Tag Archives: liver

Forgetting A Medical Miracle Anniversary (or It’s Nice That This Isn’t Something I Think About)

I completely forgot to celebrate the anniversary of my not needing to have liver surgery! I’m usually pretty good about remembering dates and anniversaries, even the weird ones, and somehow this one just slipped my mind. I know it’s not something that I have to remember every year, and with my liver, there are a few different dates that are milestones. But I usually seem to remember to celebrate mid-April when I found out the tumors were shrinking and when I was supposed to have surgery but didn’t need it. I don’t always celebrate on the same date, but April 20th is when the surgery was supposed to be so that date usually sticks in my head.

I’m not too upset that I forgot to celebrate this. I do like to celebrate how awesome it is that this all worked out this way for me, but it’s also nice that it’s not something that dominates my mind anymore. From when I found out about the tumors until the surgery was canceled, this really was a huge focus of my life. I tried to not always think about it, but it’s hard not to when you are preparing for a major surgery and staying in the hospital for an unknown amount of time. Even just planning things out with my parents and where I’d be recovering took a lot of time and organization. And after we found out the tumors were shrinking, I still thought about the tumors a lot because I was always worried that my next scan would show that they grew or something else was wrong.

When I had my last liver MRI, which was exactly 5 years to the day since the first one, the tumors didn’t show any growth or change and my liver surgeon agreed that I no longer need to be monitored. I will always probably have at least one of the tumors (only one is visible but the other two might still be there but too small to be seen), but they are no longer a health risk for me. And since I don’t have to be monitored, I’m not really thinking about it anymore. I don’t have to be scared that something will happen because of how big the tumors are or the various risks that I was warned about when they were found.

This is different from how things are with my hip. I’m frequently reminded of the pain and the fact that I still need surgeries in the future. I can’t ignore that this is still an ongoing health issue for me. I guess the tumors can be considered an ongoing health issue as well, but it’s not something I have to confront on a regular basis. I’m not ignoring the fact that I have them, so I’m still not really drinking since that can stress my liver and I won’t go back on hormonal birth control since that would likely make the tumors grow again. There are a few things in my future that might require me to be monitored again, but they aren’t things that I need to worry about or that would happen unexpectedly.

And the more I’m removed from thinking that I need to have surgery, the more likely it will be that I forgot to remember about it. I’ve had so many random health things I’ve had to deal with over the years, and it’s not a bad thing to not always remember all of them. And yes, celebrating something awesome like not needing surgery is good. But not having to spend time thinking about a stressful time in my life is probably better.

5 Year Anniversary Of Being A Medical Miracle (or Somehow This Feels Like The Last Big Milestone)

5 years ago today, I was supposed to have my liver surgery. Because I seem to be a medical miracle and my tumors shrank, the surgery was pushed off. I think originally we thought that we would see what size they would stabilize at and then plan for the surgery. Obviously, the smaller the tumors are, the easier the surgery would be. And because of how my tumors are stuck in my liver, the smaller the tumors would be when I had surgery, the more of my liver I could keep. I know livers are weird and can regenerate, but it’s always better to not have to regenerate as much. Originally, I think we were thinking that I would lose 20-30% of my liver in the surgery. But if the tumors shrank and I only had to lose 10%, that would be a much easier recovery for me.

Even with how much the tumors shrank within the first 6 months, I never expected that the surgery would be completely put off. But every time I went in for my MRIs, the tumors seemed to get smaller and smaller. And at one of my last in-person appointments with my liver surgeon, we discussed that my situation was now where they wouldn’t recommend surgery for me. The tumors were small enough that they were no longer as life-threatening (although there are still things that could happen that would be more dangerous for me than for others because of them). And the placement of the tumors would actually be harder to remove than when they were at the biggest size. It would be more of an issue to remove them than to leave them there. So the plan was that I would do one more MRI and as long as they didn’t grow I wouldn’t have to worry about them anymore.

My last MRI got pushed off by a year because of the pandemic. But it worked out just fine because at my last appointment my surgeon said I could do the next MRI in 1 year or 2, so I was still following the recommendations he gave to me. And as I wrote in my post after the MRI, the tumors were the same size they were 2 years prior. Of the 3 tumors I had originally, only 1 could be seen and it was 10% of the original size. I didn’t even have an in-person follow-up with my surgeon after the results. He let me know the tumors were stable and that I no longer needed to be monitored.

My last MRI was 5 years to the day from my first MRI, and that made the 5-year mark feel extra special. And since today marks 5 years since I didn’t need surgery, it somehow feels like the end too. I won’t have future MRIs to check on things (unless things take a drastic turn) so I won’t be celebrating the tumors shrinking or being stable. And I know I can continue to celebrate each year that passes after I didn’t have to have surgery, but there’s something about knowing I had the last MRI that makes this non-surgery anniversary feel like it’s the last one too. Then again, I still celebrate how many years have passed since my hip surgery, so there’s a good chance I’ll continue to celebrate this too.

And maybe this feels a bit like the end because I’m moving away from the place I was living the entire time I dealt with the tumor saga. I had a similar feeling when I moved away from the apartment I lived in during the time I had my hip surgery, but it wasn’t as strong. But my hip issues continue to this day versus the tumors which really don’t have to be something I think about all the time.

Whether or not I continue to celebrate this medical miracle anniversary, I love knowing that I’m 5 years past the date that I was supposed to have major surgery. And while for a few years after it was a little stressful not having the surgery and still being worried about the tumors, I’m still grateful I didn’t have to go through that and I have been told by my surgeon that I can move on and not think about this anymore.

I Guess This Is The End Of This Journey (or 5 Years Later)

A little over 5 years ago, I had what I believed was the worst gallbladder attack of my life. I was sure that’s what I had since it had a lot of the same symptoms as the other attacks I’ve had. But this one was lasting hours and not going away when in the past it would maybe only last an hour or two. I was up all night in pain and went to the hospital that morning sure that they were going to wheel me into the OR to have my gallbladder removed. But it turned out it wasn’t a gallbladder attack (it’s still not really known what happened to me), but that day at the hospital we discovered what was believed to be a cyst on my liver.

After more medical testing, we learned that I had 3 tumors and my journey from needing surgery to being a medical miracle started. Honestly, nothing has been what I expected and I’ve tried to roll with the punches as much as I could. But it’s been tough. A friend of mine described the feeling I dealt with perfectly, body betrayal. I felt betrayed when I found out I had tumors because I had no clue that something so crazy was happening in my body. And I felt betrayed when they shrank because again I had no clue this was happening. Of course, I was grateful they shrank and I could avoid surgery, but the disconnect I had with my body was a struggle.

And for the past few years, I’ve had MRIs to check my liver and make sure that my tumors weren’t growing. I’m very lucky that they actually continued to shrink. And at my last MRI, you could only see 1 of the 3 original tumors. And that tumor was 10% of its original size. I was supposed to have an MRI last year and if my tumors were still the same that would be the last one. Because of the pandemic, I didn’t go last year (which was ok with my liver surgeon). And this year, when I was at my annual well-woman appointment, I mentioned to my doctor that this year I’d do one more MRI and maybe that would be the last. Fortunately, she was able to order the MRI for me so that was a lot easier to schedule. And this past weekend, I had my MRI.

I didn’t realize this at the time, but this MRI was 5 years to the day from the original MRI (when we discovered that it wasn’t a cyst but a tumor). I’ve had enough MRIs at this point to know the routine. I also know that usually there is a bit of a wait, so I come prepared with a book and other things to keep me busy. But I don’t know if it’s because this was on a weekend or if things are still slower than normal, but for this MRI I didn’t even go to the waiting room! As soon as I was done checking in, I was brought back to the MRI room. Just like every other MRI, it wasn’t that fun. I also had double claustrophobia because of the MRI tube and wearing a mask. I managed to not have a horrible panic attack, but I had a couple of little ones during the scan. I just tried to take deep breaths (when I didn’t have to hold my breath) and I tilted my head back to be able to look into the room behind me.

From the time I checked in until I was heading out was only about an hour. This was by far the fastest MRI I had. I didn’t even get a fun pre-MRI photo like I normally do. But I took one after it was done so I could add it to my collection of photos.

I normally have a follow-up with my liver surgeon after my MRI to go over the results. I might have the follow-up over the phone this time, but I also might not have the usual follow-up since a different doctor ordered the test. But I did already get my results back.

I know it’s a lot of doctor-speak, but basically this says that there is only 1 tumor visible in my life and it’s 1cm. This is exactly what it looked like 2 years ago and what I know my liver surgeon was hoping for. He told me it would be very unlikely for the last tumor to be completely gone since it was so large to begin with. But staying the same for 2 years is really the best outcome. I also had a few other things in my results (I still have gallstones and there is a small benign cyst on my kidney), but for the most part, everything else is either completely normal or exactly what it’s been like for a while.

This is a bit anti-climatic, but I guess this is probably the end of my journey with my liver tumor. If I have a follow-up call with my surgeon, I guess he will probably confirm that. But he did say the last time I saw him that as long as my tumors aren’t bigger than they were before, I won’t need another MRI. Of course, there are a few things that can happen in the future that could change this (if I use anything with synthetic hormones, I probably will need to be monitored again). But unless that comes up or if I have any odd symptoms, I will probably just live the rest of my life with this small tumor left in my liver hanging out.

The last 5 years have been crazy with my liver tumors. I’m just glad that it seems like this is finally a part of my past and I don’t have to be too worried about them anymore.

Almost Missing My Tumor Anniversary (or This Seems Like A Lifetime Ago)

On Monday, I was talking to my mom about something random (I honestly don’t remember what our conversation was about) and something made me think of my liver tumors and being a medical miracle. And then it hit me. On the 20th, it was the anniversary of me not having surgery! My medical miracle anniversary date is a weird one to figure out since it occurred over multiple days. But in my head, I usually think of the date I was supposed to have surgery as the official date marker. And for some reason, I just didn’t think about it happening this week.

This isn’t the first time I forgot an anniversary regarding my tumors. But I think remembering my surgery date is easier than the date I was diagnosed since it’s a date that sticks out much more in my memory. The date I found out about the tumors was not something I expected to have happened. The surgery date was something I prepared for and had in my calendar. But either way, sometimes it’s nice to know that I don’t have to think about my tumors as much as I used to.

So as of yesterday, it marked 4 years since I didn’t have to have surgery. Thinking about the surgery now is kind of a funny thing. There were a lot of things that made me worry about the surgery, but one of the ones that sticks out in my memory is how worried I was about having to miss Orangetheory for a month or two. I knew it would be ok and I’d figure out how to get back into my workouts, but the idea of not being at my regular workouts for a few weeks really worried me. Of course, now I’ve spent 13 months away from Orangetheory. I have continued my workouts which is something I couldn’t have done if I had surgery, but it is interesting to realize that concern isn’t as bad as I imagined it would be. If I had surgery, I know I would have gotten back to my workouts now. I have enough faith and belief in myself to not let something take away my workout motivation.

4 years ago, before I knew that my tumors shrank, I had no clue that I was going to be a medical miracle. My doctor had no idea it would happen since this is not what normally happens with these tumors. But it did and it’s been nice to see how my tumors have shrunk over time.

At my last check-in, they were so small that my doctor thought I might only need 1 more MRI and check in. That MRI was supposed to be this past October, but because of the pandemic, I decided to wait on it. It’s not urgent for me to get the MRI and originally I wasn’t supposed to have one this past October but wait until this October instead. So after confirming it was ok to wait, I did just that. And my plan is to probably have another MRI around October this year (I need to check in with my liver surgeon to confirm it can be scheduled since the original order was to go last year).

I do hope that when I go in for the next MRI, the one remaining tumor that can be seen will be so small that it’s gone from the scan as well. My other tumors have done that and the only one remaining is the one that was the largest to start with. Since my other tumors have disappeared, I have every hope that this one will as well. It was so small at my last scan that it was almost as close to gone as you can be.

Thinking back to my last MRI, it seems like this occurred so long ago. Yes, it’s been about a year and a half since my last MRI and over 4 years since I learned I had these tumors. So it has been quite a while ago. And knowing I don’t have to be as worried about the tumors as I was before is good for my mental health, especially in a year when we’ve all had so many things stressing us out.

Hopefully, whenever I am able to get my next MRI, I will be celebrating that it will be the last (unless anything crazy happens in my life). These tumors will always be a part of my medical history and something I have to be aware of for future medical decisions, but I’m ready for them to be fully a part of my past. And 4 years after being a medical miracle, I’m almost to that point.

3 Years Of Being A Medical Miracle (or Just Enjoying Being Healthy)

I’ve said before how the date of when I became a medical miracle is a bit hard for me to determine. I’m not sure if I should consider the day I had the MRI that showed my tumors were shrinking as the day. Or maybe the day one of my doctors emailed me to say that it looked like the tumors were shrinking. Or when my liver surgeon called me to tell me for sure that my tumors were shrinking and that he recommended I cancel my surgery. So even though the date isn’t really a date that I got any information, I have considered the date that my surgery was supposed to happen as the marker for being a medical miracle. And yesterday, it marked 3 years since I was supposed to have surgery.

I don’t necessarily do anything to celebrate being a medical miracle, but I do acknowledge it and take time to remember how lucky I am. I know that if my tumors didn’t shrink, surgery was necessary. My tumors were big enough that they could be life-threatening. Not having surgery would have been a very dumb choice. But even though I knew that I needed that surgery, I wasn’t looking forward to it and I was scared about so much. I’m so glad that I didn’t have to have that surgery or deal with the recovery. I haven’t had abdominal surgery before, but I imagine the recovery would be worse than it was for my hip surgery. And there would other things during recovery that would have been tough for me.

One of the things about recovery that scared me was not being able to go to Orangetheory. I was worried that I would lose all momentum that I had been building in my workouts and that I would be so far back when I finally could work out again. Of course, right now I technically have no way to go to my workouts. I am working out at home, but it’s not the same. So it’s a bit funny that something that I was so worried about is a reality that I am dealing with right now. But I am lucky that there are OTF at Home workouts that I could do and that wouldn’t have been an option if I did have surgery.

I was worried about what the surgery might do for my mental health. I didn’t share this too much, but I was worried that having a big scar might make my body dysmorphia worse or that something about having surgery would trigger my panic/anxiety disorder or even my eating disorder. Surgery is a big unknown so there isn’t a way to know how you would react to it. I was hoping that surgery wouldn’t affect my mental health, but it was a big concern that I had about it.

And I was also worried that the surgery wouldn’t be the only one I needed. I knew that I might need another surgery in the future to get rid of one of the tumors if they couldn’t get all of them in one surgery. And I had been told that they could take my gallbladder out when doing the surgery, but I worried that something would happen where they couldn’t and I would need that surgery at another time. I’m actually very lucky when it comes to my gallbladder because it turns out that many of the issues I was having with it was related to the tumors and their size, so even though I didn’t have surgery I have had very few attacks in the past 3 years. I technically still need it out, but it’s not as necessary as it was before.

I am grateful every day that I didn’t have to have surgery. I’m grateful that I didn’t have to go through what could have been a big change in my life. I didn’t have to deal with as many unknowns (even though I do still deal with some unknowns now regarding my tumors). I was able to keep living my life as normal without a disruption. But even though I am grateful every day, I am always extra grateful when it’s my medical miracle anniversary. It’s been 3 years since I have known that my tumors are shrinking and there is still no medical explanation for it. But I feel so lucky that it happened to me.

I am supposed to have another MRI in about 6 months, and if the tumors continue to shrink, that will be my last one scheduled. I might have them every couple of years, but I won’t need annual ones any more if they are smaller. And if by some chance they grow, I will have surgery and I will be ok if that happens. But for now, I’m just focused on being grateful for what happened to me.

A Quick MRI Turnaround (or At Least I Have Some Answers)

I know I just wrote about getting my MRI yesterday, but the actual scan was last week on Thursday. Typically, I have my scan and then within a week, I have my followup appointment with my liver surgeon. Occasionally, I will get my MRI results sent to me a bit sooner by one of my doctors, but I don’t expect to have answers until I have my appointment.

This time, when I was scheduling my MRI, I was told my liver surgeon was on vacation for 2 weeks after my scan. So the soonest I could get my followup appointment would be the week of Thanksgiving. While I didn’t love having a big gap between the scan and the followup, I didn’t really have an option unless I wanted to do the MRI later. So I booked those appointment times and tried not to think about it too much. Even though my scans always show the tumors smaller, I do worry a bit that for some reason they will be growing again. But I know that the chances of that happening are really tiny, especially with my history.

So after my scan was done last week, I tried to not think about the results at all. I knew that it wasn’t going to be anything horrible even if I was told that they were growing again. The worst case would be that they were growing and that I would have the surgery that I had planned for originally. And I’ve already put so much thought into that surgery so I wasn’t as scared about it as I was before.

I got a notification on Monday evening that I had a message from a doctor to read. I thought maybe it was one of my other doctors seeing the MRI report and just forwarding it to me. I wasn’t expecting my liver surgeon to be sending a message since I knew he was out of the office. But that’s exactly who emailed me with a really amazing message.

I will still be going in for my appointment in about a week and a half, but it’s so good to have some information now. I can think about other things and not have moments of wondering what is going on. And honestly, these results are so much better than what I expected them to be!

I knew that 1 of the 3 tumors was already so small that they basically couldn’t be found, but it was nice to have confirmation that it still is not seen anymore. I had it in my head that maybe the last time they missed it for one reason or another. At my last scan, I knew that the medium tumor had shrunk a tiny bit, but it was still visible. Now it has disappeared like the small one did before.

But to me, the best news was about the biggest tumor. That was the one that made things so dangerous for me when it was discovered. The placement and size of it both were risky. And that has been shrinking quite a bit. The biggest change was the scan I had right before I was supposed to have surgery when it went from 10cm to 4cm. And it’s slowly been getting smaller since then. Each year it has pretty much gone down another 1cm. The milestone I knew it needed to be under was 3cm, and 1 year after we discovered the tumors it had gotten there. And it just keeps going down.

Now, my biggest tumor (which I always say was the size of a newborn’s head even if that’s overestimating it a bit), is not smaller than the smallest one was when we discovered it. It’s no longer dangerous for me to have this tumor in my body (even though that has technically been the case for a little while now). The tumor is 90% smaller than it was just 3 years ago! That’s a huge reduction.

There are still a few things I’m going to go over with my surgeon when I see him, plus I want to see pictures of the tumor now. But from his message to me, I know I have nothing to worry about. I do have some questions about what things might trigger the tumors to grow again and what monitoring I will need to do under those circumstances, but none of those things should be happening soon for me. So it’s more that I just want an idea of what I’ll need to do in the future.

I think I’ll officially believe this news when I see the images since it’s hard for me to believe that it’s really going this well for me. But I’m so grateful that my luck with my health has gotten better and that I’m able to relax about things a bit more now.

Another Liver MRI (or Not As Routine As Always)

As I mentioned last week, I did my blood work to prep for my liver MRI. Even though I’ve only been doing liver MRIs for about 3 years, I’ve done enough of them that I’m used to the process and it doesn’t necessarily scare me anymore. There are elements of it that I don’t look forward to and am a bit fearful of, but I know that I can get through it and that I’ll be fine. I’ve learned different things I can do to help when I’m having a tough moment during the MRI and I’ve managed to be ok every time.

I know the hospital tries to keep things on schedule, but I’m aware that emergencies and other issues can come up that will push back the time of my scan. I schedule my MRIs when I have nothing else I have to get to that day so if I’m stuck there for a while it will be ok. So when I went for my scan this time, I was prepared to sit for a while and had my Kindle fully charged and loaded up with a new library book.

But there was someone in the waiting room who didn’t seem to know the common rules for waiting room etiquette. They started playing their music through their phone speakers and not using headphones. This was already starting to irritate me and I was trying to not let it affect me. I didn’t want to ask them to turn off the music because I didn’t know if anyone else in the waiting room was bothered by it. And then things got a bit more irritating when they started to sing along with their music. I was getting really close to the limit of my patience when I was called back for my MRI. I was so glad to get out of there and almost looked forward to the MRI to escape the noise in the waiting room.

When I got into the MRI room, I got changed into a gown since you can’t wear your clothes in there. They used to allow you to wear your clothes if they didn’t have metal, but the rules changed. Maybe someone claimed they weren’t wearing any metal but they had a button or something. But I don’t mind changing into the gowns. It’s not a big deal plus it gives me a chance for a good photo.

When I got onto the MRI table, the nurses got everything ready for my IV. I gave them the same warnings I give to everyone and I’m glad that it didn’t go too bad. I had a little bit of a blackout when the IV went in, but I was back to my normal self almost instantaneously. They taped down the IV tubes to get ready to have the long tubing attached and I was joking with the nurses about how I can feel when they flush it with saline and how it tastes like permanent markers smell. I think they thought that was pretty funny.

The way I am positioned for the MRIs requires me to have my arms above my head. In the hand that is on the arm with the IV, I have the tubing for the IV around my fingers since they have to go toward the other side of the room. And in my hand on the other side, I have the panic button in case something happens when I’m inside. I’ve never used the panic button, but I appreciate it. Everything was set the way it needed to be and they moved the table into the machine to get the scans started.

But as soon as I got into the machine, I noticed two things. First, my nose started itching like crazy and I couldn’t do anything about it. I really wanted to scratch, but there was no way to bring my hands to my face. So I just had to suck it up and try to ignore it. And the other thing I noticed was the IV in my arm was hurting me. It’s a hard type of pain to explain, but in my head, it felt like the needle was moving and wasn’t in the right spot. I know it didn’t move, but it was pinching and irritating my arm. I didn’t want to press the panic button for either issue because I knew I could tolerate it and I didn’t want to delay the MRI.

The first part of the scan is without the contrast dye. You listen to the prompts from the MRI machine and it tells you when to hold your breath or when you can breathe normally. When you have to hold your breath, it’s usually between 15-25 seconds. And I have to say that 25 seconds feels like forever and I’m always trying to find a way to make the time go by faster. I usually try to count the seconds in my head or count each of the noises the machine makes. I can’t always make it for 25 seconds, but I’ve gotten better each time I have to do it.

Before they remotely injected the contrast dye, there was a moment that I almost had a panic attack. Maybe I don’t remember the past MRIs properly, but I don’t remember the other scans having a long break randomly in the middle. So when things stopped this time, I thought at first that maybe it was when they were injecting the dye. But I didn’t feel the dye going into my arm and the techs hadn’t warned me that it was coming. Because of how I’m positioned in the machine, I can tilt my head far enough back that I can see the ceiling of the room behind me. I don’t know why that calms me down, but it does. I had a moment of panic that maybe there was some sort of emergency and I was stuck in the machine alone, but I tried not to think about that. And finally, the machine started making noise again so I knew everything was fine.

After the dye was injected, they pulled me out of the machine so they could remove the IV since I don’t need it for the last few scans. And when they did that, I was finally able to scratch my nose. It has never felt better to be able to scratch an itch. And I knew at that point that I only had a few more scans left and I was almost done. When those scans were done, I was pulled out of the machine so I could get dressed and head home.

When I was leaving, the techs that were in the control room area complimented me on being able to hold my breath as long as I did and for being really still. I guess all the images came out really clear, but I don’t think any of my past ones were really bad. I just know of one image once that had to be redone because I shifted in the middle of it. But normally I think they are fine.

And when I was walking past the waiting room (because you have to pass it to leave), that one person in the waiting room still had their music going and they were singing along! I feel so bad for anyone in the waiting room that wasn’t ok with the noise, but I also feel so grateful that I didn’t have to deal with it for too long.

I won’t see my liver surgeon for about 2 weeks, so I won’t have an official update until then. But I have no reason to think that my tumors aren’t continuing to shrink and that I’ll get a good report and update.

MRI Prep Work (or Vampire Victim and Nerves)

I’ve got my liver MRI coming up this week. I haven’t had an MRI in a year, and I’m glad that I decided to do one this year. My liver surgeon gave me the option of waiting 2 years instead of 1 after my last appointment, but I think that would have been too long to wait. I’m still wondering what is going on with my tumors and I couldn’t imagine how I’d feel if I still had to wait another year before I found out.

I’m trying to not be nervous about the MRI, but I can’t help it. I still am scared that for some reason my tumors will be bigger. I know that it’s a really tiny chance that could happen, but I know that I’m also the person who gets the 1 in a million situations. I’m nervous about the MRI itself. I know I’ve done so many of these by now, but they still aren’t routine for me yet. I have been very lucky that my claustrophobic hasn’t been an issue while in the MRI machine. I think it helps that I can tilt my head back and see the room behind me. If I was in head first, I think that would be much worse. I’m nervous about getting the IV as well. I hate needles and that is always something I struggle with.

But I did get one of the needles out of the way last week. Before getting an MRI where they use contrast, you have to get bloodwork done. Because of the contrast they use, they have to make sure that your kidneys can filter it out of your body. I’ve never had kidney issues (although I have been told that I have a small cyst on one kidney, that’s never been discussed more with me other than telling me it’s there), so I know that I shouldn’t worry when I get my kidneys checked before my MRI. But I do worry because you never know when things will change. And of course, because it’s bloodwork, I have the needle to worry about.

I decided to do my pre-MRI bloodwork on Halloween this year. I happened to have that afternoon free so the timing was good. Plus, I was able to make the joke that my costume was a vampire victim. I know that the needles don’t leave a huge mark, but I do usually have a bruise when it’s done.

The last time I had bloodwork, there was a huge line and a long wait from when I checked in until I was seen. That time it was also worse because I was nauseous that day. This time, I was feeling good so I wasn’t dealing with nausea. And when I checked in, I barely had enough time to take a photo of my number before I was called to one of the stations.

Since it was only one thing they were checking with the blood, they only had to collect one vial. I warned the nurse like I warn anyone putting a needle in my skin about my issues with them. I let her know I might pass out or get very tense but that it was ok and she didn’t have to call anyone to take me to urgent care or the ER. I think the warning freaked her out a bit, but I know when I don’t warn the nurses that things are worse. Even though the nurse decided not to warn me about when she was going to stick me, I did ok. I did have the blacking out/tensing up moment that I’m used to, but it wasn’t as bad as it’s been before. And only a few minutes after I got to the hospital, I was already on my way out.

I’ve been trying to not think too much about the MRI this week, but it’s hard not to. For some reason, it seems like I get another thing from the hospital every day to prepare me. I have gotten appointment reminders, text alerts, and paperwork with what to expect during an MRI. I didn’t review that paperwork since I’ve done this before and I know I still have to fill out a form confirming I know all this information when I go in for the MRI. I won’t find out for a while about the tumors due to when I could get an appointment, so I know the time between the scan and my appointment will also be nerve-racking. But soon I’ll be past this and hopefully, everything will either be the same or better and I won’t have to worry about it again for at least another year.

3 Years Knowing About The Tumors (or I Forgot An Anniversary)

I am always telling my friends that I love my blog for many reasons, but one reason is that it reminds me of when things happened. I can look up a blog post and get an idea of when something happened. But I only see that when I look something up. But social media can remind people of things too when it tells you what memories come up. And the other day, the memory photo that came up was from my Disneyland outing right after I found out there was something wrong with my liver (before I knew they were tumors). So I realized that my tumor anniversary was around now.

I don’t know what date to consider my tumor anniversary because there are so many options. Is it when I was at the hospital and found out something was in my liver? Is it when I found out that I had a tumor? Is it when I found out the type of tumor it was? I honestly don’t know which day to acknowledge (similar to how my medical miracle anniversary is potentially multiple days). But I do know that about 3 years ago, I was in the middle of a crazy medical journey of discovering I had tumors and making a game plan about what to do with them.

And when I saw those first images of my biggest tumor, I was so shocked. It did mess with my head because I was having issues feeling disconnected to my body, but I tried to not think about that too much. I knew the risks I was facing with this tumor being in my body and made sure I wasn’t doing anything that added to that risk. And I looked at that first photo hundreds of times because I couldn’t believe that something that big was in my body that shouldn’t be there.

The months between discovering the tumors and discovering they shrunk were also crazy for me. I was dealing with the idea of having these tumors and making preparations to have major surgery to get rid of them. My focus was on that surgery and doing anything I could to get ready for it. When the surgery didn’t happen, that also threw me off a bit and I had to deal with those feelings.

3 years later, I still have the tumors in my liver. But they are all significantly smaller than they were when they were discovered. I will be doing my next MRI soon so we can confirm they are still shrinking. I have no reason to believe that they wouldn’t be. If they stay the same size, then I have to go over a few other options with my liver surgeon. But I don’t think surgery will really be discussed much at that appointment. I’ve already discussed when he would think surgery would be an option and it’s mainly if the tumors start growing again. And if I’m going to have gallbladder surgery (which is something I expect to have in my future), then my surgeon said we can combine the surgeries so I can have my gallbladder removed along with the largest tumor. But I’m hopeful that the tumors have continued to shrink and that will be the news I get in a month.

Like with so many things in my life, it seems like yesterday and a million years ago that I discovered I had these tumors. I’m glad that I don’t think about them all the time as I did right when I learned about them. I do think about them each day when I do some visualization, but that’s only a few seconds a day. Besides those moments, I usually don’t think about them unless I’m telling someone the crazy story of me and my tumors. And it is a fun and crazy story to share.

I’m glad I had a reminder on social media that this is about the time that I discovered the tumors. It’s nice to be able to reflect back on it and think about what has happened in the past 3 years. So much has changed in my life and there is also a lot that has stayed the same. But I think the changes outweigh any stagnation in my life and it’s nice to think about the positive improvements I’ve gone through.

A Non-Surgery Anniversary (or Another Year Of Being A Medical Miracle)

Tomorrow will be the 2 year anniversary of when I didn’t have surgery. I know that sentence sounds really weird, but that’s exactly what it is. 2 years ago tomorrow, I was supposed to be having some of my liver tumors removed along with a portion of my liver. But because by some miracle my tumors decided to shrink on their own, that surgery didn’t happen. And I feel like that is something to celebrate!

I’ve had some things to work through mentally with all this. When my surgery was canceled, I didn’t know how to feel because this was something I had been preparing for and all of a sudden it wasn’t happening. Some people thought I was acting disappointed that I didn’t have surgery, but that’s not it. It was just an overwhelming feeling of confusion and a disconnection with things. I’ve gotten over that feeling as I have been able to identify it, but it’s still a bit of a weird spot for me.

I do also still have a little fear when I have another MRI because I don’t want to discover my tumors have decided to grow again. My next scan isn’t for another 6 months, but I’m already a little nervous because of the gallbladder attack I had recently. My surgeon and I have discussed that it’s possible my attacks stopped when my liver stopped being distorted by the tumors. That’s not something we know for sure, but it’s something we have thought is possible. So to know I just had another attack does make me a bit fearful that maybe that means my tumors are growing and making my liver misshapen again. There’s no point in me worrying about it right now, but I know that I won’t get the idea out of my head until after my next scan.

Even though I do have some weird feelings about the non-surgery anniversary, I have way more feelings that are positive about it. I wasn’t necessarily looking forward to the surgery even though I knew I needed it because I didn’t want to have to deal with the recovery. It would have been a very tough and potentially long recovery and I didn’t need that in my life. While your liver does regenerate so I would eventually have had a full sized liver again, during the time that it’s regrowing there are a lot of other issues that can come up. Leading up to when I was supposed to have surgery I was trying to stay optimistic about what side effects I might have, but I was also realistic. I’m so grateful I didn’t have to find out what would happen.

From the time I discovered I have liver tumors to the time my surgery was canceled was a pretty hectic time. It all happened in under 6 months and there was so much we had to do in that time to get my life prepared for such a major surgery. Once I had that out of the way, I was able to focus on things I enjoyed in my life again. I feel like this really was a turning point in my life to stop putting things off and to really work on finding what I want to do and not what I have to do. This is still something I am working on, but I know that the past 2 years have been filled with much more enjoyable stuff than the several years prior to discovering the tumors. I don’t want to say that this experience made me re-evaluate my life or make me have a new outlook on how I was spending my life, but I guess that’s kind of what it was.

I think this year celebrating not having surgery is a bit different from last year. I’m still excited about recognizing how amazing and incredible my body was to be able to shrink the tumors. But the focus this time seems to be less about not having surgery and more about the new start point of things. I don’t split my life up as before surgery and after not having surgery or anything, but I do see not having surgery as a fresh start of figuring some things out about myself. I’m not 100% where I want to be or who I want to be, but I’m significantly closer now than I was before.

I’m sure eventually one day I won’t be celebrating the non-surgery anniversary anymore, but for now I still feel like it is something to celebrate and acknowledge. It’s a big part of my recent history and has been something that changed the plan of my life. I feel like that’s important to remember.