Well, got home last night, and and everyone welcomed me and I had awesome home cooked food and sleep in own bed, it was ALL AMAZING!!!
My typing is still c***p (don’t even know it I have enough stars in that) but hope with spell check and the odd crazy word I hope you will understand me.
Nigel, is the MOST talented and skilled and wonderful nuesengeon on the whole planet and has totally saved my life!!!!! I tell you, as you walk out of hospital with a huge scar, and bar few spilling mistakes, everything totally intact and look anew at the world outside, with everything so wonderful and special, it really does come home to you in a BIG way! Nigel also, as it happens, it the most lovely lovely human being you could every hope to meet. Now if you have someone fishing inside you brain, I know the most impotant thing is that they know which bit is which, but take it from me, having someone you truely rate as one of the nicest people you have ever meet goes long long way.
Now, I am afraid that Nigel has rumbled the blog, and has given me permission to use his proper name, but I am slightly worried that everyone with a brain tumour will beating a path to his door and the poor man will be inundated. But on the other hand, I am told there is a real Nigel who is also a nuresgeon who, no disrespect, may be very good, but is not as good as MY Nigel. So from herefore (that dosent right spell speck?) I will use his first name. Meet Puneet, everyone: the best neurosurgeon the world. (I feel we should we on first name terms as he has handled parts of me other people never will, in any case, i can’t handle his second name as it has too many a’s and l’s and h’s in combinations in the wrong places for my speech pediment to manage the moment.)
So, bye bye Nigel, we have all loved you to bits but hello Puneet. (hope I have spelled it after all that!)
I must also mention the whole team who looked after me. There was also a totally awesom anatasthenet (! don’t think spell check knows wha one of those is) who ministered the sedation at important moments (to stop me swearing needlessly at Puneet at the beginning when he took a saw to my head, which I have to admit is a little daunting), also the junior doctors (especially the one who sat under the ‘tent’ with me with the laptop to help to testing my word recognition … sorry about the garlic!), the whole team in theatre who stood all for that time assisting and having everything ready on hand (imagine if Puneet has asked to the jigamathip only to find someone had to go wash it up for him after the last case), and the lovely very skilled and kindly team of nurses on the ward, who breath light and a lovely sense of “everything is absolutely as it should be” every time they enter the room. Believe me, when you are a patient who really has no idea how it things are supposed to be you cannot or overrate that feeling.
Here’s the low down on what brain surgery feels like: for those as a nervous disposition, you may wish to miss this, but you shouldn’t because its not as bad as you think.
First you are positioned on your side and made super comfortable… I really mean it , nothing is too much trouble! Then they put a few lines and things in, which is OK but not so much of a pampering experience. Then they put this frame round your head, which I guess must stick into your head but honest you really don’t feel. From there on you are stuck to the table, they can reach all around you but are totally rested and secure and comfortable. Honestly, its so far easy peasy.
Then you head into the operating room proper (we have been in asntherih (!) room so far) and you meet the team, all gowned up and ready to go. I get blankets and more pampering. I can see all my scans all in lovely tecnichoulour up in the wall and Nigel (I mean Puneet) showed me how he can manipulate then in all three dimensions, wonderful! Sadly I lost sight lost sight them a bit because I had to have a sort of perspex tent over me. That was good, because I could can see and was not in darkness an felt part of the ‘team’.
Then the athenethnes (! I’ll get this word in the end) gave me the intravenous equivalent of a stiff gin and tonic. (I don’t like gin, so requests to a chilled glass of sauvignon and again nothing was too much trouble). Then Puneet numbed a big area of my scalp (which was no worth than dentist injection) and once it took effect he opened a flap of skin and took his saw and took out round lump of my bone out. I REALLY DID NOT THING A THING.
I made sure to remind him to keep it safe; if that was me I would never remember where it was at the end.
The anathneset (!) made the sauvignon wear off (sport sport) and then it was all nice conversion, laughing, getting to know each other, after we were all going to be together of the next five hours!
As the op wore on, I was given tests. The laptop had a program with pictures and spellings I had to do. As I talked more rubbish the junior doc told Puneet (who cannot see the laptop under my tent) and he avoided vital parts. Next he tested my arm and face. That was WEIRD. He would probe my brain (they use a little instrument not his finger) and suddenly my arm would shoot out like an alien and try and attack the poor junior doc! I don’t know if he had a grudge in for him, but knowing Puneet (who has not a bad bone in his body) it is more likely that this is a right of passage to all juniors docs on the neurosurgery specialty. Until you have had your eye poked out by a patient under the knife you cannot graduate to next stage. Well done, I think he passed, neat bit of ducking.
Before you know it Bob was out in a bottle and after a bit of mopping up, and a bit of tidying up, we (by now I do really feel part of the team) were ready to put that bit of skull back in. (anoth of glottal of snauvigaun for that bit)
Back to recovery for an hour where they test ‘vital signs’ every few mins, and the team came and said out every everything was fine and dandy, and then off to the ward where my relatives were waiting.
Everything just perfect!!
Wow amazing is that!!!!
I can’t say I totally recommend it over and above a nice holiday, or even a extreme sport experience, but if there is someone out there who find themselves up for it for good reason: go for it, it’s not the worst thing in the world and it can (with the right team and the right fame of mind), it can even be kind of sort of fun. (maybe)