It's still there, somewhere deep right temporal lobe, above and behind right eyeball - and we still don't know what the fucker is ...
BUT - apparently it's not getting any bigger.
"Stable" they called me (or it).
I've been milking that for all it's worth: a renowned neurosurgeon's calls me 'stable'!
I see a diagnostic neurologist in a couple of weeks who is interested in the case and has been a part of the background panel of people involved - though I've never met him. He may have some other ideas to chase up in regards finding out what it actually is (or was).
BUT - so far as the surgeon is concerned, I'm now in the "let's see you in six months and keep up observations" bracket: it appears the body's own defence cells have surrounded it, contained it and appear to be making sure the fucker gets no bigger all by themselves without any chemical treatment. He's happy with that - and it meant a lot to see him relaxed and unconcerned. Four months of stress dissipated on seeing his relaxed smile.
I swam 1.25 kms in the pool the other night with Sean, I'm getting up on the ladder to finally clean my gutters, am about to purchase a road bicycle .
Neurosurgeon looked totally relaxed about all that - it's been four months now without passing out and he says the risk of it happening again decreases with time. BUT, I'm probably still a good six months off lobbying the state government to be allowed once again behind a wheel. That may still be a two year wait for a license.
AND I just bought two bee hives along with the nuclear reactor worker suit, smoker and all the other stuff, as did Jason. We introduce the queens and the swarms when spring warms up a little. My hives will sit at the foot of the magic manna gum pictured in the last posting, feeding off her nectar.
Red Hill Honey is born - though I have a world to learn (and hopefully now a bit of time to learn it!)
(The Photoshop enhancement to MRI pic is courtesy of Dave - who has made his own diagnosis of the situation: the gopher from Caddy Shack has taken up residence in there and grooving away quit contentedly, as it does in the cup of the 18th in the movie's final scene. The bee is one of my own shots from a ways back: we have much to learn from bees, like never ever ever giving up.)
