As time went on I felt worse and worse. This was a different kind of discomfort -- an almost indescribable combination of headache, upset stomach, general soreness and that ominous feeling of impending illness you get before you officially come down with the flu.
I felt like Nikki Sixx's liver.
After a couple days of screaming headaches that slowly subsided, I gradually felt better. Just in time to get the results from the spinal tap. There were signs of another tumor in my spinal fluid. Great.
The doctors huddled together. The game had changed.
Now, Dr. Thompson was adamant that a biopsy be performed so he'd know exactly what he was dealing with. That meant surgery. Dr. Greene wasn't thrilled about that -- all along he'd been clear about his preference for avoiding surgery if it was at all possible. But he reluctantly agreed. He'd need to perform a biopsy -- cutting open my skull and harvesting a sample of the tumor so the pathologist could study it -- in order to get a better understanding of the tumor.
Up to now, this had all been a rather academic exercise. I knew I had a tumor and my sight was getting worse and worse, but it didn't really feel "real" until this moment.
* Yes, I know that "Home, Sweet Home" is on the Theater of Pain album, but Shout at the Devil is so much better.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Tiny Bubbles
The spinal tap didn't hurt at all, which surprised the hell out of me. It was a little weird, sure, but I didn't have any pain. Folklore suggested that it was one of the most painful procedures out there. Hardly.
They told me to go home and lay down immediately. The fluid needed to settle, and if I was doing jumping jacks or whatever there was a chance I could get an air bubble in the fluid and that would be a Very Bad Thing. Not wanting to tempt fate, I followed their advice.
We went home and my wife (who truly deserves a blog completely devoted to her awesomeness and support through this whole thing) whipped up some catfish po-boys and I settled in to catch up on It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia.
The next day I felt a little odd -- sort of spacey and I had a slight headache at the base of my skull. I didn't think much of it. At this point, I was feeling strange for all sorts of reasons, so I went to work. We were redesigning our corporate web site and had an important meeting with the developer that day.
About thirty minutes into the meeting I had a headache that was brutal. It was unlike any other headache I've had before or since. It was like having a warm cotton helmet with nails in it placed on your head while someone screwed two inch screws into the base of your skull. I couldn't talk. I couldn't think. I could hardly see. I got some aspirin and went back to work.
We had another meeting after lunch. I mentioned the spinal tap to a woman in the group and was surprised when her eyes bugged out and she said "Oh my God! I wasn't able to move for three days after I had mine!" I didn't think it was that big of a deal. I got through the meeting and went home to lay down on the sweet, sweet sofa in our basement.
They told me to go home and lay down immediately. The fluid needed to settle, and if I was doing jumping jacks or whatever there was a chance I could get an air bubble in the fluid and that would be a Very Bad Thing. Not wanting to tempt fate, I followed their advice.
We went home and my wife (who truly deserves a blog completely devoted to her awesomeness and support through this whole thing) whipped up some catfish po-boys and I settled in to catch up on It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia.
The next day I felt a little odd -- sort of spacey and I had a slight headache at the base of my skull. I didn't think much of it. At this point, I was feeling strange for all sorts of reasons, so I went to work. We were redesigning our corporate web site and had an important meeting with the developer that day.
About thirty minutes into the meeting I had a headache that was brutal. It was unlike any other headache I've had before or since. It was like having a warm cotton helmet with nails in it placed on your head while someone screwed two inch screws into the base of your skull. I couldn't talk. I couldn't think. I could hardly see. I got some aspirin and went back to work.
We had another meeting after lunch. I mentioned the spinal tap to a woman in the group and was surprised when her eyes bugged out and she said "Oh my God! I wasn't able to move for three days after I had mine!" I didn't think it was that big of a deal. I got through the meeting and went home to lay down on the sweet, sweet sofa in our basement.
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