Captain’s Log at 6 months: How to Prepare for “Minor” Brain Surgery

June 30, 2017

I know it’s been all quiet on the Western Front for a while… I thought I just needed a week or so to get back on track and, well… that’s a different story. But here we are. Two months later.

To catch up as efficiently as possible:

Mom was here in Buffalo with me for all of April, then she returned to Stafford, VA where she has continued recovery and gaining strength. Her progress has been remarkable by any available metric! She’s walking every day (and often up to two miles!) with company, but without assistance. At first they walked in the street because it offered less of a struggle in terms of obstacles and literal stumbling blocks. The way she described walking to me was: “My head has become so heavy, that I literally feel like each time I lift a foot, it’s floating. I know I’ve barely lifted my foot but I might as well have kicked it out from under me because in comparison to my head, my feet just don’t weigh enough. So I’m all out of balance, and really, it’s like I can’t even find my feet for keeping my head on!” So at first they walked with a walker, then a cane (which she still used fairly regularly in April) and then on to just having a friendly arm nearby, and now she fairly well trucks under her own steam! And she is feeling so much more secure, that she now walks up on the sidewalk, challenging her sense of space! She still stumbles once in a while, but she is getting better and better at catching herself.

It helps that she’s been working with an eye doctor in NoVA who has fitted her with a pair of faceted lenses that correct for the double vision and have helped bring some of her depth perception back. About a month ago, the frames finally arrived. There was no sense ordering them too soon, because her brain wouldn’t have healed enough and the prescription would have been entirely wrong. But finally it was time and then finally they arrived. The first two days were so frustrating because they didn’t seem to make a difference and she was so disappointed. But on day 3, she woke up to DRASTICALLY better vision and, well… the only way I can describe her reaction was that it was as if she had gotten REALLY HIGH. I mean this in the kindest, most loving, way. If she could have skipped, she would have. The glasses have made such a difference.

 

Believe it or not, she’s back in the studio a LOT already. I have my reservations about how hard she’s pushing herself, but the army of friends and loved ones around her seem to do an amazing job of keeping her in check. It’s still hard for her to concentrate and focus. Unbelievably hard, actually. The more crowded and busy the studio is, the harder it is for her to work. But I see the effort she’s making paying off in a myriad of small ways — everything from memory retention to her physical sense of space.

 

And that really summarizes the last two months. Sort of. You know, almost. I mean, can you even summarize anything in this situation? So, like… it’s the best summary I can make without a case of beer and a bonfire. Or a pot of coffee and a box of fresh donuts. Either option is about equal to me these days.

Days have just flown by in the drudgery of getting up, pushing hard, and getting through another day.

“Minor” Brain Surgery

So here we are at that follow-up surgery that we always knew was on its way.

Did you know that there’s such a thing as ‘minor’ brain surgery? The initial problem that caused this whole episode (I usually refer to it as “that day you got hit by a bus.” I know she’s more tired than usual when she replies, “Is that what happened? I don’t remember…” Then it takes every ounce of self-control I have not to say, “Actually, you got trampled by camo-unicorns with laser beam eyes.”)

As usual, I’ve gotten side-tracked.

So the initial problem was the AV malformation or fistula in the back of her brain. Which, to jog all’y’all’s memory where the arteries and veins essentially don’t have enough filtration via the capillary system to function properly. So it creates something like a high pressure system hitting a low pressure system. Or the white rapids suddenly getting emptied into the lazy river.

So the girl just needs more glue to close that up.

And who on EARTH would turn down the opportunity to have a little bit more glue to hold their brain together?!?! I know I could use a wee bit, myself. I was sort of hoping we could do a two for the price of one thing.

Alas. They only want to play with Mom’s brain.

It’s almost an outpatient thing. She goes in, gets some anesthesia, and they go in laproscopically and glue her up. They’ll go in very cautiously and if it seems like her brain can’t take it, they’ll pull back out and give it a go some other time. But usually they can do this in one go. They don’t anticipate any complications because she’s strong and she’s been working hard. The chance of complications is about 5% and could include bleeding or even a stroke of some sort. They are poking her brain, after all. But again, she’s been working really hard to get strong and that really counts for something here.

Now, if she elected NOT to have this surgery. She’s practically guaranteed to get hit by a bus (or trampled by camo-unicorns with laser beam eyes) again. At least a 35% chance in the next 5 years, but stress and high blood pressure and lack of sleep would all exacerbate that number, and we all know my mom… the better she gets the harder she’ll push it… and what are the chances that she’ll survive that crash the second time around? Let’s just say not good.

So, pardon me, but this is sort of a no-brainer!

HA! I crack myself up.

So Tuesday, July 11th is the day. They’ll keep her overnight in the same ICU ward where we spent most of this journey. So she might recognize some of her caretakers. (Eh, who am I kidding? Probably not. In all fairness, they might not recognize her either she looks so different these days!)

Side effects are unlikely. And it won’t be like taking a backwards slide either. Really, she’ll just have to sleep off the anesthesia. Then she’ll just keep on keeping on. Almost frustrating, really, right? To have a surgery that seems to have no outward impact one way or the other?

She has some preparation homework. Special antibacterial soap and things to use leading up to the day.

And I’d like to ask for everyone’s continued prayers and support leading up to the day. I have to believe that we made it here because of your support. And I’m confident that we’ll make it through this because it’s still there. And I’m more grateful than I can ever say, and I don’t know that she even knows how to process the outpouring of love. But if you ever needed proof of the power of prayer… she’s it.

My love and undying gratitude to all of you for getting us here. The next step is finally here. It’s just a wee hurdle; I’m looking forward to the other side!

xoxoxoxo

Megan (& Colleen!)

 

P.S.  Want to go back and reminisce? I uploaded all the “Captain’s Log” entries onto my blog here ( http://www.mcelfglassworks.com/category/familyledgers/captainslog/ ) in its very own category for you to peruse.