 |
| This was my brain on cancer. |
 |
| This is my brain... |
You know that saying "It ain't brain surgery"? Well this actually was.
I had the scan on the right the morning of August 09, 2016; the day after the seizure occurred. I had a lot of tests in the ER before being admitted, and then a continuation of testing on the morning of the 9th. You can see the egg shaped tumor in the image. The scan on the left is after the resection. I looked up the word "resection" for my own edification, and will put it here in laymen's terms for the readers of this blog. A resection of the brain tumor basically means the tumor has been removed. Then they bring in tiny farm implements to plow, till, and disc up the area, and ensure it is relatively level so the piece of your skull they removed to get to the tumor fits back in there properly, kind of like a jig saw puzzle. Sometimes fill material is required, and I can't prove it but I think this is the manner in which the recycling industry deals with styrofoam peanuts. They put the piece of skull back in place and caulk up the seams.
Because the seizure occurred after work and before dinner, there wasn't really time to consider what I might want to eat. You know, like maybe send out for pizza or something like that; so instead they brought me a turkey and Swiss cheese sandwich somewhere around 10 PM. I was frankly hungry because I hadn't been eating hardly anything. Well, turkey isn't my favorite and I haven't been able to stomach Swiss cheese since late December of 1978 when Woody Hayes got fired for punching a Clemson football player after he intercepted a pass and ruined our chance for a bowl game victory. I don't think it had anything to do with th party I was attending; or the full keg of beer that was consumed; or the fact that we ran out of real food and had only cheese and crackers; or the fact that the crackers were quickly consumed and we were left with only Swiss cheese and beer. All of that is circumstantial to my dislike of Swiss cheese.
Excuse me, I'll need to go get my nausea meds before I can continue.
Anyway, back to the sandwich. I was starving and so I started to take it out of the plastic wrap in which it came hermetically sealed, and I noticed the expiration date. The date was sometime in the fall of 2019. I don't even want to imagine what they have to do with cheese, bread and turkey meat to get it to last for 3 years. It tasted as good as it sounds.
I don't remember much of what happened while I was in the hospital other than I was admitted on August 8 and discharged on August 11. During that time I had several different tests and of course the tumor removal. I recall waking up at some point, I believe it was the morning of the 9th and a doctor was sitting next to the bed. There was no one else in the room at the time and he had results of scans and such. My memory maybe isn't terribly accurate for this conversation, but I'm positive that he said "lung cancer, stage 4, 6 months". I was devastated. In my room, alone, he gave me 6 months. Connie got there shortly thereafter (she had been home feeding and tending the dogs), and when I told her she was very upset with the doctor for giving me the news in the manner he did it. She raised a stink. Oh, and incidentally, the 6 months was up the first week of February and I'm still here. Woot!
The source of the cancer was in my lungs, but it had spread to my bones and brain by the time it was diagnosed. The first order of business was to get the tumor out to hopefully stop me from seizing again. The pathology of the tumor was needed before a course of treatment could be defined. Oh, incidentally, the insurance company first denied the pathology work for the tumor saying it was not medically necessary. a$$#@&{?
Later in the day, I had the brain surgery. The surgeon who removed my tumor came in the next day and told me I was his favorite patient ever because as I was coming around in the recovery room, I actually took a swing at the anesthesiologist. He said it was a very nice right upper cut that barely missed his chin. His only regret is that the punch didn't connect. He also said that I should consider that I have a chronic illness, like diabetes, and as long as we could control the symptoms we could probably control the disease. His approach to cancer gave me the ray of hope I needed.
I also met the radiation oncologist during the course of that week. She said the first order of business was relieving the pain in my back. We scheduled an appointment with her to discuss the approach.
There was a lot of other activity in the room while I was there, and it seems like someone was always there smiling at me when I woke up. My mom and sister from Ohio flew down the day after i was admitted. Connie's brother and sister-in-law couldn't get a flight so they jumped in the car and drove it. They arrived here the day I was released from the hospital. While I was in the hospital, Monelle and Teresa were both regulars. They were there for Connie as much as for me and we're very grateful to them.
And speaking of the hospital, the bill for in-hospital services was over $220,000. That didn't include the surgery, anesthesiology or other extraneous items. Evidently the preservatives in that turkey and Swiss sandwich are pricey. a$$#@&{?
I had the scan on the right the morning of August 09, 2016; the day after the seizure occurred. I had a lot of tests in the ER before being admitted, and then a continuation of testing on the morning of the 9th. You can see the egg shaped tumor in the image. The scan on the left is after the resection. I looked up the word "resection" for my own edification, and will put it here in laymen's terms for the readers of this blog. A resection of the brain tumor basically means the tumor has been removed. Then they bring in tiny farm implements to plow, till, and disc up the area, and ensure it is relatively level so the piece of your skull they removed to get to the tumor fits back in there properly, kind of like a jig saw puzzle. Sometimes fill material is required, and I can't prove it but I think this is the manner in which the recycling industry deals with styrofoam peanuts. They put the piece of skull back in place and caulk up the seams.
Because the seizure occurred after work and before dinner, there wasn't really time to consider what I might want to eat. You know, like maybe send out for pizza or something like that; so instead they brought me a turkey and Swiss cheese sandwich somewhere around 10 PM. I was frankly hungry because I hadn't been eating hardly anything. Well, turkey isn't my favorite and I haven't been able to stomach Swiss cheese since late December of 1978 when Woody Hayes got fired for punching a Clemson football player after he intercepted a pass and ruined our chance for a bowl game victory. I don't think it had anything to do with th party I was attending; or the full keg of beer that was consumed; or the fact that we ran out of real food and had only cheese and crackers; or the fact that the crackers were quickly consumed and we were left with only Swiss cheese and beer. All of that is circumstantial to my dislike of Swiss cheese.
Excuse me, I'll need to go get my nausea meds before I can continue.
Anyway, back to the sandwich. I was starving and so I started to take it out of the plastic wrap in which it came hermetically sealed, and I noticed the expiration date. The date was sometime in the fall of 2019. I don't even want to imagine what they have to do with cheese, bread and turkey meat to get it to last for 3 years. It tasted as good as it sounds.
I don't remember much of what happened while I was in the hospital other than I was admitted on August 8 and discharged on August 11. During that time I had several different tests and of course the tumor removal. I recall waking up at some point, I believe it was the morning of the 9th and a doctor was sitting next to the bed. There was no one else in the room at the time and he had results of scans and such. My memory maybe isn't terribly accurate for this conversation, but I'm positive that he said "lung cancer, stage 4, 6 months". I was devastated. In my room, alone, he gave me 6 months. Connie got there shortly thereafter (she had been home feeding and tending the dogs), and when I told her she was very upset with the doctor for giving me the news in the manner he did it. She raised a stink. Oh, and incidentally, the 6 months was up the first week of February and I'm still here. Woot!
The source of the cancer was in my lungs, but it had spread to my bones and brain by the time it was diagnosed. The first order of business was to get the tumor out to hopefully stop me from seizing again. The pathology of the tumor was needed before a course of treatment could be defined. Oh, incidentally, the insurance company first denied the pathology work for the tumor saying it was not medically necessary. a$$#@&{?
Later in the day, I had the brain surgery. The surgeon who removed my tumor came in the next day and told me I was his favorite patient ever because as I was coming around in the recovery room, I actually took a swing at the anesthesiologist. He said it was a very nice right upper cut that barely missed his chin. His only regret is that the punch didn't connect. He also said that I should consider that I have a chronic illness, like diabetes, and as long as we could control the symptoms we could probably control the disease. His approach to cancer gave me the ray of hope I needed.
I also met the radiation oncologist during the course of that week. She said the first order of business was relieving the pain in my back. We scheduled an appointment with her to discuss the approach.
There was a lot of other activity in the room while I was there, and it seems like someone was always there smiling at me when I woke up. My mom and sister from Ohio flew down the day after i was admitted. Connie's brother and sister-in-law couldn't get a flight so they jumped in the car and drove it. They arrived here the day I was released from the hospital. While I was in the hospital, Monelle and Teresa were both regulars. They were there for Connie as much as for me and we're very grateful to them.
And speaking of the hospital, the bill for in-hospital services was over $220,000. That didn't include the surgery, anesthesiology or other extraneous items. Evidently the preservatives in that turkey and Swiss sandwich are pricey. a$$#@&{?
This is why you should be a Notre Dame fan
ReplyDeleteYeah, those hospital sandwiches are scary. Your story may have turned me off of Swiss cheese and i always loved it...
ReplyDeleteHope they are getting your back pain under control. It seems only fair, right?
I was an instructor of neurosurgery at Penn State University Hospital for 6 years in my younger days. Would have considered it an honor and privileged to take care of you and would have paid for you to take a swing at an anesthesiologist who I knew. ;-) I appreciate hearing all of this from your point of view.
I know patients can hear very little of what I try to explain and tell them.
My kid later needed extensive neurosurgery for some congenital anomalies so I know the parent's perspective. Always say she looks like a half million bucks because that's pretty much what her bills added up to through the various operations. Money well spent but um, yeah, I'm sorry about everyone's insurance premiums.
Honestly, you may have had brain surgery but you aren't crazy. No need to become a Notre Dame fan.
Looking forward to your next missive and keeping you in my prayers. <3
I am also not a fan of Swiss cheese, though I do like reubens. I'm okay with baby Swiss - it's not as potent.
ReplyDeleteThose before and after pics are crazy. And I alternately love and hate anesthesiologists. Love because who wants to be awake during surgery? Hate because anesthesia and I do NOT get along.
So cool being in this day and age to see before/after pics AND to have medicine and expertise (despite the a$$#@&}? Insurance company) to prove "know it all" docs wrong, As your neurosurgeon agrees, you continue to be a rock star ⭐️.
ReplyDeleteThank you for inviting me into your world. I've been thinking about you a lot.
ReplyDeleteAt the risk of making you queasy, I have to admit that I had the perverse need for a Swiss cheese snack. My love for cheese must come from my Swiss heritage!
You are an inspiration to all who have the privilege to all. Continue your forward progress. I'd love to see you in Montana this fall.