Last day at work for awhile

Today was my last day at work for six weeks. My coworkers surprised me with a breakfast, which was nice. I told them that I'd be back before they know it! See ya soon, cubicle :)

Waiting

I'm at work today - I have 2 1/2 days left until I'm out for six weeks. Seems pretty surreal. It's just so strange to go from regular-do-everything Kim to had-brain-surgery Kim. I really only get freaked out when I imagine waking up after surgery and having a bunch of tubes and IVs and stuff on me.

I had a dream about everything last night. I was staying on the 94th floor of a hotel the night before surgery. I had to be there at 5:30 am, but I woke up at 6 am. I rushed to the hospital and they took me in and put a gown on me. Then I was on a gurney being wheeled around the hospital but I wasn't going to surgery. The details are fuzzy now, but basically I was just going to different places and being left there with no explanation. Eventually, I found my family and they didn't know what was going on either. Then we were told that it was a fake hospital and they never intended to do any surgery, so the whole day was a waste of time. Not sure what that means...

Pre-op stuff

At my pre-operative appointment today, I did the following:

• Met with admissions and established that I am willing to pay $5 per day for a private room, if available
• Gave a thorough medical history to a nurse practitioner by answering "no" a lot
  
• Had an overall health exam by the NP and got dizzy from taking deep breaths repeatedly
  
• Allowed the Chinese resident doctor to look in my ear even though she couldn't hold the otoscope correctly
  
• Gave a urine specimen
• Maintained consciousness while my blood was drawn
• Had electrodes attached to me for an EKG test
• Signed surgical consent forms

You know the drill: no food, drink, or medication after midnight the night before surgery. Well, I had never considered that the rule would apply to my insulin pump, so I was confused when he asked me what my plans were for the night before. I replied, "Uh, wear my pump until I get here?" Then he asked what would happen if I didn't use it, and I said, "You mean if I disconnected it from midnight to 5:30 am? My blood sugar would be really high because I wouldn't have had insulin for 5 hours." He looked concerned at that answer and said he would ask his boss. Needless to say, the NP got permission from the anesthesiologist for me to wear my insulin pump after midnight on the night before surgery.

(In the interest of full disclosure, this post was actually written on 2/3/09.)

A group of supporters

Today was my second Acoustic Neuroma Association D.C.-area support group meeting. We didn't have a speaker this time and instead went around the circle to tell everyone about ourselves. There were probably between 5 and 10 people who also had Dr. T and went to Hopkins, and they all told me that I will be in good hands. It's nice to know that all of these other people have gone through a similar situation and that they've been able to deal with things well. They asked me to let them know how things go; our next meeting will be in May.

(In the interest of full disclosure, this post was actually written on 2/3/09.)

Long day in Baltimore

Phil and I went up to Hopkins again today. Our first appointment was with Dr. T, the neurosurgeon. He had obviously done a lot of these surgeries as he had his whole conversation perfected. He briefly went through the treatment options and then discussed the retrosigmoid surgical procedure and its risks; Dr. T was able to give percentages specific to my case for my risk of hearing loss, facial paralysis, and headaches. Overall, Dr. T felt that I should make a pretty full recovery, and we felt good about Dr. T's knowledge and experience.

Afterward, I went to the audiology department to have an audiogram performed. I would get the results at my appointment later that day with Dr. C. Then I took part in a study that Dr. C was heading and went out to lunch with Phil and a friend from college. I was also able to speak with Dr. T's secretary to schedule the surgery for Feb. 9.

At the meeting with Dr. C, we went over some questions I had and the audiogram. It showed that I have a 30-40% loss of hearing in my left ear with 80% word recognition. This means that I can both hear reasonably well and understand speech very well. We all agreed that it would be in my best interest to try to save some of this hearing. Even if I end up with only a little hearing left, it will help with directionality and knowing where sound comes from. I signed the surgical consent forms, and then the appointment was done.

We went home feeling very good about things and looking forward to getting the surgery over with.

(In the interest of full disclosure, this post was actually written on 2/1/09.)

Is the glass half full or half empty?

I got the radiologist's report for the MRI from last week.

"Again noted is an enhancing mass lesion in the left cerebellopontine angle. The majority of this lesion is in the cerebellopontine angle, but with a component protruding into the internal auditory canal. The extracanalicular portion of the mass has increased in all three dimensions when compared with the previous study measuring 1.4 AP x 1.3 RL x 1.6 cm SI (previously 1.3 AP x 0.9 RL x 1.3 cm SI)."

In layman's terms: I still have a tumor. It's grown since the last scan taken four months earlier.

As nice as it would have been for it to not have grown, I was also glad to see it grow because it confirmed that I should go ahead and have surgery now instead of waiting longer.

(In the interest of full disclosure, this post was actually written on 1/30/09.)

Brain MRI, Take 2

I had my second brain MRI today. It was pretty much the same as the first one except I had a different tech. Also, during the scan, I was thinking about whether or not my tumor grew instead of wondering why I was wasting my time having it done.

(In the interest of full disclosure, this post was actually written on 1/30/09.)