Hello all, and happy Memorial Day weekend --
Pre-surgery, one thing I found highly interesting and useful on the forums were people's descriptions of What Really Happened, so I'd like to return the favor as best I can. I am now exactly two weeks out and doing (in my view, but also Dr Delashaw's) really well. I'll wrap up with the status report he gave me at my Friday afternoon check-up.
Pre-surgery
I ended up with quite short notice before my surgery, barely a week. While it took almost a month for the scheduler at Dr Delashaw's office to get me in to meet him (on Apr 24), things moved quickly after that. Because I felt quite confident I wanted to get that little bugger out of there, we did all labs and bloodwork on 4/24, just in case.
The office calledl on May 6th, offering either May 13 or May 20 for surgery. Since I saw no point in sitting around giving myself even more time to get worried and fretful, I chose the 13th; the bloodwork had revealed the possibility of a UTI or similar, so the office faxed in a three-day course of Bactrim to my local pharmacy to start immediately. I booked two hotel stays: two nights at the Inn at Cherry Hill, attached to Swedish Medical Center, for the night before surgery and surgery day for my husband, and five days at the Ramada Inn around the corner from our home in Olympia post-discharge.
I told my bosses the date the next morning; because I'd given them earlier advice about what might be coming my way, we had a plan in place to cover my work for three to six weeks. I tell you, breaking the news to my colleagues was a little crazy (note to self, leading with the joke about rocket science vs brain surgery may have eased my tension, but not necessarily theirs!). While I told my oldest friends, including two who were in on the news back in March, I opted not to tell my 90-year-old parents, as the weekend was Mother's Day. Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission this time, I reckoned...
Day before
I didn't get a check-in time until the morning of the 12th: 5:45am, which Dr Delashaw's nurse told me meant that'd I'd be first or second on the roster -- which was fine by me, as I wanted to get it over with and not hang around pre-op worrying myself silly. A brief detour through despair when Dr Backous's nurse phone with a contradictory check-in of 10am... swiftly reversed an hour later back to 5:45. We set off later than we should have, and ended up dashing around Seattle looking for a Safeway to buy something light but protein-rich for supper by 9pm.
The "Inn" turned out to be a converted hospital wing, and was about as uncomfortable as possible short of a prison cell. Two single beds, with insufficient space between them for my husband's wheelchair, no w/c access to the bathroom, which had no shelves or anywhere to park the bottle of Hibiclens soap. A big sign warned me to start the water running 20 minutes before hot water was wanted, which spewed from a single unpointable nozzle like a firehose. Those two pre-surgery showers were the nadir: I ended up shaking like a leaf most of the night, with my hair coiled in a towel like a turban. The sliver of sky and view of the Space Needle outside the window didn't compensate.
Surgery day
Still, it meant I was up and at the check-in desk bang slap on time. We were ushered through to the first pre-op area shortly after 6:15am. Change to gown, confirm what we're doing with the surgical resident from Dr Delashaw's office, chat with nurse about places we've lived... Time for one last post to CaringBridge from me at 8:15am, then relinquish iPhone and gear to husband, and wheeled off to surgical prep. Met with the highly charming and original Dr Z, the anesthesiologist, and the calming pre-surgery nurses; I concentrated on picturing all my posse gathering around the cubicle to wish me luck. Then off to the surgical suite, where I helped scoot myself onto the surgical bed, and with one last smile from Dr Z and Dr Delashaw, off to the races... for them anyway.
By 11:30am, my husband posted to CaringBridge that surgery was complete and I was moving to Recovery. He wrote: "She has come through with her facial nerves intact & more hearing than expected. The down side - the balance nerve had to be cut -But - that can be compensated for over time - Loads of physio. Should be able to see her in two hours." I honestly don't remember much about recovery, but was installed in my ICU room by late afternoon. I'm a chatterbox when worried or trying to distract myself from illness; late that night, spouse posted "she's going to be kind of rough all of tonight [spit up her snack twice]. Doctor checked up on her while I was there & was happy with the reactions she found. The incision is~3" & they didn't shave much hair from the site. L says she feels like she just drank a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster & that the shore is rocking up and down while the ocean stands still."
Post-surgery to today...
Care in the ICU was kind, attentive, somewhat confusing, and reassuring. I quite like people telling me that my temperature is normal enough and yes, I can have another pain-killer/anti-nausea IV cocktail in just one short hour. The only fly in the ointment was the changing cast of P/T folks -- each with their own inspired trick to make me dizzy and spit up my meagre meals. (Have I mentioned how much I dreaded feeling sick? Well, it was no fun, but my trusty little tray within finger reach kept me from mussing myself and the bed...) It took me and the nurses most of two days to fine-tune the schedule of anti-nausea meds relative to food (chicken rice soup, Ensure, jello -- only that latter tasted at all 'good', to the degree that I whiled away one pre-dawn stretch of wakefullness concocting multi-layered Jello recipes I'd be sure to try as soon as I got home) relative to visits from the P/T. Getting up walking was a landmark I was eager to achieve, but the double-vision and tilty-wheel balance made those walks down the hospital corridor a real effort... thankfully, it got easier with each attempt.
The double-vision resolved almost with an audible 'snap' Thursday morning; only when I was really tired did it return, and then mostly in the form of being unable to see the fingers held just outside of my vision range by the doctors. Lots of stroking and patting face, fingers, feet, to reassure us all that sensation was retained and as expected. I wouldn't have called it "numb or tingling," just a little odd on the right, surgical, side. This has persisted, and I now know that I'll have some lingering weakness in the squint/wink/spit until it too resolves... which could be a snap or could wear off over many weeks. My cheesy grin remains strong.
It took all day Thursday to find a bed in the main body of the hospital; the only time things felt chaotic was the last couple of hours in ICU, when the charge nurse and my primary nurse tried to force one last round of meds through an IV that was plainly having 'issues' (the bruise still runs up my left inner arm) because they didn't just those ordinary nursing types to do so... thence racing my bed through the sleepy 10pm corridors of the hospital to grab a newly emptied room in a tower that felt miles away. That's when I learned I could keep my eyes open without being utterly disoriented.
My stay in the main hospital room was remarkably short, just long enough for a new IV to go in on the other arm, a 7am visit from the neurosurgery residents asking if I wanted to go home a day early, and some crazy phone calls to my husband about the change of plans. I was offered a hot shower, with or without assistance; I accepted it, but somehow ended up doing my own shower after all, without incident thanks to a nice sturdy shower bench. Spouse showed up at lunchtime, and we shared my grilled cheese sandwich (jaw just didn't open enough to eat it without knife and fork). Out the door by 3pm, into our little Saturn Ion for a nice long ride home in Friday afternoon commute traffic... I kept my eyes shut for quite a bit of it, but was able to get out of the car to top up the gas tank (and buy some Italian orange soda) halfway home, so I guess my posse was right when they said I was one tough cookie.
About the Ramada: The presurgical consultation with Delashaw's office laid LOTS of emphasis on the pristine environment one's surgical site should be treated to: fresh pillowcases and towels daily, change sheets every other day, no reclining on the incision, no pets, no dust, no... Our house is a petrie dish of pet fur, and they sleep on me and the pillows as they darn well see fit (or bang the bedroom door all night to be let in), so I opted for four or five nights at a hotel where someone else would do the sheets thing daily. The parking lot was a safe place to walk round and round in the middle of the day, and when I progressed to crossing streets, was close to home so I could visit the cats and birdfeeders. One weird thing: the smell of the Ramada's cleaning products grew so strong over the course of our stay that I was unable to sleep the last night. Was it they cleaned more, or my nose finally started rejoining the rest of my senses?
10-day checkup on 5/23
Dr Delashaw is happy with progress overall, and gave me parting orders along the lines of 'go forth and enjoy your life'. I'll go back to Joyce and get some pointers on P/T that will help with balance turning in tight spots -- straight-line walking is pretty good already. I can perceive quietly snapped fingers on the right side, but until the velveteen-flocked lemon stuffed in my ear resolves, we won't know how much hearing is really there. Delashaw suggested Sudafed might help drain the fluid sloshing around in the spongy-boney bits, but didn't promise anything. Six-week check up at the end of June; MRI in September, hearing test around then, too. Since I came off the Oxycodone within a week of surgery and haven't even taken a 500mg Tylenol since Friday's drive to his office, I'm free to resume driving when I feel confident I can snap my head to check traffic -- maybe give that a try the first week of June, which is when I told my boss I'd like to come back to work part time.
