"Sometimes You're the Doctor, Sometimes You're the Patient."

Squeezing into the MRI dungeon, I mean tube, never gets any easier. Although I will admit being crammed inside without 10000000 extra pillows and towels to support my arm and shoulder, do make it more endurable. I have now successfully completed two full scans without needing to be drugged. To me this is both a huge win, but also a huge miracle. The thought of again being squished into a sardine can causes a ridiculous amount of anxiety, so the fact I have made it twice in a row without heavy medications seems unreal. After the scans, I have now been blessed to have three additional months before I need to worry about treatment (Chemo and radiation), or about being jammed into the tube again. I just completed my six- month scans and tests, and for now at least everything is status quo, the tumor is unchanged since my three-month scans in October. This is both a blessing and a miserable reality of what is ahead. My oncologist admitted how little is known about the type of tumor, other than it reacts well to aggressive treatments. However, he was also quick to remind me the reality, the tumor is treatable not curable. Even after treatment, we are only resetting the clock and preventing a surgery. With that in mind he was so impressed with the improvements and drive I have to work through therapy he decided it is worth the chance there may be a change within the next three months, and allowed me to focus on therapy. He began doing the wellness check and started to check my reflexes. He checked everything on my left side. As he moved to the right side I just laughed and said now is the fun side. He also laughed and said, “That’s the reason I’m staying over here and reaching across, I don’t want to get kicked.” As he said that he tapped my knee, it flew wildly. “See why I stay over here.” My next appointment was with my neurologist. He quickly checked my tiara (surgical incision site) and quickly looked at the MRI images. “Dr. xxxxx said that you have gained some function with your arm, let me see! Can you lift your arm? (He bent his elbow and raised it toward his nose). I complied and rose my arm to my face and kept going. I was able to slowly raise my arm straight over my head. He shook his head and plopped down on the chair. “Sometimes you are the doctor and sometimes you are the student.” He said, still shaking his head. “I don’t even know what to say. I am sitting here learning from you, I needed this.” He sat and asked how everything was progressing, continually shaking his head. He asked about general motor function and spasms. I was able to show him how much fine motor function I was gaining, by touching each finger to thumb carefully. He sat and laughed, “I honestly don’t know what to say.” We joked about the different mishaps and surprises that have occurred along the way, from the infection to the paralysis. He again asked how therapy was progressing and what I intended to accomplish. I told him my short-term goal was to be able to baptize my son in March. He smiled and said, “that is a great goal to start.” I strongly feel that is the reason I am not starting treatments right away. So that I will be able to baptize my son. Had that not been coming up so soon, I think my direction would be different at this time. This again is another tender mercy and blessing from a loving Father in Heaven. He is constantly aware of our thoughts and desires. He is always willing to bless our righteous aspirations and wants us to find joy. -Nate Taylor