really was kind of gross for a waiting room.
The technician, Steve called my name and I followed him into the first of three examination rooms. In the first he took some pictures of both eyes, gave me eye drops then waltzed me over to another room where more pictures/measurements were taken. Headed back to the first room, I was given a complete eye exam where I found that my new eye had 20/15 vision - wow. And even more surprising, my other eye had improved from 20/30 to 20/20. [The body has miraculous powers of recovery.] After being given drops for dilation, I was asked to return to the waiting room.
About 15 minutes later, I was called and was escorted to room number number two for more pictures and measurements. After completing this, I was once again told to return to the waiting room. By this time the crowd had thinned out. I had already been there more than an hour at this point. Shortly after, I was called to visit Dr. Song in room number three.
Dr. Song was reviewing my test results and updating my record. After exchanging pleasantries, he asked how I was doing and what was the status of my post-op side effects. Gladly, all had abated. He set up the mechanism that allowed him to see inside and around my eye. He was very pleased with the results. "Your eye is healing nicely", he said. "You can resume normal activities and discontinue the nightly eye guard." He added that I could discontinue one of the eye meds and reduce the prednisone. "I'll see you in three weeks", he said as he shook my hand.
I made sure to have a late morning appointment when I booked it with the receptionist.
Things were looking up - no pun intended. More to come.
Friday, May 13, 2016
Cataract Surgery - Post-Op - Follow-up
For a 'side sleeper' as myself, being restricted from sleeping on one of my sides is not conducive to a good night's sleep. In addition, having an eye guard taped to my face made sleeping almost impossible.
At 4:30 AM the alarm went off. It was dark and I was disheartened when I tried to 'see' with my new lens. Nothing. My good eye now open, I could see, but nothing out of my other. As I got to more light, I could eventually see, but it was disconcerting to experience this first thing.
After instilling my regimen of eye drops, I had some badly needed coffee, but had to resort to reading an ePaper on my phone since my news carrier didn't arrive until sunrise. I was able to read using both eyes, but my new lens was still a bit blurry. However, even that was better than looking through (or trying to see through) my cataract.
My ride arrived around 6:30 and we trekked into Waltham. Being Friday the 13th, I was leery of route 128. Murphy's Law prevailed and a truck had careened off the road on the opposite side and all the rubber-necking caused Southbound traffic to stall for a good number of miles. [I don't miss the commute - AT ALL.]
We finally made it by 7:55 and was the first patient to arrive. A technician, Ellen called me into the examination room. She checked my vision and proclaimed that I had eagle vision - 20/20. Wow!!! I was able to whip through all the lines on the chart except the very last. [I believe she said that if I did see that, I would be 20/10.]
I had asked about my inability to see in the dark and a sporadic 'halo effect'. Ellen indicated that some of the meds used on me caused my pupil to be restricted, thus reducing the amount of light to the retina. [I did check later and found this to be true when I looked at both eyes.] As for the halo, she said that it goes away after time and as the eye heals.
I was discharged to the waiting room until Dr. Song called me in. He looked at my eye through his machine and seemed very pleased with the results. I asked him to confirm (or deny) that I had sutures. He chuckled and said, "No sutures." I told him that I couldn't tell what was going on, but my imagination was running rampant. After a very big smile, he said, "You did very well and your cooperation made it easier." [How could I not cooperate? I'll take the praise when I can.]
I have a follow-up next week, but he said that I still have restrictions for a week: I have to wear the eye guard at night; no sleeping on my right side (bummer); no lifting anything over 10 pounds; and no bending below my waist.
When I had asked about the halo effect, he indicated that it goes away as the lens becomes seated. He did say that in about 5% of the procedures, the lens moves and another surgery is necessary. [This was disconcerting especially since 3% of all breast cancers are in males. So I'm not a fan of those types of percentages.]
We decided to take a different route home and in true Friday the 13th form, traffic was terrible and it took more than an hour to get home. [Yup, don't miss the commute.]
More to come.
At 4:30 AM the alarm went off. It was dark and I was disheartened when I tried to 'see' with my new lens. Nothing. My good eye now open, I could see, but nothing out of my other. As I got to more light, I could eventually see, but it was disconcerting to experience this first thing.
After instilling my regimen of eye drops, I had some badly needed coffee, but had to resort to reading an ePaper on my phone since my news carrier didn't arrive until sunrise. I was able to read using both eyes, but my new lens was still a bit blurry. However, even that was better than looking through (or trying to see through) my cataract.
My ride arrived around 6:30 and we trekked into Waltham. Being Friday the 13th, I was leery of route 128. Murphy's Law prevailed and a truck had careened off the road on the opposite side and all the rubber-necking caused Southbound traffic to stall for a good number of miles. [I don't miss the commute - AT ALL.]
We finally made it by 7:55 and was the first patient to arrive. A technician, Ellen called me into the examination room. She checked my vision and proclaimed that I had eagle vision - 20/20. Wow!!! I was able to whip through all the lines on the chart except the very last. [I believe she said that if I did see that, I would be 20/10.]
I had asked about my inability to see in the dark and a sporadic 'halo effect'. Ellen indicated that some of the meds used on me caused my pupil to be restricted, thus reducing the amount of light to the retina. [I did check later and found this to be true when I looked at both eyes.] As for the halo, she said that it goes away after time and as the eye heals.
I was discharged to the waiting room until Dr. Song called me in. He looked at my eye through his machine and seemed very pleased with the results. I asked him to confirm (or deny) that I had sutures. He chuckled and said, "No sutures." I told him that I couldn't tell what was going on, but my imagination was running rampant. After a very big smile, he said, "You did very well and your cooperation made it easier." [How could I not cooperate? I'll take the praise when I can.]
I have a follow-up next week, but he said that I still have restrictions for a week: I have to wear the eye guard at night; no sleeping on my right side (bummer); no lifting anything over 10 pounds; and no bending below my waist.
When I had asked about the halo effect, he indicated that it goes away as the lens becomes seated. He did say that in about 5% of the procedures, the lens moves and another surgery is necessary. [This was disconcerting especially since 3% of all breast cancers are in males. So I'm not a fan of those types of percentages.]
We decided to take a different route home and in true Friday the 13th form, traffic was terrible and it took more than an hour to get home. [Yup, don't miss the commute.]
More to come.
Cataract Surgery
It was a beautiful day Thursday.
I arrived early at SurgiSite Boston, Waltham and was checked in quickly. [Thank you Leslie, for driving.] I was escorted by Gabe to the 'prep' area that looked much like the chemotherapy unit I got to know all too well last summer. There were a number of reclining chairs and many health professionals milling about and attending to the patients. My assigned seat was way at the end. Gabe gave me a hair net cap and fastened a surgical gown over my clothes. I was instructed to sit and another person (un-named), attached electrodes and blood pressure cuff. Yet another person draped a warm blanket over my legs as Lisa introduced herself and began her ritual of asking me a litany of questions: did I take my meds today; did I eat; etc., she entered the information into their computer system.
Just as she was finishing, Steve, the anesthesiologist stopped by and explained the procedures I would be having and what kind of sedative (and how much) I would be given. Although I was probably told this, Steve described the two procedures. First, I would be bought into a room where a laser would break apart my cataract and incisions would be made on my eye. Second, I would be brought into the operating room where the broken cataract lens would be removed. Dr. Song would then place my corrective lens in place. It sounded clear cut.
Being early, I had to wait nearly an hour before being wheeled in. So I apologized and asked to use the rest room. Steve told me that I couldn't because the fluids where needed to be retained by my body - then he laughed and said he was joking. He unchained me and allowed me to take care of things.
After returning and waiting for my turn, I noticed a steady stream of patients being wheeled in as others were wheeled out and given a debriefing with instructions for care. Very methodically organized.
Finally it was my turn. I was wheeled into the first room and a few professionals got me onto a very narrow 'bed' with a special spot for my head. My head was strapped into place so I could not move. [Good thing].
Dr. Song arrived and asked, "Which eye we were working on today?" [Common practice these days.] He explained what would be happening and what to expect. "You'll see a lot of lights and shapes. You may feel some pressure", he said. A suctioned guard (of sorts) was then placed in my eye socket and I was positioned under the arm of the machine. I was instructed to "look at the blinking light." Yes, there were many types of lights, shapes and odd sounds, but the most disturbing is when the suction device lost its suction. There wasn't panic, but I sensed that it was not supposed to happen and everything came to an abrupt stop. I heard some medical jargon being exchanged, then I was told that the suction was lost so I was going "back under" so the procedure could be finished. At the conclusion the doctor said, "I think we got it all." [You think?? Really??]
I was wheeled into the operating room where Jean introduced himself. Other medical professionals where quickly preparing me as a nurse and Dr. Song entered. A hood-like apparatus covered my head was attached to my eye socket with some adhesive. The only opening in the hood was just for the eye. Yes, the Clockwork Orange implements came out and my eye was propped open. They quickly got to work. I was unsure how long this would last, since the laser took about 5 minutes - even with the start/stop/resume. Unfortunately for me, I needed to visit the restroom again and all I could think about was how badly I needed to go. Of course the steady stream of eye drops (thoughts of waterboarding came to mind) didn't help ease my full bladder. I just wanted it to be done.
Other than my bladder discomfort, there wasn't any pain or discomfort from the procedure. There was a few times when I felt pressure, but not really seeing what was happening (and probably the effects of the sedative), I was having all these thoughts of what - might be happening. Did they mess up and have to cut through the cornea? Did the lens not unfurl as desired? Did they have to use bobby pins to move the lens into place? Did they have to use dissolving sutures? Of course none of these transpired. [I asked Dr Song at my follow-up.]
After Dr. Song announced that we were done, I was detached from my tether and wheeled back to the prep/recovery area. I had asked if I could visit the restroom. The professional said, "You'll be leaving in about 10 minutes." I said I really had to go. Thank heavens. I can't imagine where all these fluids came from.
After returning to my assigned chair, Ellen provided a debrief and instructions on what I could and could not do. I was provided with an eye guard that I needed to keep on (except when instilling eye drops), and sleep with. I couldn't sleep on my right side; lift anything more than 10 pounds; bend below my waist or drive a car. I was given a genuine imitation leather bag with some polarized sunglasses and an extra guard with adhesive tape. Gabe stopped by and escorted me to the main waiting room.
There was a good window of opportunity so traffic wasn't too bad and we made decent time getting home. I parked my butt on the couch and watched some Netflix. My vision was still blurry, but by bed time, I could see the TV and actually read through that eye. Awesome!
Unfortunately, I had to refrain from sleeping on my right side and as a result got little sleep. Of course my follow-up appointment was the next day at 8:15 AM. So getting up much earlier and having to deal with morning rush hour traffic wasn't something I was looking forward to.
More to come.
I arrived early at SurgiSite Boston, Waltham and was checked in quickly. [Thank you Leslie, for driving.] I was escorted by Gabe to the 'prep' area that looked much like the chemotherapy unit I got to know all too well last summer. There were a number of reclining chairs and many health professionals milling about and attending to the patients. My assigned seat was way at the end. Gabe gave me a hair net cap and fastened a surgical gown over my clothes. I was instructed to sit and another person (un-named), attached electrodes and blood pressure cuff. Yet another person draped a warm blanket over my legs as Lisa introduced herself and began her ritual of asking me a litany of questions: did I take my meds today; did I eat; etc., she entered the information into their computer system.
Just as she was finishing, Steve, the anesthesiologist stopped by and explained the procedures I would be having and what kind of sedative (and how much) I would be given. Although I was probably told this, Steve described the two procedures. First, I would be bought into a room where a laser would break apart my cataract and incisions would be made on my eye. Second, I would be brought into the operating room where the broken cataract lens would be removed. Dr. Song would then place my corrective lens in place. It sounded clear cut.
Being early, I had to wait nearly an hour before being wheeled in. So I apologized and asked to use the rest room. Steve told me that I couldn't because the fluids where needed to be retained by my body - then he laughed and said he was joking. He unchained me and allowed me to take care of things.
After returning and waiting for my turn, I noticed a steady stream of patients being wheeled in as others were wheeled out and given a debriefing with instructions for care. Very methodically organized.
Finally it was my turn. I was wheeled into the first room and a few professionals got me onto a very narrow 'bed' with a special spot for my head. My head was strapped into place so I could not move. [Good thing].
Dr. Song arrived and asked, "Which eye we were working on today?" [Common practice these days.] He explained what would be happening and what to expect. "You'll see a lot of lights and shapes. You may feel some pressure", he said. A suctioned guard (of sorts) was then placed in my eye socket and I was positioned under the arm of the machine. I was instructed to "look at the blinking light." Yes, there were many types of lights, shapes and odd sounds, but the most disturbing is when the suction device lost its suction. There wasn't panic, but I sensed that it was not supposed to happen and everything came to an abrupt stop. I heard some medical jargon being exchanged, then I was told that the suction was lost so I was going "back under" so the procedure could be finished. At the conclusion the doctor said, "I think we got it all." [You think?? Really??]
I was wheeled into the operating room where Jean introduced himself. Other medical professionals where quickly preparing me as a nurse and Dr. Song entered. A hood-like apparatus covered my head was attached to my eye socket with some adhesive. The only opening in the hood was just for the eye. Yes, the Clockwork Orange implements came out and my eye was propped open. They quickly got to work. I was unsure how long this would last, since the laser took about 5 minutes - even with the start/stop/resume. Unfortunately for me, I needed to visit the restroom again and all I could think about was how badly I needed to go. Of course the steady stream of eye drops (thoughts of waterboarding came to mind) didn't help ease my full bladder. I just wanted it to be done.
Other than my bladder discomfort, there wasn't any pain or discomfort from the procedure. There was a few times when I felt pressure, but not really seeing what was happening (and probably the effects of the sedative), I was having all these thoughts of what - might be happening. Did they mess up and have to cut through the cornea? Did the lens not unfurl as desired? Did they have to use bobby pins to move the lens into place? Did they have to use dissolving sutures? Of course none of these transpired. [I asked Dr Song at my follow-up.]
After Dr. Song announced that we were done, I was detached from my tether and wheeled back to the prep/recovery area. I had asked if I could visit the restroom. The professional said, "You'll be leaving in about 10 minutes." I said I really had to go. Thank heavens. I can't imagine where all these fluids came from.
After returning to my assigned chair, Ellen provided a debrief and instructions on what I could and could not do. I was provided with an eye guard that I needed to keep on (except when instilling eye drops), and sleep with. I couldn't sleep on my right side; lift anything more than 10 pounds; bend below my waist or drive a car. I was given a genuine imitation leather bag with some polarized sunglasses and an extra guard with adhesive tape. Gabe stopped by and escorted me to the main waiting room.
There was a good window of opportunity so traffic wasn't too bad and we made decent time getting home. I parked my butt on the couch and watched some Netflix. My vision was still blurry, but by bed time, I could see the TV and actually read through that eye. Awesome!
Unfortunately, I had to refrain from sleeping on my right side and as a result got little sleep. Of course my follow-up appointment was the next day at 8:15 AM. So getting up much earlier and having to deal with morning rush hour traffic wasn't something I was looking forward to.
More to come.
Wednesday, May 11, 2016
Catarct Pre-op and Skin Cancer Screening - Updates
We finally have some gorgeous weather. Loving it!
Everything is aligned for tomorrow's cataract surgery in Waltham. After numerous calls with SurgiSite Boston and Mass Eye and Ear, all approvals have been provided as well as my health insurance coverage, co-payment and other financials settled. My sister Leslie is accompanying me and has graciously agreed to do the driving. I've been on a regimen of pre-surgery medication that must be applied (eye drops) four times daily. After surgery I will be complementing those with a steroid. Not sure how long I'll need to be doing these, but I'll find out tomorrow.
Just the waiting game right now. I'm a bit apprehensive about my being 'conscious' during the procedure. I have visions of "Clockwork Orange". It is what it is.
A few weeks ago I had come across an article in the local paper where a free skin cancer screening was being offered at Holy Family in Methuen. Being keenly aware of my body's changes I had some concerns with a number of anomalies. There was no time like the present to have these checked out. Although I dread a medical professional uttering, "You have cancer", to me again early detection is key and it's free. [Effie would be proud.]
I finally found the area where folks where waiting for the screening. I was given some paperwork to complete (mostly a questionnaire). Not long afterward, I was escorted to an examination room where I was asked if I wanted a cursory examination, or a full blown one. Given this was free, I said, "I'll take the full blown exam". I was told that I would need to strip down to my underwear. No problem.
I had just begun to disrobe when Dr. David Gruber came in and introduced himself. He asked which areas I was concerned about as he was quickly 'eyeing me'. I pointed to two areas where the skin was thickening, but he said, "Those are wisdom marks and they are not a concern". [I guess that's a more sensitive term to describe old age spots, but hearing no concern - was good.] He said, "Those areas were seborrheic keratosis, not cancerous." I pointed out some other areas and was told that they were not concerning, but there was a spot on my ear (that was crusty) where sun damage had created a pre-cancerous condition. He said there's nothing to concern myself immediately and it's not an area where they biopsy. He said it treated by freezing those (actimic keratosis) cells.
I was truly relieved to hear that some of the areas I thought potentially harmful to my health - were nothing but 'wisdom' marks and the one area of concern is at a stage where it's treatable without all the lovely trappings of a cancer treatment.
I looked up Dr. Gruber and he's covered on my health plan. So I'll be scheduling an appointment after my cataract surgery and follow-ups have been completed.
Beautiful day and beautiful news. More to come.
Everything is aligned for tomorrow's cataract surgery in Waltham. After numerous calls with SurgiSite Boston and Mass Eye and Ear, all approvals have been provided as well as my health insurance coverage, co-payment and other financials settled. My sister Leslie is accompanying me and has graciously agreed to do the driving. I've been on a regimen of pre-surgery medication that must be applied (eye drops) four times daily. After surgery I will be complementing those with a steroid. Not sure how long I'll need to be doing these, but I'll find out tomorrow.
Just the waiting game right now. I'm a bit apprehensive about my being 'conscious' during the procedure. I have visions of "Clockwork Orange". It is what it is.
A few weeks ago I had come across an article in the local paper where a free skin cancer screening was being offered at Holy Family in Methuen. Being keenly aware of my body's changes I had some concerns with a number of anomalies. There was no time like the present to have these checked out. Although I dread a medical professional uttering, "You have cancer", to me again early detection is key and it's free. [Effie would be proud.]
I finally found the area where folks where waiting for the screening. I was given some paperwork to complete (mostly a questionnaire). Not long afterward, I was escorted to an examination room where I was asked if I wanted a cursory examination, or a full blown one. Given this was free, I said, "I'll take the full blown exam". I was told that I would need to strip down to my underwear. No problem.
I had just begun to disrobe when Dr. David Gruber came in and introduced himself. He asked which areas I was concerned about as he was quickly 'eyeing me'. I pointed to two areas where the skin was thickening, but he said, "Those are wisdom marks and they are not a concern". [I guess that's a more sensitive term to describe old age spots, but hearing no concern - was good.] He said, "Those areas were seborrheic keratosis, not cancerous." I pointed out some other areas and was told that they were not concerning, but there was a spot on my ear (that was crusty) where sun damage had created a pre-cancerous condition. He said there's nothing to concern myself immediately and it's not an area where they biopsy. He said it treated by freezing those (actimic keratosis) cells.
I was truly relieved to hear that some of the areas I thought potentially harmful to my health - were nothing but 'wisdom' marks and the one area of concern is at a stage where it's treatable without all the lovely trappings of a cancer treatment.
I looked up Dr. Gruber and he's covered on my health plan. So I'll be scheduling an appointment after my cataract surgery and follow-ups have been completed.
Beautiful day and beautiful news. More to come.
Wednesday, May 4, 2016
Errant Suture
OMG! May already. Time just zips by.
Happy Cinco de Mayo [tomorrow] everyone! I sure hope the sun decides to return. This cold, raw weather is really tough on the old bones. The long term forecast seems to be stalled on the current weather pattern. Oh well, no snow ;-)
I had a follow up visit with Dr. Chatson today. I guess I was the first appointment. The waiting room was empty and they told me to come right in. Jude took my vitals and prepared me for the doctor's arrival. Within a few minutes, the doctor and his assistant arrived. He looked at the site and indicated that he wanted to 'pick away' at some of the remaining scabbing to see if any sutures were hiding. An errant suture would delay the normal healing. Sure enough, he found one and quickly (and almost painlessly) pulled it free. The Physician's Assistant had me hold a mirror so I could see the site as the doctor examined. He said, "Things are coming along nicely."
I was told to come back for another follow-up visit in a month. (June before you know it.)
On another medical front, I was online and on the phone with Partners (Boston SurgiSite for my eye surgery next week) ensuring that there would be no 'issues' for insurance coverage and to determine my co-pay. Jasmine was very helpful and confirmed that I was all set. Now I just need confirmation from Mass Eye and Ear for the time. All my paperwork says that they will contact me a few days before the procedure. I'm all set with a ride to and from (thanks, Leslie). So it's a waiting game for final plans.
Health-wise, I'm doing OK. Still have some 'bad days' but mostly good days. I'm still coping with the my side effects of chemo, but nothing is stopping me from living and enjoying life. I've been very busy musically and I have re-joined the band I had to leave last year. It's nice to be back in action.
More to come.
Happy Cinco de Mayo [tomorrow] everyone! I sure hope the sun decides to return. This cold, raw weather is really tough on the old bones. The long term forecast seems to be stalled on the current weather pattern. Oh well, no snow ;-)
I had a follow up visit with Dr. Chatson today. I guess I was the first appointment. The waiting room was empty and they told me to come right in. Jude took my vitals and prepared me for the doctor's arrival. Within a few minutes, the doctor and his assistant arrived. He looked at the site and indicated that he wanted to 'pick away' at some of the remaining scabbing to see if any sutures were hiding. An errant suture would delay the normal healing. Sure enough, he found one and quickly (and almost painlessly) pulled it free. The Physician's Assistant had me hold a mirror so I could see the site as the doctor examined. He said, "Things are coming along nicely."
I was told to come back for another follow-up visit in a month. (June before you know it.)
On another medical front, I was online and on the phone with Partners (Boston SurgiSite for my eye surgery next week) ensuring that there would be no 'issues' for insurance coverage and to determine my co-pay. Jasmine was very helpful and confirmed that I was all set. Now I just need confirmation from Mass Eye and Ear for the time. All my paperwork says that they will contact me a few days before the procedure. I'm all set with a ride to and from (thanks, Leslie). So it's a waiting game for final plans.
Health-wise, I'm doing OK. Still have some 'bad days' but mostly good days. I'm still coping with the my side effects of chemo, but nothing is stopping me from living and enjoying life. I've been very busy musically and I have re-joined the band I had to leave last year. It's nice to be back in action.
More to come.
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