My Alzheimer's Journey

Part 70 - Not A Fun Sunday Morning

UPDATE:

I received the MRI results about an hour after the scan. As best as I can tell, there is no indication of ARIA. My doctor will confirm that tomorrow.

This means I can move forward with an infusion Tuesday. It also means, we do not know what caused my near panic attacks last week. On three occasions (two during the night and one during a daytime nap), I woke up from a dream with heavy breathing, trembles, fast pulse, and crazy anxiety. It may be stress.

Thank you for all the well-wishes. It means a lot.

Oh, no mimosa was offered,

Greg

It is a cold, rainy morning.

Rather than snuggling with our cats at home, I am in an Uber en route to Duke Hospital. I have an unexpected appointment with an MRI machine.

Being confined in a suffocatingly small metal tube, wearing a dreadful gown, and hearing loud banging noises for fifteen (or more) minutes is not my idea of a relaxing Sunday morning.

In the past week or so, I have had three situations that have raised concerns with my awesome physician. Before I receive my eighth Lecanemab infusion Tuesday, she wants to make certain my poor brain isn’t swelling or bleeding.

As much as I detest everything about an MRI, I went into the Lecanemab treatment program knowing the risks were great. When my doc told me yesterday that she was ordering a stat MRI, I politely accepted.

I would be lying if I said this Sunday morning adventure isn’t disconcerting.

Maybe, Duke will serve me a mimosa after I emerge from the tube.