You know, last week I was thinking I ought to post an update on my recovery. When I start getting emails and messages about how I am doing, I know it’s time.
Besides the uncomfortable nature of physical and occupational therapy, up nail last week, things were going quite swimmingly!
Well, Here are four words I never expected to say;
I had brain surgery!
Yep, after a x-ray, a doctor’s appointment, and right before an arm therapy session, I had a moment where I could not speak.
Now, my darling wife, who’s put up with me for several decades, generally has no trouble understanding in-complete sentences, partial words, and nonverbal communication. She understood completely what I was trying to communicate and it wasn’t until I was able to, with great difficulty, utter “I’m having an episode”, that she realized I wasn’t just being peculiar!
Without growing into great detail, I was able to say things aren’t quite right and we called my general practitioner. Of course his schedule was jammed up, but his office manager Tammy, suggested we go directly to the emergency room.
Of course, since we were already at the arm therapy session, I went ahead and subjected myself to that trauma before heading down to one of the Cleveland Clinics emergency facilities.
That team whisked me off to a cat scan and told me that it appeared I had some complications from my June 22nd accident and that I was going to be transported to the main campus via helicopter. I really wasn’t too happy about that because I just had taken a helicopter ride in June, and with insurance being what it is, I did not look forward to having an arguments with some unknown, nameless, person at the end of the year trying to collect tens of thousands of dollars from me, but they were persistent, and told me the helicopter was already in flight.
I can tell you the new helicopters that the clinic just bought this year are really snappy. The flight crew look like something you might expect to encounter on extraction mission in some foreign country. I was predominantly communicating with a bad ass lady whose name was Shay, and we mostly were doing the cool thumbs up and thumbs downs signals for how I felt. It was a great smooth ride and no time at all, I was being wheeled out of the back of the helicopter, across the roof of the clinic and into a neurosurgery ICU.
Everybody kept asking me where I was at, the date, and what were we doing? I mean, like six or seven times! Being the smart ass that I am, I started saying things like we were in Nova Scotia, and it was always sunny in Cleveland. In spite of my own sense of entertainment, these folks did not see any humor in my response.
It didn’t take long for things to get real interesting. The first IV was un-eventful, but establishing an arterial line was a whole different matter. There was quite a mess. In addition to the repeated questions about where I was, the year and what we were doing, I heard the mention of a familiar name, and I realized I knew the surgeon who was taking me under his care, it also became apparent that I was going to have brain surgery.
Well, we can skip over a lot of the details but I hope you find a few things entertaining. First off, I had 34 wires superglued to my scalp, and upon inquiry, I found they would be removed the following day with acetone. I smelled like a body shop.
As it turned out, the lady gluing the wires was part of a team monitoring a computer lab hooked up to over 200 other patients.
Could the Cleveland Clinic be behind AI?
I also learned that my veins don’t like to surrender their precious cargo. I was one for five on the second IV, and the Clinic has a two IV protocol for ICU patients. This got much worse as my stay continued ultimately resulting in a 3 out of 13 return.
I won’t bore you with anymore details, however funny I found them to be, other than the surgery was a success and I was dismissed on Monday.
Tuesday morning I felt fantastic, in-spite of my left arm and hand not working due to the brachial plexus issue. Being the moderate individual I am, I completely overdid it.
When I say I overdid it, I mean I start having “gee I better start saying goodbye to people” feelings. But hey, I’m a storyteller and song writer and prone to a little hyperbole.
I am doing ok, resting in a little old man recliner, and being thankful for all the loving friends and family I have.