Friday, 30 October 2015

Well, right. Now, then. We'll see.

So, the bubblegum dustbunny will always grow back and requires constant supervision to ensure its aggressiveness is not increasing by, for example, a sudden burst of spazzy growth, or growth in a direction that is not into the void of the cavity it originally left, or that it isn't throwing an angiogenetic leave-your-keys-in-the-salad-bowl party.

My most recent MR images do show a bit of new growth that is not particularly remarkable and doesn't suggest anything to panic about. However, the growth merits new treatment in the near future, perhaps a combination of strategic attacks this time. Its not certain yet. I've been referred back to my surgeon for his opinion on the matter, so once again my life is in his hands. Just figuratively, for now. They are small, smooth little hands.

It is with a sharp curl of lip that I take and have always taken such news, with a little shrug, a head tilt, a nod, then a series of consecutive nods to indicate that I'm annoyed, helpless, disappointed, but not surprised, not about to faint, and keen to get straight on to a course of action. Hope/less. Nothing to do but wait.  Fuck this shit.

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