"Patient has a small AVM in the brain" Part IV

I demand an addenda to the radiologist's report, and call him for several days until he finally breaks and returns my call at 8pm. It's a war of attrition, and frankly, I have come too far to just surrender now. For his part, he is apologetic and very nice on the phone, though I still think the first report was unforgivably inadequate and unprofessional. It would seem like precision of language would be key in this situation, and that the specialized skills of the radiologist, and the mandate that he and he alone interpret the images, would result in a less laissez-faire assessment. I ask him to bring up the films on his computer while I have him on the phone, and he tells me that the nidus of AVM has shrunken to 9mm by 4mm. This is a reduction of about 50%. My anger towards the radiologist is replaced by gratitude, and relief begins to settle in. About thirty seconds after I hang up I realize that this means that I still have an AVM. That nothing reduces risk except obliteration. That risk is cumulative. That I am getting closer to that 'average age of first bleed' statistic. That I have begun another year exactly were I started the last. When I told my husband that the AVM had shrunk, I actually broke down and started sobbing in the middle of our kitchen. It was hard to explain how I could feel both so happy and so devastated at the same time. More than anything, there was just this overwhelming wave of exhaustion. Tears of joy never tasted saltier.

"Patient has a small AVM in the brain" Part II

So, I rush home, the roads are covered in snow, it's almost midnight, and the pre-MRI xanax had long worn off. The first thing I did when I got home was load the CD in my computer, I don't think I even shut the front door. I click through 43 images and then, there it is. The AVM who I have only seen in pictures, but could recognize instantly. I open a beer. I feel like I am trying to interpret a home pregnancy test: 'is it a little shadowier? Are my eyes playing tricks on me? Should I get another MRI, just to be sure? Did this thing even work?' The next day, I call the hospital and my doctor to ask if the radiologist has made a report yet. I do the same thing the next day. And the next. Then there was the long 'holiday' weekend. (Cue festive music and joyous...um, despair.) On Tuesday, I get the radiologist on the phone. He wants to do another MRI. (Repeat from beginning).