I, too, am tired of these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane.
So today I get a call on one of the internal phones. These phones have super top-double-secret numbers that are only dialable from other phones in the hospital system. I pick up the phone. The voice on the other end asks for me by my real, long-form name, the one that I normally keep hidden in a Hawaiian records office.
It's the scheduler for the OB/GYN, reproductive endocrinology, reproductive oncology people. She wants to know if I've scheduled the ultrasound followup for the hot spot they found on my PET scan. The one on my right ovary.
(*sound effect of screeching brakes*)
Me: What? What motherfucking what?
Her: Uh....has Dr. Crane's office not called you with the PET results?
Me: No. How 'bout you tell me what the fucking motherfuck is going on here?
Her: Well, they found a hot spot on your right ovary and I'm sure it's benign most of these things are it's probably nothing but we want to check it out right away so how's tomorrow at two o'clock?
Me: (trying not to sound panicked) Fine. Whatever. Great. *click*
After I hung up the phone, I yelled to my partner that I was heading downstairs for a bit, then borrowed the boss lady's office to have a nice thorough bout of hysterics (I made the appointment for the ultrasound and follow-up first, though). Hot spot, PET scan, ovary, age 41, adenocarcinoma already, holy crap.
Boss Lady sent me home. She didn't even give me a chance to argue, just called in somebody else and shoved me out the door. So home I came, and watched Dr. Who until my brain exploded. Then I took a nap.
When I got up, I discovered two things: That Dr. Crane had left me a detailed voice message after the tone, and that he'd also sent an email. His communications had crossed with the phone call from the folks at OB/GYN, so I had missed 'em.
In both messages, he said that the "hot spot" was something that, according to the radiology people, looked consistent with a dermoid cyst. They'd seen it six months prior, on my first PET, but given that we were busy with other stuff, had elected to advise a wait-and-follow approach. The thing, whatever it is, is unchanged in size and uptake from the last scan, but it's still there. Given that dermoid cysts (those are the weird things with teeth and hair in 'em) can burst and cause peritonitis and so on, the Radiology Guys figured a diagnostic u/s would be a great idea. I agree with that, so I'll be prodded with a wand tomorrow.
I just love incidental findings.
So, yeah. My head, by the way, is fine. My neck and chest both look lovely. My belly, aside from the fact that I have Animal from the Muppet Show on my ovary, is pristine. My adrenal glands were a little overactive, but as Dr. Crane said, that's to be expected on a follow-up scan for cancer.
Teeth and hair. On my ovary.
This explains why I've had the compulsion to floss my Fallopian tubes.
14 comments:
What the fuck are they going to find on you next !~!~! Floss a Fallopian, why not?
I really want to ask if you could take it home as a pet, but that would be insensitive. Stout heart on the morrow. Will be asking the universe to be kind.
Through the years, I've had problems with occasional small (R) ovarian cysts, which have spontaneously ruptured, causing *mucho* pain; (and which sometimes initially brought the possibility of appendicitis to my mind, too.)
As I've gotten older, my ovarian cyst formation has greatly decreased, thank God; but now----on ultrasound----since my (R) ovary has been so "stretched-out" by all of those damn cysts through the years, it looks like a............ jalapeno pepper!! Now, when I eat Jalapeno Poppers, I sometimes just THINK OF my............ poor deformed ovary, (haha)!!
However, my doin' that can't even begin to hold a candle to your havin' the compulsion to............ *FLOSS* *YOUR* *FALLOPIAN* *TUBES*, (hahahahaha)!!
Seriously, though, I hope your 2:00 PM diagnostic u/s tomorrow is............ nuthin', Jo.
Those last three sentences are simultaneously the best and worst thing I have read on a blog. Ever.
my dermoid cyst is named ursula. i blame her for a lot of things - it's quite convenient, actually.
If I didn't have a test in six hours, I would fire up Flash Studio and animate the hell out of this.
I do, though, so all you get is some quick photochop hackery. (It ain't 'cause I don't got mad love for ya.)
Deiter the Dermoid Cyst. I'm getting the urge to knit booties. Or maybe a mouthguard.
Hahaha, brilliant blog post. Not so brilliant about the cysts. All the best with the next steps.
And so, they saw this six months ago, and decided to just watch it - WITHOUT informing you?
Aside from the unnecessary upset you went through today, I would have thought the patient just might have had the right to be informed. Not cool imo
Hope everything turns out fine, and it is just something you get to name.
Tracy2
Good luck , young lady , all the best .
I screamed incoherently for you. Just because.
Nothing like a pet that's always with you.
So, were they planning on telling you about it if they had found something else at the original surgical sight? Very frustrating, knowing that they might be hiding stuff from you.
Methinks when we call people less than a year out of a dx of Cap'n "Lumpy" Bastard and use the term "hot spot" we have our cross-informational ducks in a row - dunno maybe it's just me . .sorry for you,Jo you had to cope with the ensuing engulfment in fight or flight juice-which pisses me off - bad form as the people who wear really weird hats to weddings would say.
Teratoma Talk always fascinates me! So much that I sought out and looked at the 2008 case of a newborn - the one w/ the foot, intestines and partially formed hands in his brain? Good golly but that one-ups even the weirdest dermoid cyst!
I'm still quaking from crapping myself this morning over this.
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