A funny thing happened on the way...

Well, maybe not so very funny, but let's just say not exactly what I bargained for. At this point I would not blame you if you thought I had taken a few well earned weeks off and headed to some exotic tropical isle. Truth be told - nothing quite so exotic.

I do not think I mentioned earlier that I had developed pneumonia in the hospital during the first week, but armed with antibiotics, cases of tissues, a strong will to be freed from my hospital bed and a desparate need to stop using that charming urinal thing, I succumbed to an extra two days in the hospital. I was sent home knowing that the pneumonia was under control all though coughing and expectoration took on whole new meanings.

On Monday the 15th, Eileen and I went off to the big city to have my sutures removed by Dr. Roland. While I am not sure of the origin of the 'stitch in time saves nine' adage, I was definitely psyched to get the process moving along. I had noticed that my nose (in particular my left nostril) was dripping quite a bit - but presuming that I was getting rid of the pneumonia, it didn't seem out of character. Well, we got ourselves into Dr. Roland's office and within the first 90 seconds I knew I was in trouble. When he saw me ever-so-politely dab my left nostril, he asked a few pointed questions, had me demonstrate my 'dripping technique' while leaning forward and gave me one of those looks you just really hate getting from your physician.

You know how when you read or hear about things and they say that 'only some small per cent' of the patient population will have such and such a reaction and you feel so relieved that it will not happen to you? Well, remember that it has to happen to someone.... As it turns out there is always a [very small] risk that an AN patient can experience leakage of CSF (Cranial Spinal Fluid). And guess where it often leaks from? Right...the nose (or the incision site itself). So my nasal dripping was nature's way of letting us know that the tumor had left some space which allowed for the CSF to find a way out. You may have guessed at this point that this was not considered to be a good prognosis. After Dr. Roland said the words "readmit immediately" I think I may have tuned out the rest of our conversation. I did hear "flat on your back for five days" and I do remember hearing 'spinal drain' and do remember hearing 'danger of Meningitis' - but by then, frankly, they could have said labotomy and I would have nodded in response.

CSF provides a rather important function in the daily maintenance of your brain and spine. CSF allows our brain to float ever so calmly within the confines of the skull. For you car buffs out there it's the equivalent of a hydrofluid shock absorber system. It circulates around the brain and within the spine allowing all of those important operations to function in a literal sea of protection. That is until it gets disturbed and one of its many protective seals is broken. When you have an AN removed, firstly, as we all know now, that the brain must be accessed to conduct the surgery. The first contributor to major headaches post operatively is the time the brain itself is exposed to the air - brains just don't like fresh air - go figure. Next, when the tumor is removed, there is a void where the tumor once was. This space was indeed filled by donor fat tissue that came from abdomen (I told them to take as much as possible for the good of medical research and my recovery). However there is always the chance that not all of the 'empty space' (no funny comments here) create the opportunity for the CSF to find a way out. In my case it sneaks around the Eustachian Tube and found its freedom through my nostril.

The treatment is very sophisticated. First they find some Neurological Resident who needs an activity at 3:00 am to visit you in your hospital room and ask you to turn to your side. And with the famous words I am convinced they teach as part of the MCAT review course, 'this is only going to pinch a bit', this medical professional the same age as my children inserted a drain in my spine somewhere near the intersection of the L5 and S1 verterbrae. Did I mention yet about the headaches you get when your CSF is not in equilibrium? Because even if I had, I will mention it again - there is no valid comparison that comes to mind - but if our brain banging up against the skull without any cushioning does it for you, then you get the picture. When morphine and percocet (as a refreshing cocktail) don't dull the pain - that's what I call a headache. And that is how I spent the following 5 days in the hospital. Pishing into a portable urinal (that's urination to the more sophisticated), taking drugs, rejecting most of the pot roast, baked chicken, oatmeal and other niceties offered by the dietician staff, and living on Dr. Brown's Diet Black Cherry Soda (I think Jason cornered the market for me), granola, yogurt, yummy tuna salad, and something the hospital calls sea food salad - but we're just not going to investigate that one too deeply.

Next...GET ME OUT OF HERE....