Knee Tumor Update

Several months ago, an MRI of Tate’s knee revealed a little tumor. It turns out the tumor wasn’t what was causing his knee pain – it was something the doctors found by accident when he was limping through the holidays with a bad bout of patellar tendonitis. It’s one of those things that popped into my head constantly and scared me so I had to shove it to the side because there was nothing to do except wait, and it looks like it’s going to be that way for a while longer. The tumor is still there, and it’s still not doing much. The good news is that it hasn’t changed in any measurable way, and that there are no bright white spots in the image indicating that dangerous cells are growing. The bad news is that, once again, Tate does not get a Get Out Of Jail Free card. The MRI results were read by Phoenix Children’s Hospital’s top radiologist both times, and his recommendation is to get another image taken in a year to see if there are any changes and to come back sooner if he feels new pain.

This exam was so different from Tate’s oncology appointments. He was holding a clipboard and had his phone, wallet, and glasses in his pockets when they took his weight which made him heavier, and he was wearing thick-soled sneakers that added an inch to his height. They seemed pretty satisfied with ballpark measurements, whereas the cancer people always aim for the most accurate readings; empty pockets, no shoes, temperature, blood pressure. At one point, the doctor had Tate standing on one leg and trying to jump. When she asked him how it felt, he was pretty exasperated and said, “Like I shouldn’t be doing it.” I had to suppress a giggle because leukemia patient Tate mixed with sports medicine specialist Dr. Gaitley was an odd combination. I think she’s more accustomed to working with regular-but-injured bodies, and Tate is used to doctors that don’t push his physical limits in that way.

One of the things I really like about Dr. Gaitley is how she talks to Tate. Often doctors and nurses speak to Greg or me as if Tate isn’t sitting there, but she never does that. Her body and her attention were directed towards Tate the entire time, and she only included me in the conversation as needed.

Things are going pretty good over here! Tate’s last chemotherapy treatment is scheduled for the afternoon of September 22, 2021, and he’ll take his last steroids the morning of September 27, 2021. (If I have everything figured out correctly, and no offense to me, but I don’t always get it right. *shrug*) Please keep in mind that even though this is a very happy occasion, Tate will be miserable and sick until about the 30th. As my dad always said, let’s “keep it at a dull roar” until Tate is feeling good.

It’ll be hard, though. I’m ready to roar now.