What’s for supper? Vol. 482: Not my problem

Hello! Happy Friday! Happy DEFINITELY RECOVERING NOW day to me! 

My brain tumor craniotomy was nine days ago, and it went very well. I’ll share some medical details next, for those who find such things interesting!

They removed a piece of skull, detached as much of the tumor as possible, leaving only “a nubbin” the size of a grain of rice; reattached the skull bit with some titanium discs and hardware, and stapled my head back up with 41 staples. They also put in a lumbar drain to lower spinal fluid pressure during the procedure, and that needed to be stitched up. I had needles throughout my scalp during surgery to monitor brain activity, and I had a complex rig on my arm to track my blood pressure directly from my arteries. The surgery took about four-and-a-half hours,  and I either did or did not have a seizure during it (the notes are confusing!), but I’ve been on medication to keep that from happening or happening again. I was in the ICU for three days and then moved to the regular neurology wing for another two days. I am still waiting to hear on the pathology report, but I am expecting confirmation the tumor was benign, and I may not even need radiation for what remains. 

I am so, so glad to be home. Recovery has been one step forward, two steps back. The pain level is gradually receding, and so is the amount of time it feels really bad each day; and the nerves on the left side of my face are slowly waking up. My left eye, which wasn’t acting right because of the tumor, is totally functional again. I can’t really chew yet, but luckily I have always been a big fan of soft foods, so I’m having all the gruel, beans, and smoothies I want. I am just feeling a little, little bit more like myself every day, for better or for worse! 

I haven’t been accomplishing a single thing. I’m trying to walk around the yard once or twice a day to keep away blood clots and whatnot. My friend Sadie came over when I got home, and she got us set up with a medication schedule and tracking system, and spent the night to make sure we were all okay. One of the kids’ teachers sent home some delicious quiche and salad and bread and butter. The kids have all been pitching in, and Damien took the kids back-to-school shopping and has been getting everyone to school and work on time, keeping me supplied with hot packs and cold packs and endless pillows and drinks, and just basically making sure my body and mind are completely at rest while he takes care of everything. A ton of people sent donations to help us pay for all the gas and meds and to make it possible for Damien to care for me and the kids without getting in too much of a pickle, and we REALLY appreciate that, and all the prayers and words of encouragement.

I feel so incredibly lucky to know so many generous and helpful people. At the hospital, I met a few folks (Jennifer and Paul. Please remember them in your prayers!) who just don’t have anything like this level of support. All of the nurses were nice and caring, and a few of them were really extraordinary. It’s a great hospital, and again, I feel really lucky. And happy to be home. Because even a really good hospital kind of sucks. 

There were a couple of times when the pain and fear really overwhelmed me (specifically, in the immediate post-surgery MRI, and one of my first evenings at home), and you know, at a certain point the jokes and lessons and well-expressed thoughts run out, and you’re just up against the wall with suffering, and the only thing to hang onto is the hope Jesus is there somewhere. Some of you guys end up in this spot a lot, and I am just in awe of you. 

I also gotta say, I do not see the appeal of oxycodone. I am glad I have it, because it makes the pain manageable, but everything else it does sucks, and I’m really looking forward to getting off it. There’s no joy in it at all; it just tucks normal human experience up on a high shelf where you can’t touch it. 

I’m supposed to get my staples and stitches out on September 3, and then I have another MRI in October. In the mean time, I have an actual metal question mark traced out on the side of my head, which just seems fair. I must say, the surgeon did a neat job doing a rather cute undercut, so my hair actually looks pretty normal. I may go to Supercuts and get the them to shave a matching pattern on the other side! Or maybe I will just have some more bean soup. 

And that’s my story! Thank you so much to everyone who has reached out. I am praying for you all!

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