Beginnings and Endings

A new year - time for beginnnings and endings. Unfortunately, yesterday was a very sad day, one of endings. After nearly 13 years, 7 of them spent in our home, our beloved collie, Carrie, left us. In addition to leaving behind a lot of hair (hey, she was a collie, after all,) she has left a hole in our hearts that feels like the size of the Grand Canyon.

Pets bring us complete and unconditional love, along with guaranteed heartbreak (in the words of my grandfather.) Carrie became our dog in 2003, the day after Thanksgiving. Willie had always wanted a collie, and Carrie needed a home after her previous owner passed away. She was born February 24, 1998 with the rather daunting name "Clarion Millcreek Charisma." (Yea, you can kind of see why it got shortened to "Carrie"...) Bred with the intent of being a show dog, she didn't quite make the mark and was relegated to the status of breeder. Sadly, she also failed at that and ultimately became a pet. She had several homes before ours, which may have contributed to her anxieties.

Whatever the case, that day in November she became our very own Carrie - for better or worse, 'til death do us part. We suspect that fate played a hand in bringing this dog to our door at that exact time. She was what some might call a "difficult" dog - her anxieties never left her and frequently manifested in ways that were troublesome, leaving in her wake a host of chewed up cameras, eye glasses, wood paste, chocolate, lemon hummus, and humongous veterinary bills. We suspect that lesser people wouldn't have returned her to the rescue folks. But in spite of her "foibles" (or maybe even becasue of them) she was infinitely lovable and she was ours for "keeps." And, while she loved me, her sun really rose and set with my husband, Willie. Carrie always knew when it was time for him to come home from work and would be there to greet him with crazy barking and a tail that, if it went any faster, would have caused her to become airborn. Those are the memories that I will keep close to my heart.

Carrie has been in failing health for several months and we both knew this day would come, but in spite of what the head knows, the heart is never willing or ready to accept it. At the end, you do what you hope is right by the pet, and you suffer the heartbreak that follows. Her last meal, provided by the vet's assistants, was chocolate and roast beef, two things that were forbidden food, but oh so tasty. On some level I am sure she thought she was getting one over on us, and I suspect she was smiling in the way that only dogs can smile. And, I am also sure that there is lots of chocolate, roast beef, peanut butter and other delectibles in the great beyond ... on the Rainbow Bridge.

Johnny Depp's version of the Irish Blessing seems especially fitting for Carrie...
“May the wind always be on your back and the sun upon your face and may the winds of destiny carry you aloft to dance with the stars.”

And, by the way, Carrie - Phoebe the cat wants to know if you'll save some food for her...

Ciao, 2010

It's been nice knowin' ya, 2010. But now, it's time to welcome a new kid to town - Year 2011.

Ah, but 2010, you've served us well...

Not one, but TWO trips to Wisconsin to see famed facial therapist, Jackie Diels, who worked miracles with my face.

After years of saying "one of these day" for years we finally made it to Ireland! The sheep and the Guinness didn't disappoint, but the real highlight of the trip was meeting my acoustic neuroma pal, Lorenzo and his wife, Sheila. That was grand!

2010, you also finally convinced me to bite the bullet (or is it the Bolt?) and take step # 1 in getting a BAHA. Yessiree, I have a big ol' titanium bolt in my head, just itching for a processor... (sorry, 2010, but the processor will be 2011's job)

Willie and I celebrated our tenth anniversary - yep, still crazy in love with that guy. The first 10 were so good, that we are planning to hang in for another 10. This time, however, without any brain tumors.

Lots of visits with family, which we plan to continue in 2011, of course.

So, thanks, 2010 - ya done good.

An Acoustic Neuroma Holiday

Another holiday season is upon us (how the hell did that happen??) and I am taking a little time to reflect on life. I am also reflecting on all my wonderful brain tumor friends and the myriad of funny things we share. Who other than you would understand things like…

Hugging -don’t you just hate it when you lean in for a hug and just keep right on going? Sometimes taking the other person down with you…

Bobbing and Weaving -you are walking along, minding your own business, looking around at all the great sites and suddenly find that you have veered into the road or off the trail. This causes a spurt of adrenalin which causes us to try to quickly course-correct which in turns results in stumbling, bobbing and weaving. All very entertaining for onlookers. Although I have noticed some of the mothers grabbing their kids and moving quickly away…

Drooling and Dribbling – and if your facial nerve is still feeling cranky, how about that drooling thing? Yep, always nice to find out that you have a spaghetti noodle hanging off your lip … and that it has been there for the entire meal because the lip/chin is still pretty numb.

Oil Slick – for those of us who have to keep gel in our eyes 24-7, don’t you just love it when you walk by a mirror and see that you have a massive gel-slick on your face? Honestly, don’t you wonder what people think? We should make up a really inventive story … any ideas?

Whirling Dervish – okay, one of my personal favorites. You are in a store and hear your name being called. You start twirling around trying to locate the source of the sound. Doesn’t work, so the person helpfully calls out “over here.” Great. If I had directionality, do you really think I'd be whirling around like a freaking idiot:

What I Think I Heard – ah, so many funny stories on this one. Ever notice how “chocolate” sounds just like “talk a lot?” or how “caller id” sounds just like “celery…” So, for those of you out there who aren’t single side deaf, if I respond to you in some completely inappropriate manner, just smile and continue.

Winking and Blinking – This is actually a great party trick! When I get tired my acoustic neuroma-side eye either stops blinking entirely, or starts blinking out of sync with the other eye. It’s pretty funny and it totally messes up other people who now don’t know what the hell you’re up to.

Nap Attack – Who among us hasn’t experienced that sudden, not-to-be-denied urge to nap. C’mon, fess up. Some of you have been seen napping at the library, at the coffee shop, on a park bench … really just about anywhere you can plant your butt for a spell.

Abutments – this is a whole new realm for me since I only got my BAHA abutment about a month ago. It sticks out ever so slightly from the side of my head – just enough to catch the edge of that nice knit winter scarf… or the neck of the sweater that I tried to yank over my head in a single smooth move. Hm. Do you think anyone will notice when I have an afghan hanging off the side of my head? Maybe I can color coordinate it to go with the spaghetti on my lip…


Gosh, who knew a brain tumor could be so much fun and so very entertaining??

Merry Christmas!

Under the Category of "I need to get a life..."

So, it's been a month since I got the little rod in my skull and the little snap-like abutment on my head. I am happy to report that healing is moving along right on track. Kind of wish my head wasn't still numb, but I guess I am used to it at this point.

A couple of my baha friends had told me before I had the surgery that once the sight is somewhat heeled, it is lots of fun to brush one's fingers across the top of the abutment and be able to "hear" it. Yep, all true! Now, when I am bored by whatever is going on in my world, I just put my finger over the abutment and let 'er rip! It is freakishly cool. So if you happen to be sitting around with me and see me smiling for no good reason, just take a look and see if I've got a finger pressed to my head.

I also discovered another new noise sensation -- if I snap on the little white plastic "healing cap" it makes a really cool sound as it snaps on the abutment.

Jeez, I really DO need to get a life, don't I?

The Unveiling

This week marked two weeks since my baha surgery, and time to get the dressing off and stitches out. Went into NYC on Wednesday and the surgeon undressed and un-stitched everything and then proclaimed her work to be excellent. Not being able to see around the side of my head, I had to wait until I got home to be able to get a good look at things for myself. Eek. Did you know that I have what appears to be rivet on the side of my head???? Frankly, I am not sure whether to be excited or totally creeped out.

Actually, it isn't as bad as I feared. The abutment is small, maybe as big around as a pencil eraser and sits almost flush with my head. That is reassuring as I would sure hate to get it caught on my brush... The incision is also quite small and eventually won't show at all. At the moment, the little bit of my head that was shaved for the surgery is starting to grow new hair and it itches like crazy. These are the things no one tells you about...

I am trying to get an appointment scheduled for mid-February to see the audiologist who will install the processor and show me how to use it. Seems like a long ways away, but I am sure it will be here in the blink of an eye.

One more step in the acoustic neuroma journey...

Thanks ...

First of all, can I just say how surprised I am to be staring the 2010 holiday season square in the face? Didn't I just put away the Santas and the Christmas decorations? And, wasn't it just a few days ago that I stashed my Reindeer socks for another year? As they say in the comics ... Holy Crap, Batman!

Like most of my fellow Americans, I like to take a little time on Thanksgiving to really reflect on the many things for which I am thankful. Topping the list is that I am married to possibly the best guy in the world (yep, that's you, honey!) And, along with that, I am grateful that all of our parents are in good health. I'm grateful for my wonderful friends who've been there no matter what. And, I am grateful that God invented turkeys and chocolate (no, not in the same bite, but close...)

And, strangely, I am even grateful that a brain tumor arrived in my life a few years ago. Yes, you read that right. And, no, I haven't lost my mind. Of course, I am not particularly happy that I grew a "blob" in my head, but on the other hand, look at the amazing people I've met as a result of this! Would I have ever met Lorenzo in Ireland? Or Hrissy in Bulgaria? Or David in LA? Or Kay in Texas? Or Jan in Chicago? Or Lori in Virginia? Or Wendy on Staten Island? And, the list goes on and on. These are people I met when I was learning about acoustic neuromas ... they are the ones who said "I understand" and really meant it! They celebrated the victories and commiserated on the bad days. And, they still do.

So, yes, I have a great deal to be thankful about. I shall raise a glass of Willamette Valley Pinot Noir later and say ... Her's to YOU!

Oh, and I just came up with one more thing to be grateful for ... thanks to Wendy for telling me the the baha "healing cap" could come off accidentally and if it did, one could simple snap it back on the abutment. Thanks, Wendy - you just saved the surgeon getting an emergency page on Thanksgiving from an hysterical patient...

Step One of BAHA

It is official - I now have another piece of titanium in my head! Willie and I headed into NYC bright and early Thursday morning - check in time at the hospital was 10:30 so we figured we would leave at 8 AM just to give ourselves plenty of time. As it turned out, we hit every conceivable delay on our way in and arrived right at 10:30, after a 2 and 1/2 hour commute. Needless to say, my stress level (and blood pressure) were peaked out by that point. However, we made our way to Day Surgery and got registered, then off to our little room. Got changed into the ubiquitous hospital gown and grippy socks (yes, a complete fashion statement) only to learn that the surgeon was running late.

The nurse came in at 12:30 to escort me to the OR - yes, patients walk into the surgical suite rather than getting rolled in on a gurney. When I arrived, there were about 7 gowned and masked people there - the nurse introduced me (while I stood there in my gown and socks feeling like a bit of an idiot) and then I hopped up on the table where the residents began hooking me up to things. As is usual, one minute I was awake and the next minute I woke up in recovery.

Turned out that the surgery ran about twice as long as expected (not sure why, but I will find out when I see the surgeon on the 1st). Poor Willie was frantic with worry by the time the surgeon finally came out. As for me, I couldn't see anything when I woke up - turns out that they had put gel in BOTH eyes so all I could see was blurry shapes. Once I realized that I wasn't blind, I felt quite a bit better.

Seems that my heart rate and blood pressure were both pretty elevated, so they ended up keeping me in the Recovery Room until a little after 7. Mostly, it was boring. I gummed around a piece of graham cracker and drank several cups of apple juice. I hadn't thought about the fact that one side of my mouth doesn't really produce any saliva, so when I tried to eat the cracker it just turned into a hard, dry ball in my mouth. It got stuck to the roof of my mouth and then I couldn't swallow the damned thing. Well, at least it kept me focused on something other than my head.

I had a hell of a headache when I woke up - my skull was just throbbing. Fortunately, the nurse was quick to shoot me up with something. Gotta love those drugs.

Had a couple of quiet days - basically no bending, sneezing, cleaning, cooking, etc. Today, however, I am planning to get out for awhile. I need to walk a bit to get my equilibrium back. For whatever reason, my balance took several giant steps backwards after the surgery. I am guessing the anesthesia probably affected my brain's ability to keep me upright. Anyway,I am sure a little walk will help.

I was brave enough to look at the "wound" yesterday. Basically, I can't see a thing because it is all covered with a breathable, waterproof dressing. Somewhere under that is the rod and abutment. I guess I will see them when the dressing comes off on the first. The bald patch is pretty big - guess they had to shave quite a bit of hair to get a clean site. But, most of it will grow back - other than the small patch where they remove the hair follicles. And of course, there are a bunch of numb spots on my head again. Sigh. I was just getting some feeling back and now it seems that I am back where I started. Oh well.

So, I am now done with what I sincerely hope will be the last operation I ever need on my head! Let the countdown for the processor begin ...