Chapter 4 of "They don't call you to the office to tell you great job" |
Chapter 4 When I finally got home after the surgery, I wasn’t really sure what was going to happen. We knew they had sent the biopsy off for pathology, but other then that, it was just a waiting game. We knew there would probably be more surgery, but they weren’t going to be able to do anything until they knew what they had to deal with. Now waiting sucks, but having to wait knowing that you are slowly dying sucks even more. I went to sleep every night not sure if I would wake up in the morning, or if I did wake up, what kind of shape I would be in. I had strange episodes where I lost feeling in my arms and legs, or parts of my body would go numb. Those really freaked me out, because I didn’t know why they were happening, or if the numbness would stop or just keep going. By the second week after the biopsy, I wasn’t sleeping, so the doctors prescribed me some sleeping pills to help with that problem. My one consolation through this whole time, besides God, of course, was Chad. He came to see me as often as he could, and was always very sweet and loving to me. Right after the surgery, I had called him late one night after I had taken a pain pill. He was used to those drugged girlfriend calls by now. This time I told him that I needed a bear, because bunny told me he was retired, he didn’t like biopsies any more then I did. He laughed about that, but told me he would see what he could do. See! What a sweetie! After three weeks of waiting, we finally got the call from the doctors. And we finally found out what had taken so long. See, the type of tumor that I had was not something they saw all the time, especially not in the location that I had it. My tumor usually happened in older people-like geriatrics, if the little guy showed up at all. They are pretty rare-period. And it was usually in a different location. So the fact that a 20 year old had one in the third ventricle was a BIG deal. In fact, according to statistics, my tumor only happened in .05% of all the tumors diagnosed in the entire U.S. It was so much of a big deal that they originally thought we would have to go to one of the big hospitals on the coasts. So much of a big deal that my MRI films were digitalized and sent to the International Conference of Neurosurgeons in Canada, which just happened to be going on that week. What a lucky break, huh? So, while the neuro docs had their Entmoot (from Lord of the Rings), we got sit at home and wait. And wait. Finally, after all the doctors had looked at it and exclaimed in wonder and awe at my little buddy, they finally agreed that there was a group of doctors in Kansas City that should be able to deal with it easily. So, the surgery was scheduled for the next week, and the final countdown began. They told us the surgery would probably take 8 hours, and there would be two doctors working on me. Wasn't I just a lucky gal! On the morning of my surgery, we got up bright and early to make the trek to Kansas City. (Wasn’t really that hard for me, I hadn’t really slept the night before!) We weren’t the only ones making the trip, either. When we got to the hospital, various members of our extended family began showing up in herds. And I do mean herds! We had a crowd of around 20-30 people in the waiting room, just hanging out for moral support for me and my parents. My mom's parents were there, as well as my dad's mom, and five of his eight brothers and sisters, as well as their families. My sister and my aunt were the entertainment, since they are the clowns in the family, and they were hilarious. When they called me in to start prepping me, my family was allowed to come see me in groups of two or three, since I kept my mom and dad with me. My aunt and my sister came together, and proceeded to demonstrate how to spy on people without them knowing it, and how to prepare yourself for a big surgery-complete with the proper procedures for dealing with catheters and that kind of thing. We were all laughing so hard that we had nurses peeking in trying to see what was wrong. I guess riotous laughter is not something they were accustomed to hearing in that ward. Sarah (my sister) took the prize for the day when she was miming the actions of everyone walking by, including the very snooty, rather large nurse with a God complex. THAT had us all rolling in the floor. My aunt did her part, talking like Ace Ventura and other goofy things. I was going to have to have a HALO frame again this time, but thankfully I would be asleep before they put it on me. At least when you are knocked out you don’t know that you are in mortal agony! Finally, the moment of truth had come, and it was time for me to go meet my brain surgeons. |