There’s a CD with MRI scans sitting on my desk—sealed and unopened. Today, it’s been exactly a week. The results that will tell what is happening in my head. Is my acoustic neuroma—a tumor also known as a vestibular schwannoma— “moving” in any direction or just chilling in there? That paper envelope, more precisely the CD it contains, holds the data that will ground me—in a good way or a bad way—I don’t know yet. I’m afraid to look at it! It feels like I’m in the middle of a cosmic coin toss, frozen just before the flip lands. If I don’t look, there’s still a chance that my protocol—my disciplined and borderline-religious way of life—might be working. That the tumor is shrinking. Or even just staying still. If I do look, that possibility might vanish. It’s like Schrödinger’s cat, but instead of a box, it’s an MRI viewer. Instead of a cat, it’s my faith. Well, if by any chance a thought already came into your mind like, “ Fool, he thinks he can reverse it just by eating some m...
Finally, the big mystery is revealed —the diagnosis is in: vestibular schwannoma, also known as acoustic neuroma. A lovely, not-so-small tumor in my head. And that’s how I finally found out... My appointment for the MRI was on December 23rd (2024). Because I chose the first available slot, I had to make a compromise—I had to drive an hour and a half to get there. Well, of course, my girlfriend didn’t allow me to drive because of my symptoms. So, all thanks to her, she drove us there. The MRI scan went really well. The personnel gave me headphones with calming music, I laid down on the MRI bed, and through the small mirror in the head frame, I could see a television playing relaxing videos of nature. That wasn’t my first encounter with an MRI procedure, so I knew what to expect. The MRI scan was done without contrast dye (as my doctor stated in his referral) and was completed in something like 15 to 20 minutes. This MRI provider had a great system for delivering medical images. Not ...