So, as I said, it was suddenly Halo Brace installation time. It is not as life-threatening as having your brain blasted, but it is a helluva lot more uncomfortable. I can only compare it to getting hit in the head with a sledge-hammer on four points at the same time, then after the first hit, you get hit again, and again, and again... until the pain pretty much makes you pass out because they never gave you enough anaesthetic to deaden the nerves, then they drive screws in to hold the hammers in place!
I have been in a lot of painful situations throughout my life. I have fallen off a roof, driven a chisel through my hand, dove head-first into three feet of water, had a car radiator blow-up in my face, broken more bones than I can count, ruptured my appendix, been hit in the face with a slapshot and been kicked in the crotch. I would welcome them all again to not have to get another halo brace on my head.
Dr. West and Dr. Schroder really tried their best to keep my mind off the bullets that were being attached to my skull, but apparently, as I mentioned in an earlier post, I have a resistance to anaesthetic. I remembered this as the first two “pins” were being “placed”. (Placing pins sounds so much gentler than screwing bolts, or installing beams, or drilling anchors... because these WERE NOT “pins” and WERE NOT “placed”). The doctors looked at me and said, “Are you alright?”
“Well, it hurts a bit.”
“Does it hurt or do you feel pressure?”
“Both”
“Do you feel a sharpness like a knife?”
“Oh yes, absolutely. It feels like you are hammering nails into the back of my skull.”
“OK, we are going to give you a little more anaesthetic to help deaden that for you.”
West to Schroder, “Put the whole needle in there, he is going to need a lot more.”
Me, “Damn...”, Actually, what I said was considerably more colourful that damn, it was more like that multi-purpose F-word that we all know and love!
Before this all started actually, Janis had rubbed some Botox cream on my head to help freeze it and deaden any sensation. I looked like a teenager from the bridge of my nose up... no forehead wrinkles. I asked her if I could have a couple of tubes to take with me. She laughed and said I was such a jokester... I don’t think she completely got me, I was serious.
So, anyway, after the four, 357 Magnum-sized “pins” were anchored to my skull, I was made lie down and regain my composure. Apparently I lost my entire colour, my blood pressure shot through the roof and I got dizzy before I even got to the radiation tunnel. Janis told me it happens to all guys in ‘my’ category (18 to 45 years old), we all think too much about what they are doing to us with those needles and screwdrivers. Personally, I think it is because I was so calm that she decided I did not need any drugs to help me through the day! Let this be a lesson to you... when in hospital, act worried and they will give you drugs to relax you.
This ‘lightweight’ steel frame that they use to hold you in place all day is not really very lightweight. It may only be 2 or 3 pounds, but you try to hang half a bag of sugar off 4 bolts in your head and tell me how lightweight it is! Not to mention that when you lie down, and they snap you in place so you can’t move, the two lag-bolts in the back of your head are taking all of the weight and pressure of your entire body... just try doing that for 8 hours!
After I stopped swearing at how this has to be the most ridiculous looking and most uncomfortable thing that I have ever worn, Dr. West looked at me and said, “It’s ok Kevin, the worst part of the day is over now.”
I smiled at him, “The worst part better be over, I didn’t fly across the country to be tortured, I came here to kill that little bastard in my head.”
He smiled back, “And that is exactly what we are going to do.”
“Well good then, might as well get the shitty part of the day out of the way early!”
“Yes, we might as well... that is a good way to look at it.”
You would really have to know Dr. West to really appreciate how this conversation must have seemed to him. He is quiet, gentle, friendly and probably wouldn’t say ‘shit’ if his mouth was full of it, yet he seemed to enjoy the banter with me and my attitude. I don’t think they get a lot of people in the neurosurgery unit who try to make fun out of the whole situation. It is a pretty sombre spot... I am probably not anything like their average patient.
Once my blood pressure had returned to normal, Janis came by with another needle. This was some kind of magic dye used to get a full outline of Achmed in the MRI machine. All I can say about that needle is wow... I wonder if that is the rush that you hear heroine addicts talk about? I got hot and sweaty and tingly... of course at this point, I hadn’t eaten for 12 hours either, so it is possible that hunger was starting to play a role in my behaviour.
Not even breakfast time for most people in the city and I had already gone through a days worth of crap by this time.
From Achmed and Me... Live Life!
Oh my God...
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