Chapter 133: Out, damned spot!

(My writing never ever uses AI. This photo certainly does!)

“Out, dammed spot” has been playing on repeat in my mind the past few weeks.

Fortunately, unlike poor Lady Macbeth, I don’t have blood on my hands, but I do have a spot to worry about. (Macbeth is my very favorite tragedy. What an epic story. Witches and murder and revenge and psychosis. It truly has it all!)

My recent brain MRI, which I get every four months for monitoring, had an annoying new spot. This may be nothing of concern or it may mean changing everything about life as I know it. That seems overly dramatic, but it’s how it feels.

I’ve had the good fortune of stable scans for the past 4+ years. I live with the knowledge that this will not always be the case. The average prognosis for a grade 3 IDH-mutant anaplastic astrocytoma (say that five times fast) is anywhere from 2-12+ years. Clinical trials are leading to better outcomes. Or rather, they are trying to, if only the government would allow some of that UFC cage money to fund brain tumor clinical research again…

I’m lucky to have some positive genetic markers that may give me more progression- free survival time. I’ve already had five great years and I’m thankful for them all. Can’t worry about the later, or it will really ruin the moments I have now.

My new spot might be a blip of radiation damage. Radiation, part of the initial treatment package, can continue to hurt surrounding tissue for decades after treatment. It’s like a never-ending BOGO. Fun!

If not radiation damage, Spot might be new tumor. Spot, as I’m naming it, might also be a little bit of guacamole as I went pretty hard on my last few taco nights.

Either way, Spot gives me the good fortune of retuning to the dreaded MRI machine in two months to recheck it.

After six years of this incurable disease nonsense, it’s not atypical for me to live with a sense of unease and uncertainty, but I was liking the nice four month routine that had lulled me into a sense of false security.

In a way, Spot has been a good reminder. Spot made me question if I’m truly living the bucket list life I write about. Spot is making me think more about my priorities, how I use my energy, and how much I really need to worry about things I cannot control.

The day Spot was found, Brock and I had already booked a flight to Iceland. We’re hoping the week spent in the hot springs may have worked some healing magic. Highly recommend Sky Lagoon- it was incredible.

If not, then I’m sure our upcoming trips to Italy will dolce vita dang Spot right out of there.

To me, travel is medicine. I’ve recently started an exciting solo travel advisory business to help others with cancer, chronic illness, typical or atypical abilities travel the world. Yes, I still work in medicine. Yes, I still teach and write and speak and fundraise. No, I don’t relax well.

Full blog about the new business coming soon. For now, check out  https://www.lotuswellnesstravel.com to see what I’m up to. Spot can’t stop me.

Don’t let your Spot, whatever that may be, stop you either. Out, damned Spot, we say! And with that, we live another uncertain and glorious day.

Fondly,

Courtney

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