Thursday, May 31, 2018

Life gets real

Two large cysts on my left ovary, a separated wall, and increased vascularity. It breathes on its own.

Peeing is a trip. Initiating a stream is a feat, as is keeping it going. Toward the end I have to bear down.

I've been exhausted for weeks.

My second ca-125 blood test came back elevated. 50. The safe range is 1-35, anything above is considered a tumor marker. Results came back today and the nurse scheduled an immediate consult this afternoon at 2:30. 

I haven't told anyone. Kelli is in SLC for therapy until 4:30 p.m. I said I'd call her then. I tried to keep our phone call nonchalant. I'll have more information at that time anyway. L— is recovering from wisdom teeth extraction. B— turns 13 tomorrow. M— is in Alaska on a summer vacation with her boyfriend. E— is somewhere in Provo, hopefully neither high nor drunk. I've been overseeing his psychiatric care for three months after a diagnosis of delusional disorder, not far removed from schizophrenia. My plate floweth o'er.

My nurse practitioner hasn't been shy about using the "C" word as a possibility. The nurse I spoke to said she didn't want to get my hopes up even though she's seen elevated ca-125 results turn up nada. 

Looks like a biopsy at the very least for diagnosis sake. From there, we'll see.

I'm not sure what else to write.