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I survived!

8 years ago666 words

I had brain surgery a few hours ago, yet I live!! And still feel like me. Yay. My head feels like there's a knife stuck in it... But I'm in a hospital ward (my first time ever) and nurses are looking after me. Seems the surgery went well... Though it's not all over yet because the tumour might still need treatment. For now, though, phew.

Odd that my first operation ever would be for brain surgery. Apparently they had to tunnel through my cortex *twice*: once for the ventriculostomy, and again to get a sample of the tumour to find out what type it is (I won't find out for over a week though). I don't feel affected by whatever neurons were disturbed though... So either it's incredibly subtle or made no real difference. I was told the holes they made might seal up eventually anyway - neurons were pushed aside by the pencil-like endoscope rather than destroyed - so let's hope so. I'll be curious to see the results of the MRI they'll be doing tomorrow...

I've never had general anaesthetic before, and it was surreal. I don't remember drifting off - just like with nightly sleep - but I do vaguely remember the confusion of waking up being looked over and talked about by a bunch of unfamiliar medical staff in an unfamiliar room. I think I dreamed a bit about lorries, being outside? Can't clearly recall... Again like nightly sleep.

I'm a bit disappointed I didn't have some interesting experience like an NDE or OBE, but oh well.

I'm lying in bed wearing a hospital gown, tight stockings, transparent paper underpants (sexy), leg massagers (which feel quite lovely), and a bandage of sorts over the scar on my forehead. My hair feels disgusting, but I can't wash it for weeks so as not to become infected. My scalp's numb too because they severed nerves to cut into my skull. Shouldn't last forever.

I've had to urinate into odd paper mache 'bottles' that look like shoes or boxing gloves, while lying down. I'm sure you needed to know that.

While this ventriculostomy went well (they fail 30% of the time), and the cerebrospinal fluid is flowing again in a way that should 'cure' my hydrocephalus in a few weeks (it's not instant), I'll need to wait at least until next week to find out the nature of the tumour, and what should be done next. I'm just desperately hoping it's benign and I can get back to my life (of sitting alone in front of a computer!).

Actually, though I've joked about spending my summer doing this while other people were enjoying holidays abroad, this does feel like a bit of a holiday itself. Resting, being waited on... New and memorable experiences.

A youngish muscular guy in a bed across the room - who reminds me more than a bit of Chuck Norris in facial features - told me he's been living with a slow-growing tumour for six years, and that the week after his first operation on it back then, he was hiking up a mountain... Said he just gets checkups every six months to monitor its growth. I hope for something like that myself. Makes me optimistic.

Another guy who's right in front of me has been moaning like a zombie non-stop, all night... He seems like he's not there at all, mentally. Can't communicate. I'm both annoyed by and concerned about him! I'm not allowed to ask what's up with him though for confidentiality reasons.

The third guy at the other side of the room in a groaning, mostly naked, obese old man who stubbornly refuses to let nurses help him get into bed and instead grunts and swears for like an hour as he struggles to do it himself. Hard to watch; harder to ignore.

Anyway. I've been well fed and feel relatively okay, all things considered. Let's hope things get better rather than worse from here. I'll keep you updated!