Bulldozer00's Blog

A few weeks ago I noticed an abrupt deterioration in my ability to steer and stabilize my right leg. Since the leg has been devolving steadily (but relatively slowly) ever since I was diagnosed with metastases to the brain, I was alarmed at suddenly waking up to my extra–numb, tight-as-a-drum, painful and crampy leg. It may be tough to imagine, but please believe me when I say that you can have both a painful AND numb leg at the same time. The pain comes from frequent pop-up cramps (where muscles get so tight the ligaments feel like they’re detaching from bone) up and down the entire leg/foot whereas the numbness comes from a loss of tactile feeling and control.

After dueling with competing thoughts on whether to walk around the block or not, I decided to give it a go since one of my goals is to do the daily waddle until the fit hits the shan. When I embarked on the journey, I detected my leg getting more numb and heavy with just about every step. I felt like I was playing darts, just randomly throwing my leg out in front of me on each step and hoping it would land close to where I intended it to go. It got to the point where I had to turn around and hastily go back home. I was concerned (um, I was actually scared) that my leg might go completely jello, buckle beneath me, and leave me stranded on the side of the road calling out for help like the “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!” lady.

When I made it back home safely, another frightful thought (there’s never just one scary thought, it’s always a cancerous cluster) came to mind: perhaps the brain tumor camping out on the motor strip that controls my right leg started growing, or, in cancer-speak, progressing, again. After the now-familiar wave of “uh oh, the descent has finally commenced and I’m on my way out” terror washed over me, I hastily checked to see when my next brain MRI was scheduled for. When I saw that it was almost a month away I decided to call my neurosurgeon and ask about moving it up. To my great relief, he accommodated my request. I had the scan done last week and the result showed no tumor progression. Hallelujer!

Since the shackled tumor isn’t the cause of the encroaching electro-mechanical deterioration, my neurosurgeon and oncologist both think it may be long term cumulative nerve damage due to the multiple cyberknife radiation hits I absorbed. The toxic nuclear bombardment may be melting away the myelin sheathing that protects nerves from external threats. Yuk, and D’oh!

Every time the ever-vigilant Emperor Of All Maladies detects he’s losing thought-share and being nudged out of mind, the evil bastid reasserts himself and takes back his rightful place at the front of the line with jolting thoughts of despair and death. At this point in my 5 year tango with the devil’s disciple, the psychological battle has become more taxing than the physical battle. I just hope I don’t have to add anymore chemicals to my gabapentin, klonopin, lamotrigine, and weed regimen. With all that shite sloshing around upstairs it’s amazing I can even think at all. The only thing I remember about my former life as a C++ programmer is that this compiles: void main(){}