I couldn't be more relieved: Peatey is going to be a lifelong freeloader in my little brain (or for at least another year!)
Thursday morning I went to the hospital, changed into my fancy hospital gown, and laid in a tube for an hour as an MRI machine and its giant magnets went round and round and round. The first 20 minutes consisted of me laying there, still as a statue. The second 20, they injected a dye into my body through an IV in my arm. The dye made this terrible metal taste in my mouth and made me just a little sick to my stomach, so all I could focus on was not puking. Or moving. Because I didn't want to go through this again.
If there weren't enough to be anxious about, I had nothing to think about but absolute stillness. (And besides that, I had a terrible itch on my cheek that I couldn't scratch).
One long hour after the MRI, I had the shortest doctor's appointment I ever could have imagined. My neurologist walked in and said simply: "It hasn't grown in 6 months. See you in a year."
I just looked at him, ASTONISHED. And blurted out, "That's it?"
In his oh-so-calm demeanor, he's said yes. It (Peatey) is not growing. So, odds are that he won't grow. But we'll check in in another year and every year after that to be sure.
So who would have thought? It turns out it's true: There is such a thing as a "No Big Deal" kind of brain tumor. And I have it! I almost feel... lucky?
Now, I'm off to buy a lottery ticket.
Just not sure about these double robes... At least no one saw my butt!
