Results Are In

No brain surgery. For now. Back to regularly scheduled programming...

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It is a scary world out there:

Victoria's Secret Sued Over Thong Incident (Copyright, AOL, 6-18-2008)

A 52-year-old California woman is suing lingerie giant Victoria's Secret, claiming that a "design flaw" on a pair of V-string panties caused her to suffer an eye injury. According to court documents, Macrida Patterson says that a decorative metallic object flew off of a thong she was trying, causing permanent cornea damage, after striking her in the eye. It's the latest lawsuit involving the lingerie maker this year.

Sick

Just heard back from neurosurgeon at University of Pittsburgh. He thinks maybe "meningioma" and "maybe biopsy or surgery." More later.

Anatomy Lesson

We spent part of Father's Day outdoors. My son and I share the same constitution. Our skin requires paba-free SPF 250 from 6 am to midnight and we have environmental allergies to most things - trees, pollen, nuts, cats, dogs, mold - basically any item one might encounter in nature. Except German cockroaches. I kid you not. When I asked the allergy tech why they test for German cockroaches, and not the good old American version, she replied as though I had posed the most intriguing question ever about the Secret of the Universe, "I have NO idea! Nobody has ever asked me that before!"

This is all background to my main point. We arrive home after dangerous and reckless exposure to a non-hermetically sealed environment. I notice Ethan has a few small raised bumps on his chest, maybe hives, possibly an allergic reaction to something or other. But not German cockroaches. I tell Jeff that after Ethan's bath, we should give him a dose of Benadryl.

Ethan whines: "I don't need any Benadryl!" He hates the taste.

Me: "You do. You have red bumps on your chest and I don't know what they are from."

Ethan replies in a tone that I have only heard used by teenagers to convey the message that their parents are the dumbest people to ever be permitted to breathe oxygen.

"Mommy ... EVERYONE has red bumps on their chest. LOOK ..." pulling up Jeff's shirt to triumphantly illustrate his point, "SEE! Even daddy has them. They are called knuckles."

Where All The Magic Happens

How I spent my weekend. Extra credit if you can figure out what is not supposed to be there.

Clarification

Recently several friends have inquired as to whether I planned on "having my boobs done." I was confused. At first I thought it was some sort of secret conspiracy regarding the state of my cleavage and was insecure. I wondered if once you reached a certain age, sorority by-laws required all former members to have reconstructive work on their feminine wiles, but I was not aware of this fact because I had skipped those parts of the sorority meetings in college since I was too busy making out with R or M or F .... or G ... or T ... to attend. And then, it was pointed out to me that I indicated in a prior post that I would be "off to buy boobs."

To be clear: I was helping a friend pick out some slip-on enhancements, so to speak, for an oddly-configured bridesmaids dress. Sorry to disappoint (that is a shout out directly, to you, Dear Husband). If I do end up needing surgery in the future, however, I will be sure to see if I can get some sort of package deal on the brain/boob thing. Because all men know the two are correlated. Absent that development, no plans to upgrade what nature intended and has served me well (enough) for 20-some years.

Zen

One would imagine that with the big drama cropping up my recent life, I would be all zen and whatever about life's minor annoyances. Well, I am not. I just gave a 90-year old woman the finger while driving to the office. Yes, THAT finger; the significant one. Please don't judge me! She totally deserved it for cutting me off and for being so ... wrinkly. While I do have many fine attributes, being calm and low-key, even under normal circumstances, is not something I excel at. If I were a dog, I would be a poodle. I know stress is bad for you and have tried remedies ... yoga ... deep breathing ... meditation ... but they all end up stressing me out more because I am so unnerved by trying to sit and quiet my mind. Just a little background to understand how this weekend has pushed me to the brink.

Exhibit A: Thursday. Evacuated to work stairwell because of tornado. While hiding in the stairwell, a giant branch falls on my car. Which could be worse, my parents' house had an entire giant tree fall on it. I make the mistake of telling Jeff this fact in front of our (neurotic) son. During more storms later that night, Ethan is panicked that "a tree will crush our house." I assure him not to worry, this is what insurance is for so if a tree DOES crush our house, we can get a BETTER house and all new toys.

Exhibit B: Early Friday. Our bank account numbers are stolen and mysteriously used, even though we still have the cards. We are forced to close all accounts and order new cards. In the meantime, we have no forms of currency (I just bummed $20 from my mom, which at the age of 32, is simply embarrassing). Jeff recognizes that a $400 charge to the account is fraudulent, not because I would hesitate to spend $400 in one store -- that is elementary shopping; at this point in my life, I have earned a retail doctorate -- but because the charge was made at some low-rent store that Jeff realizes I would not have entered on my own volition.

Exhibit C: Late Friday. Bad news: Our AC unit breaks. Good News: The record heat wave is only supposed to spike temps to 100 degrees this weekend, as opposed to some places of the US where it will reach 115 degrees, such as the Death Valley desert.

Exhibit D: Sunday: Unable to withstand the face-melting heat at our house for one more second, Ethan and I evacuate to my parents' place (now, complete with one full roof). Ethan spends the night kicking me in the head because there is only one small bed in the guestroom and we have to share. Also, he snores. Jeff stays put at our house because there is only one bed in the guestroom. Plus he is too stubborn to admit defeat and concede that the heat has won.

Exhibit E: Early Monday. I got about 3 hours of sleep last night (see head-kicking). In addition to dark circles, I awoke this fine morning to find that my eyes had swollen into little slits due to my recently discovered cat allergy. Jeff and I "donated" our kitties, Sadie and Felix, to my parents when an infant Ethan developed an allergy to cats. Now, I am the one who cannot be around them without feeling like I am suffocating and turning into one big itchy hive. So I am distressed to see Felix sleeping on the "stuff" Jeff brought over last night for Ethan and I. On closer inspection, I see that my bag of "stuff" contains no make-up, toothbrush or shoes. However, he did bring me something to wear to work: a hot pink lace bra and a sheer white shirt. Um? Because he thinks that I now work at an escort service? So in lieu of wearing ridiculously inappropriate clothing to work, I am currently wearing my mom's leopard-print dress. She has 'normal' black pants, but she is five-four and I am five-eight, so they looked absurd. And while the dress sounds bad on paper, did I mention that it also has big fuchsia hibiscus flowers all over it? No, I did not. So you see? Much better! At least it deters from the hot pink bra.

Exhibit F: Still early Monday. Attempt to drop Ethan off at summer camp/preschool. One of their AC units blew also, but only in one part of the building, so I do not feel too bad about leaving him there while I FLEE to the glorious glorious air of my cold cold office. Except it took me an hour to leave, because he is hot and tired, and judging from all the resultant kicking and screaming, also possessed by Satan.

Exhibit G: Monday, again. Phone call. AC guy can fix our unit (hee, unit!) for the bargain price of $1,500. In two weeks. OR ... we can buy a whole new unit and have it done by Wednesday of this week - for $5,000. I offer to pay him $10,000 AND show him my boobs if he can fix it tomorrow. No dice. Apparently my boobs,while real, are not spectacular.

Exhibit H: Still Monday. Drive to work. Ms. Old Lady, please meet the acquaintance of Mr. My Finger.

Exhibit I: Monday ... for the LOVE OF GOD! Seriously, how is it STILL MONDAY?!!! Walked out of ladies room with leopard-print hibiscus dress partially tucked into my underwear. Luckily, underwear does not match the bra so I am spared the humiliation of flashing hot pink drawers. Instead, they are white and cotton and gigantic. That was one hour ago and I think my receptionist is still on the floor, laughing.

Subependynoma Versus Hamartoma?

Say that ten times fast while standing on one foot. My (lovely and caring) friends and family want to know exactly WHAT IS GOING ON with this brain stuff and what it means to me. At the risk of being a complete downer at cocktail parties and cookouts, I have eluded the topic in most social circles (how very WASPy of me). Also, I can't say most of the words. I just made my follow-up neurosurgery appointment since all this started and am now thinking about it again, so here is where things stand, today, right now:

Here is what the neurosurgeon's report (Jan 2008) says:

She has a small sub-centimeter sized lesion just at the septum pellucidum on the medial aspect of the frontal horn on the left lateral ventricle. I think she has hamartoma or a subependynoma in the front horn of the left lateral ventricle. [That explains it all. Right?]

Hamartoma (Wikipedia)

A hamartoma is a focal malformation that resembles a neoplasm in the tissue of its origin. This is not a malignant tumor, and it grows at the same rate as the surrounding tissues. It is composed of tissue elements normally found at that site, but which are growing in a disorganized mass. They occur in many different parts of the body and are most often asymptomatic and undetected unless seen on an image taken for another reason. Hamartomas result from an abnormal formation of normal tissue, although the underlying reasons for the abnormality are not fully understood. They grow along with, and at the same rate as, the organ from whose tissue they are made, and, unlike cancerous tumors, only rarely invade or compress surrounding structures significantly. Hamartomas, while generally benign, can cause problems due to their location. They may obstruct practically any organ in the body, such as the eye, the colon, etc. They are particularly likely to cause major health issues when located in the hypothalamus, spleen or kidneys. [So, short answer: Brain hamartoma is not a problem unless it gets bigger. Then it is a problem. Surgery for me, because of location of "lesion", is a big big problem.]

Ependymoma (Copyright, National Brain Tumor Foundation)

Ependymal tumors begin in the ependyma, cells that line the passageways in the brain where cerebral spinal fluid (CSF) is produced and stored. Ependymomas are classified as either supratentorial (in the cerebral hemispheres) or infratentorial (in the back of the brain). Variations of this tumor type include subependymoma, subependymal giant-cell astrocytoma, and malignant ependymoma.

Characteristics • Usually localized to one area of the brain• Develops from cells that line the hollow cavities at the bottom of the brain and the canal containing the spinal cord • Can be slow growing or fast growing • May be located in the ventricles• May block the ventricles, causing hydrocephalus (water on the brain)• Sometimes extends to the spinal cord • Occurrence peaks at age five and again at age 34• Accounts for two percent of all brain tumors. [Accounts for 2% of all brain tumors? What are the odds? I am no statistician, but I think, logically, the odds would be greater of being attacked by a shark while a meteor fell on your head as you were stuck by lightening and simultaneously shot by a terrorist .]

Symptoms • Severe headaches• Nausea and vomiting• Difficulty walking• Fatigue and sleepiness• Problems with coordination• Neck pain or stiffness• Visual problems [Dear Husband: Symptoms may also include compulsive shoe shopping at Neiman Marcus. There is no treatment for such symptoms. Palliative care is helpful, however, and after a long day of retail, resuscitative measures such as pedicures and dirty martinis should be considered.]

Treatment

The doctor will perform tests to determine if it has spread to the spinal cord. Surgery followed by radiation therapy is the usual course of treatment. A shunt may be needed to treat hydrocephalus caused by blockage of the ventricles. [Such options not offered at my favorite spa.]

Prognosis

The over-all five year survival rate is approximately 50%. Supratentorial epenedynomas, however, are generally more aggressive and have a poorer prognosis.

Studies of prognostic characteristics in ependymomas are limited by the rarity of this tumor. Most studies are reports of single-institution experiences with few patients. The Mayo Clinic (Rochester, MN) experience with 80 patients represents one of the largest single-institution reviews and was published by Schild et al. [3]. Seventy of the patients had low-grade tumors and 10 had high-grade tumors. Prognostic factors favorably associated with survival included tumor grade, location, and histologic subtype (myxopapillary vs other ependymomas). Survival did appear to be somewhat improved in patients who had more of an extensive resection, but this was not found to be significant on univariate or multivariate analysis. All of the patients in this review did receive radiation postoperatively, and the 5-year and 10-year actuarial survival rates in low-grade tumors was 87% and 79%, respectively. High-grade tumors did not fare as well with a 5-year survival rate of only 27%, with a high rate of local (80% recurrence at 5 years) and leptomeningeal (41% at 5 years) relapse. Guyotat et al. [4] reported their experience with 34 adult patients. They found that anaplasia and location dictated outcome. None of the 17 patients with anaplastic ependymoma survived 5 years, whereas 90% of patients with fourth ventricle tumors (most grade 2) were alive at 10 years, and lateral ventricle tumors had a 10-year survival rate of 60%, whereas patients with third ventricle tumors had a 35% 10-year survival rate. [F--K.]

©2008 National Brain Tumor Foundation / Call Us for Support 1.800.934.CURE

Enough medical jargon: So, I am fine? Or not?

Right now today I am fine. Hopefully, I will be fine after my next appointment. That is what I know right now. Case closed. Off to buy boobs now, but that is a post for another time ...

Lawyers = Nice

Behold and enjoy a sample form letter from a "letters for lawyers" book that I just came across:

Subject: Congratulations - Birth of Employee's Child

Dear [Insert employee name]:

Congratulations on the birth of your [insert daughter OR son OR twins]! [Insert baby's name] is fortunate to be born into the [insert employee's last name] family ... On behalf of [insert Firm name], I extend our warmest wishes to you, your [insert name of wife OR husband] and [insert baby's name].

Truly, few things rival heartfelt sentiment to make someone feel special. This form implies that lawyers not only need to be told that human beings (read: non-lawyers) send nice letters for a happy occasion, but have to be hand-fed the nice words too. I wonder why lawyers get a tough rap? In a related story, the American Bar Association has just issued a press release that lawyers should brake for people in wheelchairs crossing the street -- do not run them over, EVEN though they may be slower than the average pedestrian and allowing them to pass may cut into your billable time -- and that it is bad form to kick puppies while wearing steel-toed boots.