Today was the first time I’ve seen a brain doctor since January. I’m sure that doesn’t seem like an especially long time because, well, it’s not, but it has felt like an eternity, especially considering how much pain I’ve encountered since the last appointment.

They had conveniently scheduled an MRI for 12:30 (check in at noon) before my 1:30 appointment with the doctor. The scan would be immediately available to the doctor, no waiting. I appreciated this on a special level because that hospital? Almost 50 miles from my house. And saving me a trip is pretty much my favorite thing ever.

When I checked in, my information was there, but within a few minutes, the front desk realized there was a problem. I had an appointment, but they had no doctor’s orders. And then when they called the doctor, they couldn’t remember scheduling the MRI. Nothing like looking like the crazy MRI seeker in public.

After the doctor’s office faxed in the orders they finally remembered creating, the guy at the front desk lost them. And seriously, could not figure out where they went. He looked and looked and looked. They were no where. There’s just something really comforting about knowing that a piece of paper with all your personal and medical information is floating around a hospital. I mean really.

After all the hullaballoo, the MRI didn’t start until after 1. Which meant I had a snowball’s chance in hell of making my appointment on time. Which, really is fine, I haven’t been on time to anything in the last year anyways.

And then there was the scan itself. You remember that one time where I said I’m not going to have MRIs without sedating myself first? Yea, well, I didn’t until 10 minutes into the MRI. Oops. I was actually doing totally fine until she said that it was time for the “really loud” one, but what she neglected to mention was that the really loud one also bounces you around like you’re an kitten in a clothes dryer. Dear God.

And for whatever reason, the bouncing all around caused my brain to go totally fucking haywire.

I got hit with a wave of dizziness that rivals any I’ve ever had before. When the loud scan finally ended, the dizziness slowed. But as soon as the dizziness stopped, my eyes lost their shit and for the next 10 minutes my eyes danced from side to side, completely out of control (it’s called nystagmus and unfortunately is not a really new thing). They continued to wiggle back and forth through the gadolinium injection and all the way until the end of the last scan.

I walked out of the imaging center around 1:45 and made it to the office by 1:55. They agreed to see me late, which I was incredibly grateful for.

Despite a lengthy wait, the doctor hadn’t had much time to review my actual MRIs, but in the little time he had, he was able to identify pachymeningeal enhancements on my scan. Having done excessive amounts of research on the screwed upness that is my brain, I knew what he was talking about (sort of). It’s basically another nice objective sign that my body is dealing with low intracranial pressure and it’s a brand spanking new one.

And because of that and my ever decreasing pressure, he thinks that the problem really has to be a spinal fluid leak. Frankly, there just isn’t any alternative cause.

But the great part is that with this diagnosis, comes treatment. TREATMENT. He gave me two choices, but because of the cost and complications and time factors, only one option was really feasible.

Later this week, I’ll be having two high volume blood patches. They’ll do one down low in my spine and one a little higher, in an attempt to basically coat my entire spinal column (with blooooood) and clot holes that could be anywhere along it. He said that sadly they won’t double the Versed for the doubled patching. Tragic, really.

I’m more than a little scared, because, well, these blood patches hurt like a sonofabitch. But at the same time, I can’t even begin to tell you how nice it is to hear a doctor say that he thinks a treatment will work. It’s been a really long time since anyone has said that to me.

Probably since the last neurosurgeon prepared me for brain surgery. Hello, irony.

And I believe him. I believe that we’re looking at the first real possibility of relief. I think we have a plan that just might be the first thing in 7 months that will make a difference. The first thing that can give me even a piece of my version of normal back.

And for now we just wait, and hope.

And try not to spend much time dwelling on the irony that it’s going to take two REALLY BIG NEEDLES in my back to make me feel better.

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