Have you ever received news so good that you couldn’t stop smiling? So unexpected that it almost made you breathless? So positive that it filled you with energy? So invigorating that it gave you a new sense of purpose? Have you ever had all of these things happen with the same piece of news?
Until today, I was never really sure if the General (Dr. Batten) even had any teeth. I had never seen him smile. In fact, I had hardly ever seen him look me in the eye when he spoke. I guess when you are in a profession that regularly delivering bad news to people, and when they are probably at their most vulnerable, it pays to be able to detach yourself emotionally from the situation. I actually get where he is coming from, I have always looked at my ability to emotionally detach myself from situations as an asset to help me negotiate my best result, be it personally or professionally.
Today General Batten (still not to be confused with General Patten, which still is a good movie) was anything but detached from the news he was delivering… well at least the second part of the news. Initially, when I sat in his office, shaking every extremity with the nervousness of a school girl on her first date, he looked at me and said, “So, your hearing is after getting worse, about 10 to 15 decibels. Did you get your MRI done yet?”
Over the past few weeks, we have had a lot of fog in my lovely city of St. John’s, so if it had not been for my complete lack of vitamin D, I am pretty sure the every ounce of colour in my face would have drained right to the floor. Somehow, my MRI was sitting in the wrong pile or something like that. He went to look for it while I almost threw up with panic.
A couple of minutes later he came back with an ear to ear grin on his face and muttered something in scientific language that was so far above my head that I am still not even sure if he was speaking English. I stared at him with a blank look and mumbled back, “What does that mean?” Normally I read people pretty well, and a big smile like that would have been all I really needed to see and hear to know that even if I didn’t understand it, it was good news.
“The centre of the tumor is dead. Normally that doesn’t happen for at least a year or more, but it shows that your radiation worked and it will probably start to shrink over the next year.”
I am not an emotional person, so I didn’t jump up and hug him… and quit honestly, if I had he probably would have insisted that I don’t come back to see him anymore because he is even less emotionally involved than I am. It’s been eight hours and I am still smiling, so maybe I am a little emotional sometimes, and I got to see Dr. Batten smile… I may be the only person who is not related to him that can even say that!
I am willing to bet that it is going to take some pretty shitty happenings to put me in a bad mood over the next little while.
From Achmed and Me… Live Life!
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Sunday, March 28, 2010
I'm back...
It has been almost 3 months since I wrote anything here and professionally, personally, and tumorly a lot of stuff has been going on in the land of Kevin and Achmed.
First off, I have a new job. About a month ago I did something that I always said I would never do… I became a civil servant. I have to tell you, I loved my old job and even though I had no intentions of staying there for the rest of my life, I didn’t really have any intentions of leaving it anytime soon either. Anyway, to make a long story short, a great gig came up with the Provincial Government and I decided to seize the opportunity and start my government career. My recent health crisis has me looking at things in a different way!
That made for a very hectic six week period, starting off with my vacation in Vegas that had me snowed in for an extra three days. I don’t know if you have ever been to Vegas, but I can tell you that by the time it is time to leave you are ready to go. Regardless of how much fun you have had. The snow storm in New York that had the entire airport system shut down on the Eastern seaboard had me stranded for 3 extra days in Disneyland for adults. I actually had the opportunity to get stranded in Cleveland instead. I have never been to Cleveland, and no offense to any Clevelanders reading this, I opted to keep that trend going and lose more money playing extra Blackjack instead.
When I finally got home, I had to clue up things from my old job, then get started on my new one, take a trip to Halifax, then take a trip to Labrador and still get everything finished and started. It seems for the first time in a while I have a relaxing evening ahead of me.
Three of the four guys have finally started a new band and though we don’t have a name, for the first time that I can remember, I look forward to Mondays! Monday night is our regular rehearsal time… at the pace in which we are learning new songs, it might be fair to say we are practicing as a retirement sideline for when we hit our 60s!
So, now to Achmed… things are going pretty well, more or less. The numbness in my hand is gone; the numbness in my face is gone; the roaring in my head has stabilized; my hearing seems to have stopped getting worse; and my balance sucks. These are all good signs. The fact that my balance is so bad is actually a possible sign that Achmed is shrinking or at least relieving some of the nerve pressure and my body is readjusting to the way it used to be, pre-Achmed.
Now, just because all this is good doesn’t mean that all things are cherry in my head. For the past few weeks I have been falling out of my chair, walking into walls, nailing door-frames with my shoulder whenever I pass through one and pretty much every time I turn around, I almost fall over. In fact, I think that Achmed is indirectly, at least partially, responsible for the tendinitis I have in my right elbow. I can’t remember doing anything to actually injure my arm, but based on the tenderness of my joint and the amount of times I have hit a door-frame with it in the past few weeks, I think my recovering balance has inflicted a case of tennis elbow on me. I realize that sounds kind of funny, but I can assure you with the utmost of confidence, I am not even partially laughing.
This week, Wednesday to be specific, I am going into the MRI lab again to get an internal head-shot. They won’t really be able to tell me if the surgery was successful, but they should be able to tell me if something went terribly wrong. I guess that means that no news will be good news!
Maybe I will see if they can take a shot of my elbow while I am there.
From Achmed and Me… Live Life!
First off, I have a new job. About a month ago I did something that I always said I would never do… I became a civil servant. I have to tell you, I loved my old job and even though I had no intentions of staying there for the rest of my life, I didn’t really have any intentions of leaving it anytime soon either. Anyway, to make a long story short, a great gig came up with the Provincial Government and I decided to seize the opportunity and start my government career. My recent health crisis has me looking at things in a different way!
That made for a very hectic six week period, starting off with my vacation in Vegas that had me snowed in for an extra three days. I don’t know if you have ever been to Vegas, but I can tell you that by the time it is time to leave you are ready to go. Regardless of how much fun you have had. The snow storm in New York that had the entire airport system shut down on the Eastern seaboard had me stranded for 3 extra days in Disneyland for adults. I actually had the opportunity to get stranded in Cleveland instead. I have never been to Cleveland, and no offense to any Clevelanders reading this, I opted to keep that trend going and lose more money playing extra Blackjack instead.
When I finally got home, I had to clue up things from my old job, then get started on my new one, take a trip to Halifax, then take a trip to Labrador and still get everything finished and started. It seems for the first time in a while I have a relaxing evening ahead of me.
Three of the four guys have finally started a new band and though we don’t have a name, for the first time that I can remember, I look forward to Mondays! Monday night is our regular rehearsal time… at the pace in which we are learning new songs, it might be fair to say we are practicing as a retirement sideline for when we hit our 60s!
So, now to Achmed… things are going pretty well, more or less. The numbness in my hand is gone; the numbness in my face is gone; the roaring in my head has stabilized; my hearing seems to have stopped getting worse; and my balance sucks. These are all good signs. The fact that my balance is so bad is actually a possible sign that Achmed is shrinking or at least relieving some of the nerve pressure and my body is readjusting to the way it used to be, pre-Achmed.
Now, just because all this is good doesn’t mean that all things are cherry in my head. For the past few weeks I have been falling out of my chair, walking into walls, nailing door-frames with my shoulder whenever I pass through one and pretty much every time I turn around, I almost fall over. In fact, I think that Achmed is indirectly, at least partially, responsible for the tendinitis I have in my right elbow. I can’t remember doing anything to actually injure my arm, but based on the tenderness of my joint and the amount of times I have hit a door-frame with it in the past few weeks, I think my recovering balance has inflicted a case of tennis elbow on me. I realize that sounds kind of funny, but I can assure you with the utmost of confidence, I am not even partially laughing.
This week, Wednesday to be specific, I am going into the MRI lab again to get an internal head-shot. They won’t really be able to tell me if the surgery was successful, but they should be able to tell me if something went terribly wrong. I guess that means that no news will be good news!
Maybe I will see if they can take a shot of my elbow while I am there.
From Achmed and Me… Live Life!
Thursday, December 31, 2009
The End of an Era...
As a rule, I hate the thought of wishing time away, but it seems for the third consecutive NY Eve I am looking forward to the fresh start that can come with a new year.
In 2007 I was looking forward to my new life as single guy, recently separated and just finished dividing up all the assets I felt like I had a chance to start over. I used to tell my friends, “40 is the new 30 and now that I am heading into my 30’s again, I am going to do things right this time.” That attitude was short lived. I soon found out that the only way I knew how to be single was to act like a 20-year-old frat boy. There is a huge difference in being 20 and being almost 40… your bank account can support the lifestyle, however your body cannot! Only a couple of months into that year I ended up in counselling and self-imposed rehab to get my head on straight again.
Then I spent a few months renovating the house to sell, which was the only tangible object holding Melanie and me together. When that was sold I spent the next six months renovating my place downtown and living in my parent’s basement… I moved into my new haunt on December 23rd, just in time to ring in the New Year. In 2008, I figured that now I had really put everything behind and was looking forward to the fresh start that can come with a new year.
So, the year of 2009 seemed to be coming along as I had hoped. I had some concert travel planned and I was comfortable in my own skin, playing lots of hockey and lots of guitar. In February the bang that came from nowhere woke the sleeping giant in my head, who we all came to know and love as Achmed. For the first couple of months, I was going through tests for post-concussion syndrome and was figuring that I might have to buy a new helmet to protect my bucket from future bangs... so no big deal.
By the time I hit my birthday on May 23rd, I felt like I was on top of the world. I had started riding a motorcycle again, in my opinion, the concussion I got playing hockey was just a little minor bump in the road and I was onto bigger and better things in all aspect of my life. I had even started to grow a shaggy mop of hair just to feel the wind blow though it again… just because I could. On June 2nd, I go the news that would change not only the rest of my year, but the way I looked at life in general.
By the time the shock of the word “tumor” had worn off, I started to look at things as a new opportunity and a new challenge. Apparently the greater powers in the universe had decided that I needed a wake-up call… that is how I ended up telling the world that life with a brain tumor is not that bad. It’s not that good, there are a lot of shitty parts, but the reality is, things could be so much worse. Over my 40 years, I have spend a lot of time whining about things that I couldn’t change and not enough time working on things that I could.
You might find this funny or probably odd, but I look at Achmed as a gift, not a curse. My eyes are so much more open that they were three years ago, or even one year ago, or six months ago, or for that matter, yesterday. I don’t take life for granted anymore, and I don’t put everything off until someday anymore. One could say that I have been living in a constant state of mental stress for over two years, and honestly, until recently I thought that myself. Now I look at it as I have been living in a constant state of learning for over two years, and my intention is to keep it that way.
So, while I am not one to make New Year’s Resolutions, this year I have decided to make one anyway… actually two. You already know about the charitable fund I am starting up in 2010, and I hope everyone here will support it, I also hope none of you ever need it. I am also going to keep making a conscious effort to pay attention and be aware of what is going on. There will be no more cruise-control for Kevin and Achmed.
Believe it or not, I think that getting a brain tumor is the best thing that has ever happened to me… but I am also glad and grateful to be putting it behind me, and again I am looking forward to the fresh start that can come with a new year.
Happy New Year!
From Achmed and Me… Live Life!
In 2007 I was looking forward to my new life as single guy, recently separated and just finished dividing up all the assets I felt like I had a chance to start over. I used to tell my friends, “40 is the new 30 and now that I am heading into my 30’s again, I am going to do things right this time.” That attitude was short lived. I soon found out that the only way I knew how to be single was to act like a 20-year-old frat boy. There is a huge difference in being 20 and being almost 40… your bank account can support the lifestyle, however your body cannot! Only a couple of months into that year I ended up in counselling and self-imposed rehab to get my head on straight again.
Then I spent a few months renovating the house to sell, which was the only tangible object holding Melanie and me together. When that was sold I spent the next six months renovating my place downtown and living in my parent’s basement… I moved into my new haunt on December 23rd, just in time to ring in the New Year. In 2008, I figured that now I had really put everything behind and was looking forward to the fresh start that can come with a new year.
So, the year of 2009 seemed to be coming along as I had hoped. I had some concert travel planned and I was comfortable in my own skin, playing lots of hockey and lots of guitar. In February the bang that came from nowhere woke the sleeping giant in my head, who we all came to know and love as Achmed. For the first couple of months, I was going through tests for post-concussion syndrome and was figuring that I might have to buy a new helmet to protect my bucket from future bangs... so no big deal.
By the time I hit my birthday on May 23rd, I felt like I was on top of the world. I had started riding a motorcycle again, in my opinion, the concussion I got playing hockey was just a little minor bump in the road and I was onto bigger and better things in all aspect of my life. I had even started to grow a shaggy mop of hair just to feel the wind blow though it again… just because I could. On June 2nd, I go the news that would change not only the rest of my year, but the way I looked at life in general.
By the time the shock of the word “tumor” had worn off, I started to look at things as a new opportunity and a new challenge. Apparently the greater powers in the universe had decided that I needed a wake-up call… that is how I ended up telling the world that life with a brain tumor is not that bad. It’s not that good, there are a lot of shitty parts, but the reality is, things could be so much worse. Over my 40 years, I have spend a lot of time whining about things that I couldn’t change and not enough time working on things that I could.
You might find this funny or probably odd, but I look at Achmed as a gift, not a curse. My eyes are so much more open that they were three years ago, or even one year ago, or six months ago, or for that matter, yesterday. I don’t take life for granted anymore, and I don’t put everything off until someday anymore. One could say that I have been living in a constant state of mental stress for over two years, and honestly, until recently I thought that myself. Now I look at it as I have been living in a constant state of learning for over two years, and my intention is to keep it that way.
So, while I am not one to make New Year’s Resolutions, this year I have decided to make one anyway… actually two. You already know about the charitable fund I am starting up in 2010, and I hope everyone here will support it, I also hope none of you ever need it. I am also going to keep making a conscious effort to pay attention and be aware of what is going on. There will be no more cruise-control for Kevin and Achmed.
Believe it or not, I think that getting a brain tumor is the best thing that has ever happened to me… but I am also glad and grateful to be putting it behind me, and again I am looking forward to the fresh start that can come with a new year.
Happy New Year!
From Achmed and Me… Live Life!
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Merry Christmas
It has been a while since I was here so just so you know, I haven't been ignoring everyone, I have just been sleeping… kind of.
In the past three weeks I have had a successful check-up with General Batten and a lengthy conference call with Janis in
The dizziness, loss of balance, numbness, jaw pain and headaches have all basically been irradiated! For me this is good… for Achmed, not so much:) I had every confidence that things would go this way, but I will admit that there were days when I was not so sure, and as positive as I have always stayed, there were certainly dark moments.
Health wise I am hoping that there won’t be too much new news over the next while. My next MRI is on April Fool’s Day… you can infer whatever you like from that. Maybe God has a sense of humour and thought that day would be fitting for me, someone who makes a joke out of pretty much everything.
I will finish the 4 Guys story and the Day of Infamy story, and let you know how my travel reimbursement from the province is going, and keep posting updates related to my progress, but they will be fewer than in the past. I have a new goal for the New Year and I will keep you all posted on the progress of that as well.
As I stated very early in my diagnosis, I am going to win and I am going to have a victory party when I do. Technically speaking, I have not been declared a survivor yet, and won’t be for another year, but as far as I am concerned, I am one now and I am putting my party plans in place. My victory party with also be the inaugural event for my new charitable fund to assist people who have to travel for medical treatment unavailable in their home province… So basically, you are all invited and you will all have to pay to get in. For those of you who are geographically challenged for attendance, we are hoping to have an online donation site set up so you can virtually attend… or at least give us your money:)
There are a lot of details to work out for this project, but based on the support I have been given over the past eight months, I have no doubt that this will be successful and be helping people in tough financial and medical positions in no time.
For now, I hope that you all have a wonderful Christmas and enjoy your family and friend time over the holiday season.
2010 is going to be the best year yet!
From Achmed and Me… Merry Christmas and Live Life!
Thursday, December 3, 2009
The Slow Deal to Heal...
If all of you know only one thing about me it is probably that I am a pretty active person. Between work, hockey, gym, guitar, seasonal activities and a social life, pretty much the only time I stop is to sleep.
Until a month ago, sleep was something that I did when I was either too tired to do anything else or I knew I had to squeeze in a few hours because tomorrow is going be a big day, it was my relaxation time. Over the past year or two I have learned that you need to make time for relaxing and quieting your mind and over the past month or so I have learned that you need to do the same thing for sleep.
I have been feeling pretty good over the last couple of weeks, particularly over the past few days. Everyday I feel stronger and healthier and closer to returning to myself. Everyday I am greeted with the renewed disappointment that I am only human and sleep is a requirement that is needed to live life. Everyday I feel like I discover all over again that I need 8 to 9 hours sleep just to function. Everyday I seem to find out for the first time again, just how mentally draining the simple task of reading is.
At times I feel like I could jump over the moon. I have been back to the gym for two weeks now and my routine is getting closer to where it was when I went to Winnipeg for the nuclear blast. I have played hockey for the past two Wednesdays, although not well and everyone is giving me a wide berth on the ice, but at least I am on skates again. Physically I feel like I am regaining my life to the point where it was before all this happened to me... mentally is a whole different issue.
I love to read for pleasure and I also do a lot of reading for work. Imagine how frustrating it is for me to realize that reading two pages of something that I am actually really interested in, is enough to put me to sleep. Because of the nature of my job, and the fact that I have been back in the office for a couple of weeks now, I seem to be getting more tired as time goes on instead of more energetic. People keep telling me to take my time and don’t push my recovery, and in general I agree with them, but they are thinking of the physical pressure I put on myself, not the mental. Physically I feel great and would recommend radiation surgery to everyone (ok, not really, but it is not as hard on your body as you might think), but my brain is tired. If I am not in bed asleep by 11:00, I am not able to get out of bed before 10:00 the next morning. That may not matter on a Friday or Saturday, but there are seven day in the week and for five of them I have to completely readjust my lifestyle... at least temporarily.
Some people may think, “you are getting old, time to slow down.” Well, to those of you who honestly believe that, I have one thing to say... Bite Me! If you are healthy, age is an attitude and once my head heals, I don’t plan on sleeping for ten or eleven hours every day.
Today I have to go see Dr. Batten for the first time since I got back from Winnipeg. The last time I saw him he told me I would be able to be right back to all of my usual activities a week after my surgery. I am thinking that neither he, nor any of his patients with this tumor, lives a very active lifestyle.
From Achmed and Me... Live Life!
Until a month ago, sleep was something that I did when I was either too tired to do anything else or I knew I had to squeeze in a few hours because tomorrow is going be a big day, it was my relaxation time. Over the past year or two I have learned that you need to make time for relaxing and quieting your mind and over the past month or so I have learned that you need to do the same thing for sleep.
I have been feeling pretty good over the last couple of weeks, particularly over the past few days. Everyday I feel stronger and healthier and closer to returning to myself. Everyday I am greeted with the renewed disappointment that I am only human and sleep is a requirement that is needed to live life. Everyday I feel like I discover all over again that I need 8 to 9 hours sleep just to function. Everyday I seem to find out for the first time again, just how mentally draining the simple task of reading is.
At times I feel like I could jump over the moon. I have been back to the gym for two weeks now and my routine is getting closer to where it was when I went to Winnipeg for the nuclear blast. I have played hockey for the past two Wednesdays, although not well and everyone is giving me a wide berth on the ice, but at least I am on skates again. Physically I feel like I am regaining my life to the point where it was before all this happened to me... mentally is a whole different issue.
I love to read for pleasure and I also do a lot of reading for work. Imagine how frustrating it is for me to realize that reading two pages of something that I am actually really interested in, is enough to put me to sleep. Because of the nature of my job, and the fact that I have been back in the office for a couple of weeks now, I seem to be getting more tired as time goes on instead of more energetic. People keep telling me to take my time and don’t push my recovery, and in general I agree with them, but they are thinking of the physical pressure I put on myself, not the mental. Physically I feel great and would recommend radiation surgery to everyone (ok, not really, but it is not as hard on your body as you might think), but my brain is tired. If I am not in bed asleep by 11:00, I am not able to get out of bed before 10:00 the next morning. That may not matter on a Friday or Saturday, but there are seven day in the week and for five of them I have to completely readjust my lifestyle... at least temporarily.
Some people may think, “you are getting old, time to slow down.” Well, to those of you who honestly believe that, I have one thing to say... Bite Me! If you are healthy, age is an attitude and once my head heals, I don’t plan on sleeping for ten or eleven hours every day.
Today I have to go see Dr. Batten for the first time since I got back from Winnipeg. The last time I saw him he told me I would be able to be right back to all of my usual activities a week after my surgery. I am thinking that neither he, nor any of his patients with this tumor, lives a very active lifestyle.
From Achmed and Me... Live Life!
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Oct 28... A Day That Will Live in Infamy – Part Two
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!
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
October 28... a Day That Will Live in Infamy - Part One
By the time evening had settled on the sleepy town of Winnipeg, that cold autumn day, my head felt like the Japanese fighter pilots, in this case Dr. West and his team, had blasted the shit of the landscape know as my brain. Unlike Pearl Harbour, it won’t go down in the annals of history as the great battle that awoke a sleeping giant in the Second World War, however, it will never be forgotten in the my own personal battle with Achmed!
Oddly enough, instead of waking me (not that I am considered a giant by many people over the age of two) it pretty much put me to sleep for two weeks. Today, almost four weeks post-nuclear blast, I am finally starting to feel like I have survived the surgery and my life is starting to get back to normal. I still get tired easily, and mornings are more often harder than easier, but the dizziness is gone; the headaches are really tame for the most part; the jaw burning in not as regular as it was; my hand numbness has dwindled down to a slight tingle and the numbness in my face has lessened. I have about a 30% hearing loss in my right ear, and that is permanent, but it seems to be stable.
In the picture above, Achmed is painted red to easily pick out. The white mass he is pressing up against is my brainstem... enough said!
The events of October 28, 2009 are etched into my memory like a diamond cutting glass. Every smell, movement, conversation, needle, sound and worry are still lingering in the back of my mind. The day of my surgical blast, there were two other people on my ward getting treated as well... unfortunately for them, their prognosis was not nearly as positive as mine. If I didn’t know how lucky I am before I got out of bed that day, I certainly knew how lucky I am by the time I got back in it.
My day started with a 4:30 alarm. Even on a good day, that is not really a great way to begin... when you know that the potential, however small it may be, is that this may be the last time you ever actually get out of bed, you savour every moment of hauling your tired ass to the shower. I think I felt every drop of hot, steamy water run down my skin that morning, and I don’t believe I could name a moment in time when my senses were more in-tune with my surroundings. Only if I could have been on top of a mountain, or lying on a hot sunny beach, or at a concert... it almost seems like a waste of an experience for that sensation to be in a clean and comfortable hotel room.
The drive to the hospital was uneventful... there is not a lot of traffic on the road at 5am. By 6am I was in my hospital bed getting my vitals taken for the record. With a heart rate of 51 and an almost perfect blood pressure, Janis the nurse decided that I was calm and coherent and DID NOT need a sedative... and the valium that I was looking forward to, and possibly the only thing that I was looking forward to other than this whole mess being over, was taken from my grasp like snatching candy from a young child. I am pretty sure that the expression on my face would have been the same as that young child if I had been allowed to have a coffee and was completely awake!
Then Lynn the nurse showed up at my bed with a tray that looked similar to the torture tray that you see at the dentist office. She then took the liberty of inserting the biggest needle I had ever seen, directly into my arm, which was to stay there for the whole day so it could serve as a sort of needle port for all of my needles. This needle port was in the bend of my left elbow, and even though I was technically allowed to bend my arm, every time I did, the pain shot though me like a bolt of lightening. If I had been older and out of shape, they may have thought I was having a heart attack the first time it happened.
After all this was ready, it was time for “Meet the Surgeons” which is nothing like “Meet the Press” for any of you who watch that show. Obviously I had met Dr. West, but I still had to meet Dr. Schroder. These two guys are the nicest, most helpful people, and hopefully and by all accounts, the best at their trade. That doesn’t change the fact that I hope I never see either one of them again, especially when the literal translation to “meet the surgeons” is “go get a halo brace installed in your skull”.
Oddly enough, instead of waking me (not that I am considered a giant by many people over the age of two) it pretty much put me to sleep for two weeks. Today, almost four weeks post-nuclear blast, I am finally starting to feel like I have survived the surgery and my life is starting to get back to normal. I still get tired easily, and mornings are more often harder than easier, but the dizziness is gone; the headaches are really tame for the most part; the jaw burning in not as regular as it was; my hand numbness has dwindled down to a slight tingle and the numbness in my face has lessened. I have about a 30% hearing loss in my right ear, and that is permanent, but it seems to be stable.
In the picture above, Achmed is painted red to easily pick out. The white mass he is pressing up against is my brainstem... enough said!
The events of October 28, 2009 are etched into my memory like a diamond cutting glass. Every smell, movement, conversation, needle, sound and worry are still lingering in the back of my mind. The day of my surgical blast, there were two other people on my ward getting treated as well... unfortunately for them, their prognosis was not nearly as positive as mine. If I didn’t know how lucky I am before I got out of bed that day, I certainly knew how lucky I am by the time I got back in it.
My day started with a 4:30 alarm. Even on a good day, that is not really a great way to begin... when you know that the potential, however small it may be, is that this may be the last time you ever actually get out of bed, you savour every moment of hauling your tired ass to the shower. I think I felt every drop of hot, steamy water run down my skin that morning, and I don’t believe I could name a moment in time when my senses were more in-tune with my surroundings. Only if I could have been on top of a mountain, or lying on a hot sunny beach, or at a concert... it almost seems like a waste of an experience for that sensation to be in a clean and comfortable hotel room.
The drive to the hospital was uneventful... there is not a lot of traffic on the road at 5am. By 6am I was in my hospital bed getting my vitals taken for the record. With a heart rate of 51 and an almost perfect blood pressure, Janis the nurse decided that I was calm and coherent and DID NOT need a sedative... and the valium that I was looking forward to, and possibly the only thing that I was looking forward to other than this whole mess being over, was taken from my grasp like snatching candy from a young child. I am pretty sure that the expression on my face would have been the same as that young child if I had been allowed to have a coffee and was completely awake!
Then Lynn the nurse showed up at my bed with a tray that looked similar to the torture tray that you see at the dentist office. She then took the liberty of inserting the biggest needle I had ever seen, directly into my arm, which was to stay there for the whole day so it could serve as a sort of needle port for all of my needles. This needle port was in the bend of my left elbow, and even though I was technically allowed to bend my arm, every time I did, the pain shot though me like a bolt of lightening. If I had been older and out of shape, they may have thought I was having a heart attack the first time it happened.
After all this was ready, it was time for “Meet the Surgeons” which is nothing like “Meet the Press” for any of you who watch that show. Obviously I had met Dr. West, but I still had to meet Dr. Schroder. These two guys are the nicest, most helpful people, and hopefully and by all accounts, the best at their trade. That doesn’t change the fact that I hope I never see either one of them again, especially when the literal translation to “meet the surgeons” is “go get a halo brace installed in your skull”.
I need to take a break now, lunch is over and I am starting to get queasy thinking about the next part.
From Achmed and Me... Live Life!
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