Testing it was.

Despite of my lengthy considerations at the last entry, I finally decided to have another MRI.

To cut this short to the relevant facts: it came out good!!! "No significant changes since the last examination"

Surprisingly, I did not walk the valley of shadows again (mentally speaking), I stayed relatively cool. Did I just get used to it? Or maybe it was the thought: If it had come back, I would notice from emerging defects: increasing forgetfulness, irritability. But talking about especially about those two potential "symptoms": These are soft markers and everybody with a good amount of hypochondric talent can create those in a minute. That's the general problem with brain-related problems: they are hard-if not impossible- to objectively grab. OK, you can make the usual tests, (Touch the tip of your nose with the right or left index finger) the patients among the readers will of course know them all. I do these from time to time.And I constantly watch out for any unexplained muscle twiching on the left, weakness of the left arm or leg, just anything unusual.
So, you will ask: why did you decide to do it? The answer may sound strange and a bit pathetic:

I wanted to make sure, that my girlfriend, who is still living on the Westcoast, if she would finally move to Germany, that I am in good enough shape that it is worthwhile for her moving in with me. At least from the best of my knowledge.  I know this sounds pretentious, but I swear to God, this was going on in my head. OK, maybe it was just the trigger I put forth for a conflict than needed to be resolved. But as things came out good I am happy I did it. I have to say, despite the fear before the procedure, it DOES feel SO GOOD afterwards, but to get a new setpoint for what it feels like to still be OK, and to have something to compare myself to (set my self -examination to zero). Its all good.

I am still a long-term-survivor: 6.5 years and counting!!!! Old age, here I come!!!

Testing or not testing?

Sorry for me being quiet lately. Just not much novelties to report. This is an entry about trying to decide on a question  only a long-term survivor can have the luxury to ponder. I had my last MRI a year ago. actually, more than a year ago. November 2009 to be exact. Now its February 2011. The big question in my mind is: am I neglecting my disease by not getting examined? The issues coming to mind: MRI imaging is not a treatment, it will give me a heads up, should something come back. But then. Something coming back. inevitably means: bad prognosis. Recurring Glioma is pretty much a death sentence. Well, technically, Glioma is a death sentence. And so far I beat it. Here my question: what would I do, if an MRI would show, it came back? Have another surgery? I was incredible lucky to have such a devoted and talented surgeon like Dr Liau at UCLA. My life is almost normal, I am doing science (actually: just writing a paper) again and everything looking as good as one could imagine. Another surgery almost certainly would mean serious defects from the removal of additional brain tissue. Would I do it? Thank God this is a hypothetical question. Many would say: you are cured, you beat it for good, you can relax now and move on with your life. But if there are others in my situation, you may know what I am talking about: Being diagnosed with malignant cancer once and for all destroys this primordial trust in ones body. I am still scared to consider myself "healed". As if there was some magical bad spell in letting the guards dow. I WANT to stay aware, that bad things may happen again anytime. Just hoping that this awareness may be a magic to keep IT away.
I keep on drinking my magic Amazon tea "Cha Una de Gato". But I will not do an MRI anymore. It doesn't help, since even a good result does not mean it will last. I will just have faith&trust that I will live  and not die from brain tumor anymore.

Maybe I should write a book about my time with incurable cancer. Diagnosis December 2004 Surgery February 2005, now february 2011, "rebirth-day" is only three days away (Feb 7th 2005) my "second birthday". Six years. And I was told: "a year, maybe a year and a half"
People out there, I am still here! Maybe I made it long enough to call myself "cured", but I am still afraid. And will be so forever. A price I am happy to pay for being still here. Life is too wonderful a gift, to not accept a price for it.