absolutely nothing...say it again...WAR! Sorry...couldn't help myself! Spoke with the doctor's nurse this morning and as of now, we are in watch the mass grow mode. I feel like my head should be a clear glass dome so everyone can get a look! If it grows quickly, then we'll discuss Delta team extraction methods, but otherwise, watch the enemy and report to headquarters any activity...do not engage, repeat, do not engage!
I go back to the neuro in March and we'll see what he says then (plus, I'm taking Delta team leader Am in to light a fire under the general's arse so that extraction can occur sooner rather than later...there might have to be a black op mission in my future!).
The mass more than likely has been there most of my life and has just now decided that it is time to grow up and be a big-boy meningioma, so I though it should have a big-boy meningioma name, Ferg-id Quinn, after the three doctors at work that have caused me the most stress - they most likely are the ones injecting Ferg-id with his steroid shots...Ferg and id daily!
Besides, Ferg-id has opened up a whole new line of jokes! I've spent most of the day rambling on about the battle between Ferg-id and Clan Blair (that's me since I'm Scottish)...the big bad meningioma attacking the little (ok, big) Highland girl inside her protective fortress (that being my head)! Ferg-id may be winning this battle, but he won't win the war! You don't mess with a Scottish lass!
On the med front, wow, are the new ones scary! People have gone to rehab for less than what I'm carrying in my purse! I'm scared to take them! I don't see the point in medicating me to the point of near death, while I still sit around waiting for the next headache (which is just around the corner), constantly have a completely numb face and mouth, periodically loose vision in my left eye, and now I'm starting to loose feeling in my limbs during headaches, when all could be fixed with just some quick sword-play by a surgeon! I absolutely REFUSE to get the point where I'm having seizures before they do anything! There are few things in life I'm scared of medical wise, seizures are one of them! I spend most of my time alone which is bad for seizure sufferers and, although I'm not scared of dying, I don't want to be found like that (of course I would be worried about how I would look to the cute paramedics carrying me off to the morgue, after that point I'm not too worried, since I'm in the pathology business, it's all family from there...but then again, the real Ferg and Id will get their peek-a-boo's in...hmm, nope, not too thrilled about that either).
On a good note though (there is one?), T is taking me out this weekend for dinner and shopping (to buy a certain Brit an American care package that I've been promising!), so maybe Ferg-id will not puff up this weekend and ruin things like he has been lately!
DOWN WITH THE FERG-ID! LONG LIVE CLAN BLAIR!
I go back to the neuro in March and we'll see what he says then (plus, I'm taking Delta team leader Am in to light a fire under the general's arse so that extraction can occur sooner rather than later...there might have to be a black op mission in my future!).
The mass more than likely has been there most of my life and has just now decided that it is time to grow up and be a big-boy meningioma, so I though it should have a big-boy meningioma name, Ferg-id Quinn, after the three doctors at work that have caused me the most stress - they most likely are the ones injecting Ferg-id with his steroid shots...Ferg and id daily!
Besides, Ferg-id has opened up a whole new line of jokes! I've spent most of the day rambling on about the battle between Ferg-id and Clan Blair (that's me since I'm Scottish)...the big bad meningioma attacking the little (ok, big) Highland girl inside her protective fortress (that being my head)! Ferg-id may be winning this battle, but he won't win the war! You don't mess with a Scottish lass!
On the med front, wow, are the new ones scary! People have gone to rehab for less than what I'm carrying in my purse! I'm scared to take them! I don't see the point in medicating me to the point of near death, while I still sit around waiting for the next headache (which is just around the corner), constantly have a completely numb face and mouth, periodically loose vision in my left eye, and now I'm starting to loose feeling in my limbs during headaches, when all could be fixed with just some quick sword-play by a surgeon! I absolutely REFUSE to get the point where I'm having seizures before they do anything! There are few things in life I'm scared of medical wise, seizures are one of them! I spend most of my time alone which is bad for seizure sufferers and, although I'm not scared of dying, I don't want to be found like that (of course I would be worried about how I would look to the cute paramedics carrying me off to the morgue, after that point I'm not too worried, since I'm in the pathology business, it's all family from there...but then again, the real Ferg and Id will get their peek-a-boo's in...hmm, nope, not too thrilled about that either).
On a good note though (there is one?), T is taking me out this weekend for dinner and shopping (to buy a certain Brit an American care package that I've been promising!), so maybe Ferg-id will not puff up this weekend and ruin things like he has been lately!
DOWN WITH THE FERG-ID! LONG LIVE CLAN BLAIR!
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