When a rash or anodd-looking spotappears on our body, we tend to instinctively brush it off as nothing. But for these people, it turned out to be a sign of a severe illness that left some of them staring the Grim Reaper right in the face.What you’re about to read are responses to thisQuora question: “What was something small you went to the doctor for that turned out to be very significant?”Answers came flooding in. Some people shared the worst and most painful ways they found out they hadcanceror organ infections. Others learned they were within days of death because of a bruise on their arm.You would want to read these stories. Enjoy scrolling through.This post may includeaffiliate links.
When a rash or anodd-looking spotappears on our body, we tend to instinctively brush it off as nothing. But for these people, it turned out to be a sign of a severe illness that left some of them staring the Grim Reaper right in the face.
What you’re about to read are responses to thisQuora question: “What was something small you went to the doctor for that turned out to be very significant?”
Answers came flooding in. Some people shared the worst and most painful ways they found out they hadcanceror organ infections. Others learned they were within days of death because of a bruise on their arm.
You would want to read these stories. Enjoy scrolling through.
This post may includeaffiliate links.
A few weeks before my nineteenth birthday, I was sitting to the right of my mom. When I went to look at her, she pointed out that my left eye did not track with my right eye, which made it look like I had a lazy eye. The next day, after we had all laughed it off (because it did look quite goofy), my mom made an appointment with a neuro-opthalmologist. We went in on a busy Saturday and after he examined my eye, he requested that we make another appointment on a day when he would have more time to dedicate to me and the testing that would have to be done.About two weeks later, my mother and I went to his other office and he examined my eye. He asked me if I had experienced any double-vision recently, and I realized I had. So, he explained the possible reasons for the eye (which he diagnosed as sixth cranial nerve palsy): it was an infection, or, in very rare cases, a brain tumor. He ordered a chest x-ray, blood work, and a head MRI.The blood work and chest x-ray went well and nothing was found. Going into my MRI, my mother was optimistic, but I just had a feeling that the diagnosis was going to be bigger than a little infection. After the MRI, my mother and I got lunch and were high in spirits. When we returned home, I got to work on my classes (they were online- thanks, 2020). A few hours later, my mother ran into my room, very upset, and told me to come to the phone.My doctor was on the other end. He told me that I had a mass in my brain that was pressing against my sixth cranial nerve. He suggested that it was a very rare form of bone cancer in my brain called chordoma that had grown on my skull base, in the middle of my head. I was diagnosed two days after my nineteenth birthday.Since then, my diagnosis was confirmed and I had surgery to remove the tumor. I had many complications, like infections and brain fluid leaks, but I made it out. There was about 5–10% of the tumor left, so I underwent proton radiation therapy to kill the rest of the cancer. In a few weeks, I will have been in partial remission for a year :) I also had eye surgery about ten months ago to correct my eye, which was stuck looking inward since my first surgery. Since then, I’ve been dealing with a lot of other issues because of my tumor and treatment, like chronic nerve damage/pain, Hashimoto’s disease and hypothyroidism, but I have a wonderful team of doctors who have provided me with great treatments.I was a freshman in college when I was diagnosed, and now I’m going to be a junior. I’m studying psychology and music, and I participate in my college’s choirs, theatre productions, and student life team. In the future, I’m hoping to get my Master’s degree in mental health counseling and work as a therapist for adolescents and young adults with disabilities, rare disease, and cancer. I would also love to perform professionally in my city’s symphony orchestra/choir and maybe even audition for America’s Got Talent.I thank the Lord for all that he has done for me
RELATED:
I was 15 at the time and had noticed a lump on the side of my neck. The truth was I was 15 and thought that it was just a lump. That it was nothing. Obviously I went to the doctors who said that I was fine, I kept going back until I was referred to a local hospital where at this point another lump had grown on my neck, much larger and much more painful.I after a long time was given a biopsy and an MRI scan to find out I needed to be referred to Birmingham Children’s Hospital.this is where I found out that I had a stage 3 cancer called nasopharyngeal carcinoma. A large tumour starting in my nose moving to my neck all the way to the top of my spine. This one small lump which had grown to two over this period wasn’t just a lump. It was really serious. I started chemotherapy the next day because they just couldn’t wait any longer. my doctor said if it’d taken me another month to get diagnosed I would have been stage 4 terminal and I would have died.
Well I started feeling a little tired and noticed a rather large bruise on my right forearm. I couldn’t remember doing anything to get it, but there it was. So about a week later my husband tells me I’m getting forgetful and sends me to my doctor. My GP sends me to a Neurologist, my Neurologist sends me to an Oncologist, my Oncologist sends me to Stanford Medical Center in Palo Alto. (I had lost consciousness in the Oncologist’s office, so I have no memory of my trip from Monterey, Ca to Palo Alto).My Stanford Hematologist tells me (six months later) that I had arrived about two days from death. I had Acute Leukemia and my blood was 78% blasts (underdeveloped Red and White Blood Cells, and Not Quite Ready for Prime Time Platelets).That was the last bruise I’ll ever ignore!
My daughter who had been living with us for four years had a uti that wasnt responding to the antibiotics she was taking. She was having some back pain and feeling a little sick to her stomach. She decided to get it checked out to see if she had a kidney stone. After they did xrays and scans they found a huge cancerous mass on her kidney. The cancer had also spread to her lung, liver, spine, bladder, and uterus. She never left the hospital and died exactly 2 week later. We never had a clue. She was feeling fine until about 2 weeks before going into the hospital. We were sure it was a stone. That was in Oct. The door to her room is still closed and I have not been in there at all. I miss her terribly.
I was going to the VA for sinus infections and headaches. With the recent passing of the PACT ACT I figured I could potentially get a 30% disability rating or about a $300 monthly check. They sent me for a CT scan. I was there late on a Friday. They wouldn’t let me leave without talking too a doctor. Well all the doctors had left already. The nures walked me out. She told me schedule a mri. Not to drop everything but schedule it soon. A few weeks later I had an mri. The VA called me a week later and told me they were referring me to a neurosurgeon. I asked what for. They said I had a bone lesion. A few weeks later I went to see the neurosurgeon. I had researched bone lesions and figured he would tell me to have an mri every 6 months to keep an eye on it. Didn’t have my wife come as it was going to be a nothing appointment. I had scheduled to go checkout a car forsale afterwards.the neurosurgeon tells me I have to have surgery. I ask why. He said to remove the tumor. I am confused, how is this a brain tumor? I ask to see pictures of what he is talking about. Here is what he showed me. The tumor had eaten away my skull.Well, walking out of the hospital without losing it was the 2nd most difficult thing I have ever done. The most difficult was calling my wife and telling her. We scheduled my surgery for 3 weeks later.The VA denied my benefits for sinus issues so no money. But they did pay for the whole surgery, $150k.it has a happy ending. All good and playing volleyball and golf again. I am one lucky sob. I never had any symptoms and would have had no idea until it was too late. It was benign.
I used to bowl on a bowling league. After doing this for a few years, my left thigh started hurting about 2 inches above the knee. It only hurt after bowling 2 of the 3 games. It kept getting worse land worse. I finally went to a dr when it was hurting after only 1/2 a game. They thought maybe it was a stress fracture in my femur. X-Ray showed nothing. They said take it easy for 6 weeks and see if it heals. 6 weeks later, it was hurting so bad I couldn’t walk more than 10 min. So they ordered an MRI. That also showed nothing. The orthopedic dr said maybe it’s a hairline fracture that isn’t showing up on an X-Ray. He ordered a bone scan. For those that don’t know what a bone scan is, it’s when they starve you of sugars for a day or so, then inject radio activated sugar into you. They wait 30 min then scan your whole body. Areas that have damaged bone, will collect the particles and it shows up on the bone scan. Well there was a quarter sized circle on my thigh right where the pain was plus 2 cracked ribs from a skateboard accident a few weeks earlier. The blob wasn’t damaged bone. It was above the bone in the muscle. They said tumors show on the bone scan too. So now they knew there was a mass, but what kind? They did a biopsy and it was inconclusive. The dr said it usually means it’s not cancer if it’s inconclusive. He then said it’s better to leave it in and see if it gets better. He said the rehab would be tough because he’d have to go through the muscle to get it out. I told him it’s progressively getting worse. Let’s just remove it and I’ll deal with the rehab. He agreed and took it out. The same day of the surgery while I was in recovery he came to my room and apologized up and down for trying to talk me out of removing it and he’ll never suggest that to anyone ever again. It turned out to be Non Hodgkin’s Lymphoma cancer. Had he left it alone, it could have gotten much worse. Some chemo and radiation later, I’m 9 years cancer free.Update: well last September I fell through the ceiling in my kitchen, landing on my back. I was in the attic changing a fuse on the AC. I had just buttoned it back up, and it was finally working. I turned around and started back to the attic ladder, and my left foot slipped off the beam. I cracked 3 vertebrae and my skull. It could have been way worse. After getting all the CT, MRI, X-Ray, they determined that I was OK. About a month after I started developing a slight studder. I went to check and see if maybe they missed something in all the scans, so I got all new scans a week ago. This time they found something, but it’s unrelated to the fall. They ran me through every cancer screening known to man being a cancer survivor. They found a mass in my skull about the size of a grape. It’s in the skull behind my left eardrum. They said it’s close to the area of the brain that controls speech, hearing, and maybe short term memory. If it gets big enough it can throw off my equilibrium. Now I’m waiting again for yet another MRI of my brain to get a better look and see what they can do about it. They said that bloodwork and spinal fluid show no cancer cells, but that’s not 100% that it’s benign. They said it is accessible for surgery, but they may want to do radiation first to see if they can shrink it. They won’t do anything before the next MRI is done though. So please keep me in your prayers and I’ll post updates.
When I was a child, I lived in Germany with my mother and father. We used to travel back to the UK every so often to see my grandparents.I remember being about six years old and examining my grandmother’s gnarled, leathery-looking hands that were spotted with age. I couldn’t tear my eyes away as I wondered if my soft, pink, plump hands would ever look that freaky.Then I noticed a tiny bruise under her thumbnail. Like all children, I was worried she’d hurt herself and asked what happened. She couldn’t recall and shrugged it off as probably nothing.A few months later, we returned for another holiday. As my grandma gripped my hand, I turned hers over to see that dark purple smudge blotted beneath her thumbnail. It hadn’t gone away in months! I told my grandmother, quite seriously, that she should see a doctor. She laughed at my gravely concerned little face, but promised me she would.From then on, in every phone call and every letter, I pestered her about seeing a doctor. I can recall being both delighted and annoyed as my parents laughed behind their hands at how cute it all was. I would not drop the subject.We got a call from my grandfather not long after. My grandma was having urgent and lifesaving surgery to remove her entire thumb. That stubborn little bruise was actually an extremely vicious and malignant cancer. Luckily, she’d kept her word and seen the doctor as promised, or it’s likely she wouldn’t still be here today, 27 years later.I have no idea why I so urgently pushed her to see a doctor, as such a young child I couldn’t possibly have understood that a tiny bruise could be something so sinister. A very insistent voice inside me, that I’m still not quite sure was my own, thankfully wouldn’t let it go.
My Dad was having headaches. He thought he needed a new prescription for his glasses. But after a particularly nasty headache hit him like lightening and literally floored him, I took him to the ER. Two shots of Demerol later and Dad was still in agony. The ER doc asked me how long my Dad had been an addict and I ripped him a new one. My Dad never did drugs. The doc ordered a CT scan just to shut me up. Turned out Dad had a brain tumor. They did surgery 2 days later (they had to get the swelling down first) and gave Dad 3–6 months. He lived 6 1/2 years and lived very well. Only real side effect was he couldn’t deal with crowds or a lot of noise. He spent the time visiting everyone he loved. When he died, there was nothing left undone or unsaid.
It all started after I scratched myself on a piece of metal on my moms door. The scratch wasn’t deep… I never even bled from it.A red lump came up, which looked and itched like a mosquito bite. Over the course of 3 weeks, it evolved into a fleshy bump with a yellow center. I thought it was a boil and tried to pinch it but there was no pus in it.I knew after 3 weeks there was something wrong so I made an appointment with a dermatologist to have it biopsied. It turns out I had squamous cell skin cancer. It came up that quickly from a small scratch.
When I was 35 years old, I noticed a red splotch on my right breast after I got out of the shower one morning. I didn’t give it much thought until it didn’t go away after a few days and started swelling. I went to my doctor, and she thought that I had mastitis and prescribed an antibiotic. It still didn’t go away so she prescribed a second course. One day I did an internet search for “red spot on breast” and the first thing that came up was a webpage about inflammatory breast cancer. It was very rare, but when I read the symptoms, I knew. I went back to my doctor and she sent me to a breast specialist, who immediately scheduled a biopsy. As it turned out, I had stage 3 inflammatory breast cancer, which is an extremely aggressive and fast-spreading cancer with a 45% survival rate. That was 12 years ago, and my surgery, chemo and radiation were successful. The best advice I can offer everyone is to trust your gut and advocate for yourself.
I have a small raised red dot on my leg. Thought nothing of it. Thought it was a spot or a cut. It turns out it’s a form of skin cancer. So if you get this and it grows see your doctor
In January of 2019 I woke up on a Saturday with a pain under my ribs/ kind of like heartburn. I have awful anxiety and thought it was a panic attack so I took half a Valium and went to my daughters basketball game. After the game the pain hadn’t gone away, so I took the other half of Valium and decided I needed to sleep off the panic attack.By Monday night the pain still hadn’t gone away so I went to an urgent care after work. They told me it could be a gallbladder attack but didn’t think so because I was fine - I mean besides the pain I was fine. I wasn’t in horrific pain, probably a 4 on a scale of 10. But they said since I’ve had this pain for 3 days I should have an ultrasound of my gallbladder to make sure everything was ok in there. They didn’t seem too concerned at all. So I got in for the ultrasound on Wednesday, I drove myself, the pain still there but again, not awful, just annoying at this point. It was constant but got worse after I ate anything.Thursday the urgent care called to tell me everything on my ultrasound was normal except for a few gallstones but there weren’t any blockages. I told them I still had pain and they said I should probably go to the ER to be seen. I was at work and didn’t want to leave early so I told my coworkers and boss what the doctor had said and was trying to decide if I was going to go to the ER when I got off work. They all decided I had to go NOW. I was so upset. I was just going to sit in the ER for 4 hours and pay a $600 copay with insurance to be told I had a few gallstones and to go home.well, I went. And the doctors looked at me, had another ultrasound done, and I hear the ultrasound tech tell the doctor “I don’t know what they’re talking about, she doesn’t have any stones.” The doctor looked at the screen and started pointing everywhere, “stone, stone, huge stone, all of that that looks like sand… stones.”They told me I needed to stay overnight and have surgery the next morning and I was so upset because my 5 kids were at home with my husband. The next morning came and I had no pain. The doctor said since he had seen all the stones and already had me scheduled for surgery that morning I should just get it done before it caused problems again, and that it’s an in and out procedure, takes about 45 minutes and I’d go home right after with pain only for a few days while I healed. Ok, sure. No big deal.I wake up 4 hours later with 3 small incisions, a drain tube coming out of my abdomen and my husband sitting in a hospital room saying “you just HAD to be difficult, didn’t you?”Well, overnight in the hospital the night before my surgery, my gallbladder had ruptured. The surgeon said he had never seen a gallbladder as bad as mine. It was like I was an obese 60 year old man, eating grease for every meal and my gallbladder had been rotting inside me for YEARS, filled with HUNDREDS of stones. They said they usually check for the 3 Fs when it comes to gallbladder issues - Fat: Overweight, which I really wasn’t, but I could stand to lose a few pounds. Fertile: which I was, I had had 5 babies back to back. And Forty: over 40 years old - I had just turned 25… lol So I only met 1 of the usual criteria for gallbladder issues.I ended up having to be in the hospital for 9 days, with a bile leak from leaving the branch to where my gallbladder was without a clip. The surgeon couldn’t get to it with all the inflammation from the rupture.
Slight discomfort in the lower right side of my torso.I remember driving to work one day and I noticed a strange sensation, a twinge in the right side of my abdomen, when I’d shift my right foot from my accelerator to my brake. I made a mental note, but decided there wasn’t any reason to do anything about it at the time.One week later and I was in noticeable pain. I decided to wait another week to see the doctor as I was doing a lot of exercise at the time, including boxing, which could have explained the symptom. The doctor agreed with my decision to come after 2 weeks of pain, and initially trialed me on Irritable Bowel medication, which was a common cause for the symptoms I had. This did nothing.Two weeks later the doctor did a stool test for parasites. A parasite was identified and we treated it aggressively with antibiotics. This also did nothing.5 weeks after my initial doctor’s visit I was in constant pain, sometimes causing me to double over, I was also strangely suffering from loose stool and constipation, I’d been very tired but I’d put that down to starting full-time work and a lack of sleep.The doctor saw me again, this time he felt something was wrong during the physical exam of my abdomen. He said he wanted me to get a scan but couldn’t justify it without me getting some blood tests for food allergies first. It was a Tuesday. That afternoon I got my blood tested.On Wednesday morning my results came back, no allergies detected. Wednesday afternoon I went in for the CT scan. In the 15 minutes it took me to drive home from the scan, the radiologist had called me 3 times. They’d found something. I drove back to the Imaging facility and collected my scans and went straight on to my doctor. My doctor explained I had an ileocolic intussusception - my bowel had telescoped into itself. There was a risk of bowel obstruction, and a bowel obstruction could lead to death if not urgently treated.From Wednesday afternoon I was on a liquid diet. If I started vomiting I was to go straight to the hospital for emergency surgery. Otherwise, my surgery was booked for the Friday.The surgery on Friday went off without a hitch. The issue had been rectified, I was no longer in pain. I just had to focus on healing.The following Tuesday my surgeon came in to see me. Whilst the intussusception had been fixed there was something that had caused it, something worse. So, on that Tuesday morning, I was diagnosed with Stage III Bowel Cancer.
End of May 2018, I was experiencing really bad back pain. I have been experiencing back pain since around the age of 14/15 but this was different. I decided to make a Drs appointment, my husband knew something serious was wrong because unless pregnant, I never went to the Dr.I was told that I had a pulled muscle. I accepted that as that. A week later and it hadn’t eased up, it was getting worse. My Dr told me I probably pinched a nerve or something along with the pulled muscle and prescribed me medication. A week and a half later, it was worse and I was now having upper right quadrant pain. It was a Friday and my Dr said “I don’t know what to do for a woman with upper right quadrant pain on a Friday. Go for some blood work and if you decide, go to the ER.”I went and got blood taken and went home. I was miserable. My husband worked mid shift and fell asleep on the couch because we had gone to my appointment right after he got home at 8:30am. I was making my kids lunch and out of nowhere, threw up in my sink from the pain. I had doubled over and couldn’t straighten back out. I crawled to the couch and woke my husband up. I needed to go to the ER, something is seriously wrong.We got to the ER and waited about 30 minutes before being taken back. It took forever to get any tests started. I had blood work and peed in a cup. I knew what they would tell me before I did any of that. After being there several hours, I finally got taken back for an Ultrasound. I left my husband and 2 kids back in the room and was wheeled down. The nice man was as patient as could be. It hurt to move and hold my breath; which I had to several times. When he got to my gallbladder, he let out an audible gasp. I asked what was wrong and his words were “ma’am, how are you not screaming in pain? I have Army Rangers in here half this bad acting like babies. You’re going to need your gallbladder removed.” I was wheeled back to my room and told I’d be getting an IV put in. It took 2 guys to finally get an uncomfortable stick in the side of my wrist. They blew out a few veins. The photos I’m going to share are several days after my surgery. I finally got hooked up to fluids and pain meds. Then the ER Dr arrives saying that I have a fairly decent infection in my blood so I’ll be given another IV bag and they are trying to find somewhere to send me because I need to be under medical care and my gallbladder needs to be taken out soon but their surgeon for that at the base hospital isn’t here right now. About an hour later, they tell me I’m going Alaska Regional via Ambulance and my husband and kids could meet me there.Got to ARs ER and admitted. They redid my IV site, and retook my information because what JBER had sent was a mess. Apparently they told AR that I was pregnant (this shocked me because I knew for certain that I wasn’t). Every one there was amazing though. I’d been in the ER at JBER for like 7 hours and they knew I was tired. My husband and kids showed up just as the Surgeon did. He told me I’d get my surgery just before lunch time the next day but they wanted to let me get some sleep. They wheeled me upstairs and my family went home. That next day, I had my surgery. I had infection around my gallbladder (that was severely swollen), a stone had ripped through my bile duct, and the nurse lost count at 22 decent sized stones. I was in a lot of pain.To date, that is my only surgery, and it was a mess. But now I’m better and so thankful for decent physicians that exist in the world and am definitely more apprehensive when it comes to military Drs, I’d never received great care prior to that but the mess with my gallbladder takes the cake for me.
In the spring of 2021 when Covid was still going strong, the company I worked for noticed that I was coughing a lot. I have bad allergies and told them that is what it mostly likely was. They insisted I go and get tested just to be sure. I went to urgent care and they did a rapid Covid test which came back negative.They asked me if I had any other health issues and I told them that I had been feeling tired and got out of breath easily. I thought it was just because I was getting older. They did some blood work and it turns out my blood iron levels were only about one-fourth the level they were supposed to be, 3.4 instead of the minimum lower level of 12. I was severely anemic. They told me to go to the ER and get further checked out.I went to the VA hospital. They determined I needed blood transfusions to get my iron levels to where they need to be. They admitted me for three days over which I received three pints of blood before they were satisfied my iron levels were going in the right direction. During my stay, they did a wide variety of tests to determine why my blood iron levels were so low including my first ever colonoscopy (I was 51).When I woke up from the colonoscopy they have me the bad news; colon cancer. They took me straight to have a CT scan and after that they have me the really bad news; stage 4B colon cancer, only one stage less than the worst possible diagnosis. The coughing was due to the cancer having spread into a tumor on my lung. Stage 4B has only a 14% survival rate after five years. So far I’m 18 months into bi-weekly intensive chemotherapy. The side effects are hell but I’ll do whatever it takes to be there for my daughter as long as possible.Get those colonoscopies early! If I had, my life would be radically different.
Just over 20 years ago, I had cut my thumb and it wasn’t healing. It needed a couple of stitches — no big deal. My normal doctor was away and I had a locum.As an afterthought, I asked for a prescription for the pill. I only took it for regularity as I had been told I couldn’t have kids due to severe endometritis.The doctor wanted to do a pregnancy test first as I was a few days late. I told him that was normal for my body (even on the pill), but he insisted.As we waited for the result, he started writing out the prescription. Suddenly he looked at the test, looked at me and said, ‘Congratulations! You’re pregnant!’My life was complicated back then and to say it was a shock was an understatement. I saw stars and walked out in a daze.My beautiful golden haired girl entered the world 9 months later (the photo is of her and her beautiful partner) and changed my life. She is the best thing that ever happened to me. We are best friends and talk nearly every day.She taught me unconditional love and loyalty and has the purest heart of anyone I know.To say I love my daughter is an understatement.
in 1974 I had this pimple on my right forearm that wouldn’t come to a head, nor would it go away. And it was tender. So after a couple of months I took it to my doctor who sent me to a dermatologist. It was an amelanotic melanoma, a melanoma with no pigment. Further examination found that it had metastacized and there was some in my lungs. IN 74, that was a death sentence. They gave me 6 months, max.But I was 25 and otherwise healthy, so they did the hail mary pass, cut out the lobe of my lung with the most mets, and put me on a brutal chemotherapy regimen of a monthly injection of 2 grams of something they called DTIC. It’s so toxic that they usually spaced it out over five days a month. But as I said, I was young and healthy and they thought I could take it. So they gave me a five day course in one dose, every month for a year.And once a month for a year, I’d fly back off the road to San Francisco, get poisoned, and then run for home to try and make it before the nausea began. I never did, but the nurses would give me a just-in-case garbage bag for when it hit. Then it was eight hours of agony, cramping and running at both ends. The pot pipe made it possible for me to keep breakfast down the next day as I tried to pull myself together in the face of the worst hangover on earth. And the next day, I’d be back on a plane, and back on tour. This went on for a year, but it was worth it. I beat terminal cancer, and the years since then have been the best years of my life
It’s April 2006, I’m getting ready to go out with some friends. I live at home and my mom yells at me to put the flea collar on my cat. Roxie, my somewhat feral cat, doesn’t love affection. Honestly, she didn’t belong in the house, but at this point that’s neither here nor there;;she’s been with us for three or four years.Anyway, I put it on her, she loses her shit and bites the palm of my hand. I bleed for a second or two, I wash it and tell my mom the cat’s collar is on.The next day I’m at work and notice that my hand is blotchy and feels warm and “off,” which is the best way I can describe it. I call my mom who says it might be infected and that I should go to the hospital, It’s a Sunday night and I have a copay but I go to appease her.I stopped off at home to grab dinner and then head to the ER. The ER nurse was actually a neighbor, and she asked what was going on. I show her my hand and she pulls up my long sleeve T-shirt and immediately gets me a room and an IV.I’m sitting there confused as to what the big deal was. It turns out cats’ mouths are FILTHY and anytime they break the skin it’s a big deal and you should immediately go to a doctor.The doctor told me, that I was within anywhere from 30–90 minutes away from the infection getting to my heart and the nurse, our friend, saw that it was at my shoulder and acted quickly. Had it gotten to my heart, an incredibly likely outcome would have been death. I was in the hospital for three days to clear out the infection.The best part is after spending half a week in the hospital, I get home and that damn cat was sitting in the middle of my bed, and I swear she had a smirk on her face.
I was probably 7–8 years old.One pretty morning, I developed severe stomachache but my mother thought, she’s just blabbering excuses to not go to school. However, I kept my statement sharp that this is something serious.She took me to the Military hospital and as usual I was put under various blood tests and X rays.There, back at home, some mosquitoes started troubling my father, so he opened the drawer to find the old mosquito solution of that time, the tikki or mat which was kept on light bulbs.Doctors didn’t find something significant, and my mother scolded me pretty badly for Missing the school.But, when we reached back home, my father showed us something uncertain.2–3 spitted out, chewed mosquito mats. It was me.I chewed them last evening without knowing that they are not a snack but a mosquito killer.Later on, when this thing was informed to the Doctors, they immediately called me back.I was admitted in a Hospital for a week where my whole body was put under processes of detoxification.Finally, I made it alive.
Continue reading with Bored Panda PremiumUnlimited contentAd-free browsingDark modeSubscribe nowAlready a subscriber?Sign In
Continue reading with Bored Panda Premium
Unlimited contentAd-free browsingDark mode
Unlimited content
Ad-free browsing
Dark mode
Subscribe nowAlready a subscriber?Sign In
For a couple of years prior to 2015, I asked my doctor at my annual physical about a lump behind my ear. He didn’t seem concerned and passed it off as most likely a blocked salivary gland. In November 2015, I mentioned to him that it was sore to the touch. He said just BLOCKED salivary glands don’t usually hurt. So, he sent me for an ultrasound and from that a needle biopsy that turned up “suspicious cells”. On December 3rd they took me in for surgery to remove it. The ENT surgeon said the tumor he saw on the ultrasound was benign 80% of the time.During my surgery, he came out and told my wife it was quite different than he had expected it to be. It was a malignant tumor that had wrapped itself around two branches of my facial nerve. He further told her that he needed her to decide for me (I was still asleep) what he should do. 1. Clean it up the best he could and risk not getting all of the tumor, but spare the nerves or 2. Cut the nerves and risk facial paralysis, but remove the tumor in one piece. She told him to GET IT OUT. It was the right choice. I do have some mild paralysis but after 32 radiation treatments and six weeks of chemo, I am cancer free. I ended up needing a feeding tube for three months and lost 28 lbs. but that April I was able to meet my twin grand babies when they came along.
When I gave birth to my first child, two months afterwards I had the worst bout of heartburn of my life. I had eaten a single slice of vegetarian pizza, extra sauce. Just one, and couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night. My life continued on it’s course.Enter sushi night with my favorite 911 roll that had extra spicy tuna and garlic bits. I had exactly three pieces, played a bit of a particular game, and went to bed around three hours later. Again, had the worst heartburn, this time it gave the previous bout a run for it’s money. I shrugged it off, and went about my life.Some of you already know where this is going, but I’ll continue.I had a few more bouts of this over the next 17 months. Then, it happened.My husband, who I was in the first steps of a relationship with and we met through friend online, was set for our Saturday night “date.” I informed him I was picking up my very favorite salsa and guacamole with an oreo cookie shake I fully intended to pass to my son after a few sips. I did just that. A few sips of the shake, I then ate a cup of tortilla chips with salsa and guacamole and sat down to our little date. I started to feel a bit off.I thought it was my heartburn. Excused myself and got some tums and continued, except, it wasn’t heartburn, this was different. I excused myself, called my ex husband to get our child and laid down on the couch. For the next 24 hours I felt like something was sitting on my chest and stubborn me refused to go to the doctor.I finally at my now husband’s insistence went into the hospital. Down played it to my cousin who dropped me off on the other side of the ER and went home. I walked very slowly in to the ER who didn’t take me seriously and kept me waiting in the waiting room for five hours on the chairs that I was laying down in the whole time.I got triaged, and the second they took my vitals the nurse went white and asked me what my pain level was. I said an 11, and promptly burst into tears. Got put back into the room, and the doctor, who I found out was a surgeon, came in and didn’t even ask me more than one question, which was “Where does it hurt?” I pointed to my chest and he winced and said, “I am SO sorry.” and pressed down.I screamed. Only time I have ever screamed like that before or after. Even during labor I didn’t do that.Yeah, I was admitted and he told me surgery was being scheduled as soon as there was an opening. He told me that even before the ultra sound was set up. I asked “For what?!”“Oh, I am quite certain that your gall bladder needs to come out. As of yesterday. “It was and it did.Stones were spilling out as well. Laparoscopy performed and sent home a happy camper less than 24 hours later.I learned that weekend heartburn sometimes wasn’t just “heartburn.”
Can’t really say small but my husband pulled a muscle at work got put on pain and anti-inflammatory meds(he’s taken them before) and one morning(April 11, 2016) he couldn’t sleep and was restless and it’s now 630am im trying to get 2 kids on the school bus and one off to work, I had asked him to go lay down till I got the kids out and I’d check his blood pressure. When I did it was 200/108(he was already on BP meds) and also complained about some chest pain. Off to the ER we went. BP came down to 180/100 and Dr ordered a chest x-ray came back all clear except for a mass just to the left of his heart and several lymph nodes inflamed in the right lung. They kept him overnight for obversation with a scheduled biopsy in 2 weeks of tge mass in his left lung. Results came back as stage 3 lung cancer. By early May after a PET scan it went to terminal stage 4 inoperable lung cancer. He underwent chemo and immunotherapy and radiation; things looked much better but sadly after about 6 months and another PET scan it spread the worst of it was in his bones. We wound up trying different chemo and things got progressively worse. He worked right up till 2 months before he passed, he never gave up until the last 2 months as the cancer went to his brain. I think he realized that this was it.🥺 It was then I had to take the car keys away from him and hide them including mine. He drove one night as we went out to dinner a month before he passed and all I can say in the almost 30yrs of being with him I was never so scared in my life with him behind the wheel. Life forever changed for me and our 3 kids when he passed a little over 3 years ago. But we are still here and trying to continue our lives. RIP Tim
Not me but my Mom. I was about 8 years old, only child, Dad was over the road truck driver so it was just mom and me in our mobile home in nowhere Iowa. I was in bed and heard thumping and banging noises coming from the hallway. Opened my bedroom door to find mom on the floor in front of my room. She gasped “I’m sick” and didn’t speak anymore. I remember she had an infected hangnail she had been soaking in epsom salt the day before. The finger was red, swollen, and there was a red line running from the finger to her upper arm. She was feverish, vomiting, unable to stand. I called the nearest hospital and they blew me off telling me it was the flu. I’m pretty sure they could tell I was a child so did not take me seriously. This was before cell phones so no way to get ahold of dad. I’m not sure why but I had it in my head that if the red line got to her heart, she would die. I was pretty close to panicking at this point so I went next door and woke up the neighbors for help. They took her straight to the ER where they started her on antibiotics and kept her for a week. They wouldn’t tell me much because I was a kid but Mom told me later I saved her life. She almost died from an infected hangnail.
See Also on Bored Panda
When I was around 15 years old I started working at a community pool where my sister worked the front desk. One day while I was wiping the counters and high touch areas down, she asked why I was “standing crooked”. Me, being a moody 15 year old grunted “I’m not” and continued to work. A little while after I went to my family dr who referred me for a spinal xray. Turned out I had scoliosis. This explained my constant soreness, pain, and mental health issues the pain was causing. I ended up having surgery at the VCH (1.5 hours from myhome) at age 17. The surgery took around 9–10 hours, but was very successful.I spent the next couple weeks in the hospital. I made friends, relearned how to sit up, walk, goto the washroom, shower etc again; and finally made a successful trip down the flight of stairs - the “test” in order to be sent home.The day I was supposed to leave the hospital, I received news that my incision was infected + I was to be wheeled back into surgery - this time a 4 hour one - to clean it all out and get it bandaged it up again. I spent another couple days in the hospital after this but eventually made it home.Shortly after returning home, I fainted while attempting to take my pain medicine. I was back in the hospital (local one this time, thankfully) where they monitored me + checked my back and hardware out. Everything was eventually cleared and I was sent home once again. The recovery wasn’t quick, nor was it fun, but I had an amazing support system in my family and friends. This was easily one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do in my life, and it’s something that is ongoing - even after surgery.
I went into 2 separate doctors twice for a lump in my breast almost exactly a year apart. The first time I felt it and went in it was pretty small but noticeable to myself. Maybe dime size. This doctor felt my breast and told me he clearly felt the lump but that it was clearly nothing to worry about. That I was too young to worry about stuff like that. I was 26. So then a year later I went to a new doctor after with my current fiancé he had felt the lump and told me to get it checked out. I went into a brand new doctor, got another breast exam done, was told almost the exact same thing, “I feel the lump but it’s nothing for you to worry about, you are too young to worry about it.” This time it was about this size of a quarter now. A few days later, I was speaking to a friend of a friend that was an ER nurse and explained my lump and she took a look, noticed immediately my nipple was inverted and I had dimpling, and URGED ME TO IMMEDIATELY GET A MAMMOGRAM. This was only a few days after that last appointment. So I called that last doctors nurses the next morning and very aggressively told them I didn’t care what he said that I requested a mammogram immediately. The hoops I had to jump through during that entire process was crazy. I was assured the entire process that there was absolutely no possible way it was of any concern and they fought with me the entire process of mammogram, ultrasound, biopsy, the whole 9 yards. 2 days after my testing, they called me and informed me I had a very rare form of breast cancer that is extremely rare to be seen in anyone under 50–60+ years old. I was stage 3B and it was spreading slowly to my chest wall and we basically caught it just before it spread any further. We had to work extremely fast and aggressively. I just turned 30 this year and so far I’m NED (no evidence detected) but if I had listened to them I certainly don’t think I would be around today.Update: In April 2021 they found a reoccurrence during my pregnancy. I’m now stage 4 and it’s going to end my life eventually. I’m 30. I have 2 little boys now that will lose their parent very early in their lives because of negligent Dr’s. I actually had seen a new Dr in February who disregard bone pain also. They had let it spread much to far to come back from. Thank you for the upvotes. It needs more attention that Dr’s need to listen to their patients better when they know something is wrong. Also, please advocate for yourself if something feels wrong.
It wasn’t me but my one year old. He had redness and swelling around his privates, specifically his scrotum. My ex husband and I thought he had a diaper rash so we put our cream on it and disregarded it as just that; diaper rash. It wasn’t uncommon as our son hadn’t done well with many brands of diapers and wipes. About two weeks later, still seeing the ‘rash’ and small amount of swelling in his groin made an appointment with his pediatrician. When I got there, his doctor told me to wait a moment. He left the room and apparently was making a phone call to the Children’s Hospital of Atlanta, Scottish Rite and when he came back into the exam room, he told me I was to bring my son there immediately and that they already knew I was coming with him.Turned out he had a hydrocele that was turning into a hernia and needed to be operated on. The procedure went well and I am grateful to my son’s pediatrician and all the doctors and surgeons who work at such a wonderful facility.
When I was 18 I was at university. One of my friends asked if I could see alright as he had noticed me squinting. I had had an eye check as a routine test at the GPs only a few months earlier and could read the bottom line of the chart; my eyesight was fine.Over the next few weeks I noticed I was squinting so went closer and closer to the front so I could read it. My friends started offering me appointments to the optometrist that they could not make. I said I wanted to go when I went home for Easter.I got my mum to make me an appointment and she dropped me off. The optometrist was a friend of my parents. He was quite chatty and told me I was probably just a bit short-sighted.He then said, “No, we won’t make any assumptions till after we do the check.”He remained fine.I could not read the second line on the chart - with either eye. This was only about three months after reading all the lines at the doctor’s. He went through the tests to see what glasses I needed and checked my eyes.The slit lamp, all normal stuff, until he finished my eye exam.He looked at me and said that I would need corrective lenses but he wanted to call my mother and wait till she got there to discuss what was wrong with my eyes. I knew then it was serious. Wearing glasses is not that big a deal – more must be going on.Mum arrived 10 minutes or so later and he explained I have keratoconus and may go blind. Glasses would not correct my vision; I would need hard contact lenses and to see a special lens fitter in the city and an opthalmologist. In the meantime I got glasses. I was 18.I was contact lens intolerant. My parents spent thousands on lenses I could not wear. A few years later my sister also got the same diagnosis. She was also lens intolerant.At 26 I literally walked in front of a car I could not see; my eyesight was that bad. Even wearing glasses I could not read the top line on the chart.That year I had my first corneal graft (transplant); the next year my other eye was done. I still cannot wear contacts but am currently legal to drive with glasses.It has been a rocky road but I saw my kids reach adulthood.
I was working a double at a restaurant one night. It had been exactly one month since my 21st birthday. Towards the end of my shift, I just felt off. Lightheaded and extremely thirsty but no matter how much water i drank i couldnt quench my thirst. I thought maybe i was dehydrated or something else that wasnt a big deal. I decided to go to the ER to get checked out to be safe.My coworker drove me to the hospital after my shift was over. I went to the check in desk and briefly explained what was going on. Despite the ER being full i was immediately taken back to triage.A nurse mentioned to another nurse that my breath smelled sweet. I covered my mouth wishing i had stopped home to brush my teeth as i thought she meant i had bad breath. They checked my blood sugar. It was 338. I asked if that was bad but didn’t recieve an answer.I was taken back and they ran bloodwork. Several hours later I still didn’t know what was going on. I demanded to see a doctor.A doctor came in shortly after and informed me i had juvenile diabetes, known as type 1 diabetes now. I was admitted and taken to a room where i would learn how significantly my life was gonna change.Its been 9 years now and its still a battle everyday. But im winning. I will not let this disease tear me down.
This is a slightly different take on the “something small” concept.Just over 20 years ago I developed a nasty chest infection which was going around the hospital where I worked. Like most people who got it, I was coughing up phlegm for about six weeks.Unlike the others, though, I didn’t stop coughing, although the cough became dry. For six months I coughed violently at the slightest provocation - often until I either vomited or wet myself or both. The NHS tried me on a battery of tests and medications, including an inhaler in case I’d developed asthma, and blowing into a measuring gadget several times a day for weeks, but nothing helped.Finally, they had me doing a battery of lung-volume tests which required me to cough as violently as I could. So I did. I coughed so hard I coughed up a little pea-sized glob of solidified phlegm which must have been sitting somewhere in my larynx, irritating it, for six months. Once that was out - no more cough.
In April of 2020 I noticed a little bump growing on my upper lip. It felt like maybe an ingrown hair from shaving at somewhat irregular times with the shutdown from the COVID situation. I picked at it with a needle as I’d done before when an ingrown happens, but couldn’t find the hair.It kept growing and turned out to be a particularly fast growing type of wart with a nasty solid “horn” on it.I finally got an appointment at the dermatologist and she took one look and told me she’d spray it with the liquid nitrogen and that would take care of it. After she sprayed it she asked if I had any others, since they charge the same price to do 1–15 lesions in a session.I said well ya actually, I’ve got a big crusty old-man looking wart on my left calf. Long story short, that thing I thought was just a crusty looking old-man wart turned out to be squamous cell carcinoma type skin cancer.Fast forward to today, I had an excision to remove the SCC, plus two other biopsies. One on my face just below my eye and the other on the web valley between two toes for a possible melanoma. 0/10 I do not recommend needles and razor blades between the toes!Thankfully the toes spot turned out to be benign but the spot on my face is basal cell carcinoma and will require MOHS surgery sometime later this month.Moral of the story is wear sunscreen better than I did the last 30 years!!
I went to my doctor complaining about a couple symptoms I was having.sharp and dull pain left side of my chest when I took a deep breath.Upset stomach.ache in my armpit left side.He told me to stop sleeping on my left side and to start taking ibuprophen for my shoulder pain, and an acid reducer for my stomach.2 weeks later I was walking with my grandfather in a really bright city.. he died in 1997.Came to with a woman giving me chest compressions in the back of an ambulance.Stent in my L.A.D.Widowmaker heart attack.then a pulmonary embolism 7 days later.then my kidneys shut down from all the blood thinners they gave me.I now have a new family doctor.
I’ll keep it short..I never get colds or the flu. Woke up one day having trouble breathing and coughing. Ignored it for hours but it got worse. Finally I went to one of those walk in clinics. They did lots of test said I had the flu and sent me hone.About a hour later I could hardly breath. Tougher it out for a hour and went to the er. I never go to the er so you know it was bad.Soon as I got there they started hooking me up with tubes and oxygen.Not long later they told me I had the flu and double pneumonia. They didn’t tell me then but I was having a heart attack too.They loaded me up and transferred me to another hospital and put me in icu.Later they did more test and told me I have blockages in my heart and needed open heart surgery.I had quadruple heart surgery before I left.Went to doctor for a bad cough and left after open heart surgery.Having the flu saved my life.
I’m 61 years old. When I was 50 I decided to go get a check-up for for the first time in about 25 years. I felt fine but thought it might be a good idea to make sure everything was ok. My family had a history of long and healthy lives. Many living into their 90’s and even 100’s. I smoked, ate what I wanted, drank, and didn’t exercise. I was cocky. I even put off my checkup till I was 52. (Hey, I feel fine!). Fast forward, Doc wanted me to get an MRI, I do. He calls me a few days later and says I have an “ascending aortic aneurysm”. He said it’s not big enough to operate but it does need to be monitored. Three months later I wake up and my face is swollen and looks like a red balloon. That has never happened before. My wife insists I go see the doctor. I go (reluctantly). “I feel fine!” The nurse practitioner (Melody❤️!) tells me it’s an allergic reaction to something and have I changed anything in my daily routine. Of course not! I’m 52 years old! She said if it happens again call her.Now…I’m getting ready to leave and making small talk when Melody’s expression kind of changes. She asks me if she can listen to my heart. I am kind of taken aback but told her, sure. She put the stethoscope to my chest and asked, “How long have you had the murmur?” “What murmur?” She looked at me and said, “You have a very loud murmur”. (She knew about my aneurysm.). Long story short, my aneurysm had ballooned very rapidly and I was in surgery in just a few days. My doctor told me if I would have waited it probably would have dissected in less than a year and I would have died instantly. He did say it might have happened later, but it would have definitely killed me.Melody told me later that she just had a strong feeling that she had to listen to my heart. She also said I’m the reason she listens to the heart of every one of her patients before they leave. Oh yea, I’ve not had any kind of allergic reaction since then, and I had never had one before.I’m not particularly religious and I have often struggled with belief. I don’t know what to make of this experience, but I can’t help but think something was looking out for me. In case your wondering, my surgery and recovery have been outstanding. My cardiologist tells me I’m one of his success stories. Melody still works for my G.P. and I consider her my guardian Angel.
About 13 years ago I went to the doctor for recurring fevers. Every six weeks or so I’d get a high fever and be sick for about five days. Sometimes the fevers were as high as 103°F (39.5°C). Blood work was fine. I was told nothing was wrong. I kept getting the fevers and kept going to the doctor and leaving with no diagnosis.One Saturday I was sick and I went to the clinic. The doctor on call that day thought something wasn’t right and sent me to an oncologist. Turned out I had lymphoma, a kind called Waldenstrom macroglobulinemia.The doctor first tried a chemo. drug but it didn’t work. He decided to do a stem cell transplant using my own stem cells. They took my cells out and then blasted me one time with a very intense chemo. drug then the cells were put back in. I had the usual hair loss but, before it fell out in clumps, I decided to just shave my head.The treatment worked like a charm! I was back to work in four months.
My mom was a cheerful and healthy 72 year old widow who saw her doctor for blood pressure checks mostly. One week she asked him about a few black spots on the toes of one foot.“Blood blisters" he pronounced them.Mom is a retired RN which is good because she is educated and bad because she believes whatever doctors say. No questions.The spots started to hurt and she went back. Twice. No different opinion from this guy.I said, “Enough!” and scheduled a second opinion with someone I trusted. He took one look and then scheduled her immediately with the office of our top Vascular Surgeon.The surgeon said, “I hope we can save your leg. This is gangrene.”She had to have a vein rebuilt all along her leg. She made a good, if not painful, recovery. Her doctor had the nerve to stop in to see her.He said “Your daughter gave me a call. She was quite angry.”My mom smiled. “I don’t doubt it.”What i said to him was “A 3rd year medical student can recognize gangrene!”Our attorney said we could only sue if she DID lose her leg.
I went to the doctor for my Scout Camp physical. I was the Scoutmaster of our Troop, and every Scout and leader must have a physical before going to camp.I was expecting it to be routine checkup, but instead the doctor looked at an item on my blood test and got a worried look on his face.“Your PSA is dangerously high,” he said.PSA stands for Prostate Specific Antigen. It goes high if you have an injury to your prostate or if you have an illness, which could range from an infection to cancer.“I’ll pass you to go to camp,” he said, “but when you get back, we need to do some more tests.”Well, I did the additional tests and eventually had a needle biopsy where they took three samples of tissue from my prostate and examined them. I was at school teaching when the doctor called. I went to the office to take the call. (Pre cell phone days.)He said, “Well it looks like you have cancer.” My legs got weak and I suddenly had to sit down.In the next month or so I had more tests and investigated various options for treatment. I noticed that radiation and cryogenics both said, “Results comparable to surgery.” So, surgery was the standard, and I elected to have surgery.That was 29 years ago, and I’m still here. 29 years cancer free. All thanks to my Scout physical.
When I moved to Thailand, I got really terrible acne on my chin.I figured it was from the much hotter climate, different food, pollution, or water. Whatever the cause, I had a pizza face for the first time in years.That summer, after being in Thailand for about 5 months, I suddenly had to go home for my grandma’s funeral. So, I scheduled an appointment with my dermatologist while I was there. My first dermatologist appointment in around 5 years.When I got there, she gave me a topical medication to help me with my breakout.But, she also noticed a very suspicious-looking mole while I was there.She tested it and found that that mole was changing rapidly. It wasn’t quite cancer, but it was so close to becoming cancer that they treated it like cancer.She immediately got me in to remove the mole, saying, if I waited any longer, skin cancer could have developed and spread.It seemed to me like getting terrible acne from moving countries is what saved me from getting skin cancer. Without it, I never would have gone to the dermatologist and they wouldn’t have caught it in time.It was the first time in my life that I thanked God for giving me acne.
i had been having annoying neck and shoulder pain for months, probably over a year or more. I went to my doctor, who was an internal medicine doctor. He did a cursory check of things and decided I was most likely depressed. I didn’t believe so, but doctor knows best, right? I left his office with a prescription for Prozac. I took it for a month and didn’t feel any happier, nor was I in less pain. We tried muscle relaxants also. They didn’t help much, but at least made me sleep well. I stopped taking the antidepressant and went back to the doc.He sent me to a rehabilitation doc who suggested physical therapy, so I started PT a couple times a week. I was fit at the time, and doing 100 mile cycling rides (centuries) and sprint and Olympic level triathlons. I had knots that had formed in my shoulders and neck. The PT put me in traction and started putting intense pressure on the knots. The pain was excruciating!!As the months passed, there was no real progress, except I started getting shooting shock like pains in the side of my face that would make me twitch. They were intense, yet momentary. The rehab doc decided it was time for MRI’s of my head and neck. He said the scans came back with nothing significant and decided we would start a course of lidocaine injection therapy. He explained this would offer me weeks of relief and stop the muscle knots and spasming. I also continued the PT.I went and had the injections. One injection went into every significant knot in my shoulders. I think it was about 10 Injections.What I haven’t mentioned, is during this same time period, my partner had been diagnosed with chronic overactive autoimmune disorder, which was determined to be attacking her liver. Her liver was being destroyed and we were making trips across the state to the transplant hospital and waiting on the donor list. This process is very slow, and quite honestly, a person has to be literally dying to get to the top of the list. In addition, we were raising my 3 year old granddaughter at the time and both of us were working full time. Tough times, indeed.The injections didn’t seem to work for more than a couple days. I called the doc and he was dumbfounded. He said the injections should have provided relief for weeks and said we would try another round. He referred to a neurologist for nerve testing. The testing showed nothing notable.During that time, I found a largish lump in my neck. It was close to my lymph gland, and felt like it - but it wasn’t quite in the right place. When I went for my appointment, I asked him what he thought about it. He looked shocked and sent me for more MRI’s.When I met to review the new scans, he sheepishly admitted the first scans had showed a problem and the doctor reviewing them said I needed further testing that extended further down my spine. The new scans showed a massive schwannoma growing on my spinal cord and enveloping my C-2 nerve. The entire process to get the diagnosis was close to a year.I was referred back to the neurologist, who quickly said he couldn’t help me. The tumor was too entangled and it was beyond his scope of expertise. He referred me to another neuro. That doctor said the same, and then referred me to the chief of Neurology at Wake Forest Baptist Medical Center. He had concerns, but took the case. We scheduled the surgery for a couple months forward - he explained it was a slow growing non-malignant tumor and a slow approach would give me time to get my affairs in order.Then, my partner suddenly died. An anyeurism in her pancreas suddenly, unexpectedly burst while she was at work. She never came home and had passed before I got to the hospital. The hardest thing I’ve ever done was trying to explain to my granddaughter why her other grandma wasn’t coming home again. Ever.As I write this, I still don’t know how I survived those days and weeks. What a horrible nightmare.I had the surgery, which saved my life. The Neurologist was shocked at how bad the
Somewhere around 1997, I noticed a small white “thingy” on the inside corner of my eye. Because I was living in the desert southwest (US), I thought my eye had grown a pearl of some sort as an adaptation to a desert irritant of dust or sand. A few months later back in Texas, I went to an eye doctor who said he had to refer me to a specialist. That person specialized in “diseases of the orbit.”He operated to remove the “thingy” and told me it was NOT tangled with tiny blood vessels behind the eyeball, and he would send it to a lab for examination. He called a week later and said he had to refer me to an oncologist, which I knew meant “CANCER!”So, I went to the oncologist during a long lunch break, expecting a brief talk with him. He told me he diagnosed me with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma, and that I needed to have chemotherapy. Somewhat already knowing what he might say in response, I asked “what if I don’t do it?” He replied that it would take over “any organ anywhere that it wants to, and it’s an awful way to die.”“When would I start?”“We have openings today in our infusion center, but you might want to eat lunch first if you haven’t already.”I agreed to start after taking some time to find lunch, and after flooding with tears but somehow eating anyway, I returned for my first infusion of that nasty mix of poisons.“Big things have small beginnings.”I survived and am still cancer-free, after about 22 years.*** Please don’t suggest any edits suggestive of the movie “Prometheus.”
I was involved in a car accident a year and a half ago. I was stopped in traffic and an uninsured driver with a suspended license hit me between 35–40 mph. I was driving my husband’s truck. Both vehicles were totaled.I immediately had a bad headache but figured it was from the stress of the accident. I just wanted to go home.I didn’t go to the hospital for two days, but I was having neck pain in addition to the headache that hadn’t gone away since the accident. They took X-rays. I waited. They came back with a wheelchair and wanted more X-rays. I thought it was weird; the whole wheelchair thing. They took different X-ray views. I waited. Again they came and were taking me for a CT scan. Next an MRI. They came back again. This time with a hard neck brace. The whole time, nobody is telling me anything except they were admitting me to the emergency room and asking me if I had wet myself during the accident.They wheeled me back with the neck brace on and helped get me into a bed. I said I could do it myself but two nurses literally put me in the bed. Long story, I had four herniated discs in my cervical spine, a traumatic brain injury (TBI) that turned into postconcussive syndrome, in which I still have issues with speech, memory and severe anxiety.During the CT scan and MRI, they found lesions (2cm tumors, many of them) on each side of my thyroid. They took several biopsies, on several different days, of the lesions. The results were not cancer but because of their sizes, they will need to be monitored every year to watch for changes.So basically a rear-end accident that I was initially more concerned about my truck, ended up changing my life in some very drastic ways. My medical bills were over $25,000.00. I Spent over 4 months in physical therapy twice a week. And I’ve had to have several epideral spinal injections for pain. Which will likely have to continue indefinitely throughout life.But it also made me aware of the lesions that I otherwise may not have known about. Until it may have been too late, at some point. So on the flip, it was a blessing in disguise.all in all I have learned that there is an equal balance of good and bad, for the most part. You often can’t have one without the other.
I once had an infection in my toe from a hang nail. It was my big toe, I was told to use very warm water and salt mix and soak my toe for at least 30 minutes 3 times a day. My toe got more infected, to the point I couldn’t touch it without sending, what felt like, electric shocks through my body all the way to my toe.I went to emerge with my mom (I was 8), they immediately decided it needed to be dealt with. It was supposed to be a short procedure, where they cut off the infected nail and the infected part of my toe. It ended up being a procedure that they couldn’t freeze, I felt everything.I was laying in the bed at emergency, and the doctors tried to freeze my toe, they checked if I felt anything, I screamed bloody murder while they put the freezing in and when they tested it, so they tried again, same thing so they tried again, I was so stressed out, I didn’t understand that they were trying to freeze it, I thought they were literally just going for a torture technique. I just wanted it done and over with, so when they tested if I could feel any pain, I sucked every bit of strength I had and said no through my tear smeared face.They grabbed the big medical scissors and my mom held me down so I couldn’t see what was happening. as soon as they started to cut about half of my nail, I started screaming a sound, not normal to my own ears. My mom started to cry and begged me to calm down or else she was going to have to leave the room. So I did everything not to scream, I just sobbed endless tears until they had cut off half my toe nail and a good chunk of the (infected) skin. My toe was wrapped for several weeks and I was given pain meds to help with the pain.thankfully I didn’t lose my toe or even half of it, it grew back completely.to this day, that is most physically painful experience, and I’ve now had 4 kids. They were a breeze compared to my toe infection…
I had a persistent minor cough. I have had pneumonia before, so the doctor ordered chest x-rays, expecting to see evidence of some fluid in my lungs or possible other bronchial problems. The doctor didn’t note anything immediately obvious in the lungs, so off I went on my scheduled trip to Disneyland. Another day passed, then my doctor called with the radiology report. I explained that he would have to speak up because it’s noisy in Disneyland. His hesitant response? “Um… How did you do on the flight?”Radiologists are trained to review the x-ray images before reading the patient’s case history. This is so they don’t focus on one thing and overlook something else. It turns out my heart was quite large. The doctor ordered me to go see a doctor near Disneyland before trying to fly home.Pneumonia? No. Bronchitis? No. Congestive heart failure. At age 45. The doctor was not expecting this, because I was quite young for this, and had continued to be very active, including having just taken up indoor soccer.A bunch of meds and a pacemaker, and I continue to be active - snowboarding, playing indoor soccer and futsal, and whitewater rafting. The only thing limiting my activity is COVID-19.
I went to Dr because of numbness in my feet, that was later diagnosed as neuropathy, but while there dr said I was due for physical, and they had now changed and instead of chest xray for physical they now do CT scan. So I had a CT scan as routine and it came back with a spot in my chest. A couple more scans and they confirmed I had a tumor right in the middle of my chest the size of a goose egg. More tests referrals and scans ( cat scan inconclusive on if cancer or not, and biopsy not possible as they can’t get through my chest plate to sample ) and I ended up in the office of a cardio thoracic surgeon. A few weeks later I went in for surgery, the surgeon cut my chest open ( I’m told they do this with a power saw ) and removed the tumor. Surgeon said it was straight forward tumor not yet attached to my lungs or heart and they got it all. Later It was biopsied and I was told it was non-cancerous ( or benine in medical terms ). At a later follow with my surgeon he said they took my case to the hospital “tumor board" where many doctors help decide on further treatment….and they said I was cured….congratulations…no further treatment needed. This was 1 year ago almost to the day of this post and I’m feeling fine and other then a scar down the middle of my chest I’m fine and back to normal.
Modal closeAdd Your Answer!Not your original work?Add sourcePublish
Modal close
Add Your Answer!Not your original work?Add sourcePublish
Not your original work?Add sourcePublish
Not your original work?Add source
Modal closeModal closeOoops! Your image is too large, maximum file size is 8 MB.UploadUploadError occurred when generating embed. Please check link and try again.TwitterRender conversationUse html versionGenerate not embedded versionAdd watermarkInstagramShow Image OnlyHide CaptionCropAdd watermarkFacebookShow Image OnlyAdd watermarkChangeSourceTitleUpdateAdd Image
Modal closeOoops! Your image is too large, maximum file size is 8 MB.UploadUploadError occurred when generating embed. Please check link and try again.TwitterRender conversationUse html versionGenerate not embedded versionAdd watermarkInstagramShow Image OnlyHide CaptionCropAdd watermarkFacebookShow Image OnlyAdd watermarkChangeSourceTitleUpdateAdd Image
Ooops! Your image is too large, maximum file size is 8 MB.
Upload
UploadError occurred when generating embed. Please check link and try again.TwitterRender conversationUse html versionGenerate not embedded versionAdd watermarkInstagramShow Image OnlyHide CaptionCropAdd watermarkFacebookShow Image OnlyAdd watermark
Error occurred when generating embed. Please check link and try again.
TwitterRender conversationUse html versionGenerate not embedded versionAdd watermark
InstagramShow Image OnlyHide CaptionCropAdd watermark
FacebookShow Image OnlyAdd watermark
ChangeSourceTitle
You May Like30 People Who Completely Transformed Themselves And Gained A Whole New Life (New Pics)Simona KinderytėGuy Asks People How They Get Their 10k Steps In Daily And 41 DeliverGabija Saveiskyte“What Did Your Therapist Tell You That Flipped The Switch In Your Brain For The Better?” (35 Answers)Rūta Zumbrickaitė
Simona Kinderytė
Gabija Saveiskyte
Rūta Zumbrickaitė
Health
