McDreaming of Sinuses

Day 7 - Demise of Louis B Leaky

I wake up in Surgical Recovery. I don't have a window seat. Rip-off. From my "second row" bed I can see the panorama of Bondi Beach. Oh what I would give for that window view. That guy isn't even conscious yet, why can't I have his place? I must say this out loud, because now they move me. But back to my room.

My head isn't as "full" as it was after the first surgery. My nose is not packed. It feels like I have a bad cold. But I'm happy to get back to Jell-o and bendy straws! Hey, did I remember to order ice cream for lunch?

More later as the night nurse has arrived with my nigh-nigh shot!

McDreamy will fix it

Day 3 - 5 - Visitors

The word is out. I can taste the Jell-o. They know this.  So They want to come; to visit me in my tofu-pink room with the round bathroom and the flower vase picture that looks like Spanish cows at a fiesta.

I desperately need some conversation, so I agree. They come from all corners of the city, bearing Globe Banana Smoothies, flowers and jokes.  Ah, it's good to see you guys. And it's great to know that I wasn't the only person in the room on painkillers.

But now the nerve endings are starting to act up. I'm getting tired. Thanks guys for coming. Have a great Independence Day celebration. I welcome the Fentanyl shot in the butt, and drift off to the pain train.

On Monday, the surgeon who will plaster my brain in from the outside arrives to explain the procedure. He is McDreamy. He's 6 foot 4, blond, 40 ish with beautiful teeth.  Yup, he is going to plaster my brain in.

Technically, he is going to use my sinuses. The procedure sounds a little bit like icing a cake with a ginsu knife via a webcam. He can do the procedure on Wednesday morning. I have an entire day to drip brain juice.

Days 5 & 6 - Liquids

In the meantime, the nurses and I have a new obsession.  Liquid consumption.  And not the good kind even. We're not talking about white versus red or vodka versus gin martini.  We're talking about "How much liquid is in broth?  or Jello??" And what is with my new requirement of ice and bendy straws? Why do I constantly need a cold supply of near-frozen liquid sliding behind my crusty sinuses? Is this a factor of hormonal imbalance, or just a way to soothe those crusty sinuses? And I have to suck everything through the bendy straw. Those beautiful blue, elbow straws that transport the icy cold liquid from the glass bottom to that raw spot behind my nose. And oh so quickly.

And measuring. Everything has to be measured. In and Out. Yay. So my two days are ice, measuring, Fentinyl Pain Train and trying to stretch. I even got up on Sunday night and bugged the night nurse for a cup of tea. Feeling better, just in time for a new surgery.

On Tuesday night I board the Pain Train without my bendy straw, because no liquids are allowed, and I dream of McDreamy plastering my sinuses.

Tomorrow, surgery number two.

The Operation was a success, but...

The mission: Brain surgery to remove or drain a benign pituitary tumour. Vision was blurred by pressure by said tumour on the optic nerve. 

Time from first appointment to surgery: 2 weeks. 9 June until surgery on 23 June.

Expected hospital time: 5-7 days

Expected Recovery time: 2-3 weeks, until return to work.

The best laid plans.

I kept my sense of humour. I made a big joke about brain surgery not being rocket science (it isn't). I bit the bullet and accepted that I would be away from work without pay, and in the middle of the busiest part of the project. I named the tumour and toasted his demise.

Day 1: The Surgery and ICU

The surgery goes well. Tumour drained and no issues with interference in the brain. Whew! I wake up in Intensive Care, as planned, with ice chips and 47 lines and tubes in my body. Then they offer me the pain killers.

First up, morphine. Why do they always start with the harshest? We might give you a little nausea medication with that too.

What's that? Urrrrp. Oh yeah, vomiting is probably not a good idea. Sorry about that. Hmm, that may actually disturb the stitching holding your brain together.  Let's try another, with the nausea meds, how about some Endone/ Oxycodone? Urrrp. No, that's not good either.

Hey, now my head REALLY hurts. Pounding.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" 

"I'm not really sure... I see 1, but it's kinda double."

"HOW MANY FINGERS???!!!"

Wow, I didn't know there was a right or wrong answer. Are ICU doctors allowed to yell at you?

By now, I think it's about 10pm, but I can't be sure. Greg has gone home. I have ice chips and some waterlogged sponge-on-a-stick to suck on. I can't breathe through my nose.

The evening nurse, male, lifts me up onto the transport bed. We're headed to CT. Apparently the "double" thing is a problem. As I move over, a massive power surge hits each thigh and each side of my back above my hips. It's a 10 on the pain scale. But it's quick and it's gone. Like me, down to CT.

When I get back, they are discussing the pain relief options again.  I just want to sleep without dry mouth. There are 6-8 people around. Drawing blood, checking my reflexes, observations, blood gases. They find a non-morphine based one, and I sleep.

Jeanie the night nurse comes in a couple times to make sure I'm improving. In the morning, Dr McFatherly comes in and explains that I have an air pocket on my brain. It was probably caused by the drain in my back installed to relieve the pressure.  It's done the opposite, and sucked air directly into my brain.  They clamp off the drain. Air in the brain can dry your brain out. That's not good. I need a nice moist brain. They send me to CT again on the way out of ICU and into my regular private room.

Day 2-3: This both Sucks and Blows.

The second CT shows the air pocket is getting smaller. My head hurts less, but laying in the same position is starting to take its toll. The muscles are tightening and the nerves in my legs are getting irritated. I still can't breath through my nose, because of the lovely packing. But now, the wonderful folks from the kitchen have brought the world's best tasting Jell-o for my enjoyment.  Well, maybe it's because I haven't eaten in 48 hours.

On Saturday, Mark the ward nurse pulls the packing from my nose.  It takes about an hour and enough g-force to launch a space shuttle. Afterward, I can actually tell what flavour the Jell-o is.

Shortly after the packing comes out, I can feel the dripping. Slow, methodical in the back of my throat. Comes toward my nose if my head is moved forward.

In the meantime, we are still experimenting with pain meds. Pethidine/ Demerol is up next. It relaxes me and takes the pain away, but I have weird dreams. I want to put the pain on a "pain train" and then have it pull away.  Then I sleep.

They give me a specimen jar to capture anything that comes out of my nose. We are looking for a brain fluid leak. It is clear with a yellowish halo. After a few captures, I'm pretty sure that's what I'm looking at. McFatherly comes in and concurs. He needs another surgeon to plug the hole. This really blows.