Sometimes I do like to say that ignorance is truly bliss in life. I found out something very interesting about myself throughout this process… I don’t enjoy not knowing. You see, I knew the things that were or weren’t happening to me. I was going to school and being educated on all of the terrible things that could be decimating my body from within. It made everything even that much worse, not knowing. At least before I knew what I was being dealt in life, now it was an open canvas.

I met with many doctors the first couple of days we were all down in Rochester. If you’ve been keeping up with the story, we had two things to look into. The mysterious big spleen and the odd persisting choking feeling. Tests, upon tests, upon tests, upon tests, and then did I mention a few more tests. Blood tests, vocal-chord tests, endoscopy’s (thankfully that end), and so much more. Side note, one of the coolest/scariest-at-the-same-time things that I ever experienced was going into the Ears Nose and Throat specialists office for the choking sensation and them telling me theyd like to take a gander down my nose to check on my vocal folds. I agreed right away, thinking “that would be sweet to come back at a different time and have them look down my nose while I was sedated”. NOPE. Lady whipped this briefcase out in the room right away and shoved a scope down my nose after getting some lidocaine to the region. I sat there making a ton of nerdy jokes while I awaited my probing in my nose by this nice and attractive young doctor. I was very red in the face when I read in the report later that she liked my jokes! Like I said, side note. Vocal-chords looked fine.

All blood tests were coming back semi-normal, with the exception of liver enzymes being on the fritz. The GI doctors were terrified that my liver was feeling the effects of having a large spleen. Something that both hematology and gastrointestinal departments both wanted was a MRI scan of my abdominal region and my throat to see what was possibly causing this choking sensation and to hopefully understand the status of my liver and spleen. The hematologist assured me that I was probably not going to have to see him after the scan because we pretty much ruled out any blood cancers. I was intensely nervous about the MRI… I wanted to be sedated but the only person available at the time to drive me from the appointment was my younger brother Josh who wasn’t old enough. So I went in, sobriety and all. They strapped so many electrodes and bands around me to check what was going on. The liver elasticity test was very interesting, needing to shake-weight my stomach for minutes at a time in the MRI scanning bay. Despite my claustrophobia, I made it through the scan with a radiologist tech who sounded like Garfield the cat unscathed. Now the wait for all of these test results to come back.

Not very much made my anxiety less intense during these days, I was very split in my feelings. First in my skull was the intense/exciting internship and new journey I was about to embark on at the Mayo Clinic. That brought with it so many feelings on its own being a semi-new place, I tried to think about the excitement part more than anything. But secondly, my health still truly was bringing me down. When I think about this part of my journey, I would have to say that Pink Floyd’s song Comfortably Numb fit my feelings. I was being overwhelmed with the bad and good all at the same time, I was just terrified I wouldn’t be around to enjoy any of it. Death, like Steve Jobs said, is quite the motivator. You have this one life and so many things to do in it, and you have so little time.

I got a call from my hematologist. He wanted to see me and my dad in person and refused to tell me any information over the phone, which I learned is never a good sign. These doctors want to be able to talk you through situations. I understood, even though it was extremely frustrating and filled with anticipation. He told me that they found a large blood clot in my spleen, cutting off the main arterial flow from the liver to a large chunk of my spleen. All of that pain that I felt at college that one day was caused by that clot and part of my organ dying slowly. Luckily, my body adapted and developed new lines for the blood to move through around this clot. Now the hematologist was extremely concerned. I had a clot, but so far no reason why. I could tell he was nervous. Everyone around me was nervous. He sent me off for more blood tests, all coming back negative. More tests after that and then a wait. Just as a precaution they started having me see a therapy counselor to start pre-death counseling. This involved learning to cope with dying, and filling out advanced directives. I was so happy that the clinic had found out what was in my spleen, but when you are an anomaly at one of the best healthcare facilities in the world, it’s never a good sign.

Sorry to do this to you… But you’ll never guess what call I got from him next. Another adventure on the horizon. Stay tuned…

Thank you all so much from the bottom of my heart for all of your support!

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