For those of you playing along at home, you may be interested in the pathology report from my surgery. Pathology is a routine process any time you have something removed from your body. Simply speaking, a pathologist is a specialist physician who examines the sample of tissue or bone taken during surgery in order to determine 1. what the object is and 2. what might be the problem, and also 2a. if there is a problem, what type of problem is it, so that a treatment plan can be formulated. Even if the doctor or surgeon is 99.99999999999% sure of what the problem is, as my surgeon was in my case, the specimen should still be sent to pathology for examination, as one never knows until one sees the cells under the microscope.

Yesterday was my two-week post-operative appointment with a neurosurgical physician assistant. My incision was examined and the two anchor knots were cut out. Everything was healing along very well, and another MRI was ordered, which is standard practice (I will start my new years celebration on December 31 at 8:00 AM in an MRI machine).

I asked for a copy of the pathology report and the surgery report. These are fascinating documents to me, and answered many of the of questions I have.

Just the facts:

• I had a left parafalcine meningioma. It was close to the midline of my brain. (That explains why the incision was made along the top of my head, like a headband.)
• The surgery was uneventful and everything went as expected.
• The surgeon was able to get everything during the surgery.
• It was classified as a WHO Grade 1 tumor. Not cancer and not likely to return.
• The meningioma showed a “transitional architectural pattern.”
• It was 2.3 x 1.4 x 1.0 cm and adhered to the dura and skull bone.

What I still don’t know:

• What did the tumor weigh? (I’m trying to back in to find out how much my brain weighs, because why not?)
• What did it look like? I requested photographs from the OR. I totally forgot to ask about that yesterday.
• When can I go get my hair done? I’m still not sure what I want to do with it–but every time I catch myself in the mirror and see those dad-gum glittery roots, I shudder.

Needless to say, we were all very relieved to hear this good news. The PA explained that it’s not often that a surgery goes 100% as planned, but in my case, it did.

 

 

 

 

First things first: My incision looks so good, y’all. I have absorbable sutures and it looks like (and feels like) they are being subsumed into my scalp. There seems to be two anchor knots on either side which I think may be regular stitches, and those are starting to irritate me because they are sore. So, I think this is all progress toward healing.

Here’s a crummy picture–I tried several times, but couldn’t get a good focus tonight for some reason.

I have my post-op appointment on Wednesday. It is hard to believe it has already been nearly two weeks since my surgery. I have been feeling great–remarkable, really, for being days out of neurosurgery–but today I really felt my body telling me to slow down.

Around 3:00 pm, I just felt defeated. I sank into the couch and halfway watched an episode of “Dr. Phil” and struggled to understand why I might be feeling so poorly. This is truly the first time I’ve actually felt legitimately fatigued, more than I would have expected.

I was hydrated. I was not hungry. I was not in pain. I was not stressed. I had not had an especially eventful day.

I putzed around until 7:00 pm when I excused myself and went to bed, which is where I am writing this. (If you look closely in the photo above, you will see my completely adorable pink striped jammies and blue polka dot sheets.)

I know there will be good days and bad days, and that the good days will most likely outnumber the bad. I am just a person, after all. However, it is still a hard pill to swallow when one is as Type A as I. I love knowing why–why, exactly, am I so worn out tonight? What can I do in the future so this does not happen again?

I need to cut myself some slack. I will never know all of the answers. But I have some pretty good hunches. My diet has not been that wonderful since I got home. And I’ve had these periods of wakefulness at night because I forgot I’m old and can’t have more than one glass of iced tea at dinner. These are all things that I can focus on fixing.

So off to bed I go, I promise–after this blog post is published, it’s lights out for me. Maybe I will feel better after a good night’s sleep.

My first trek out of the house–beside going to and fro from hospital to Twin Oaks and then to my home–was to buy some bandanas. I am very self-conscious about the 4″ x 2″ strip of hair that is currently missing from the top of my head, as well as the stitches that perforate my scalp.

I was told to keep my stitches clean and dry, so I’m not too keen on wearing a beanie or baseball cap. With a rather large head (Neanderthal, remember), most cutesy chapeaux perch strangely on my head and just don’t look good. (It took me about three months from innumerable online retailers to find a straw beach hat. Very few milliners manufacture hats in the Neanderthal size, it turns out.)

Needless to say, I wasn’t looking forward to this part of my recovery. My hair is at the weird stage where it almost all makes a tiny ponytail, if I try r-e-a-l-l-y hard. So having a big chunk missing–even if it’s on the top of my head, where almost no one will see–is still difficult.

One nurse cheerfully said, “Look, the surgeon left you some bangs, so you can do a little combover!”

😦 Sad trombone 😦

That remark rang around in my head as I readied myself to go out in public. Of course, I do realize that almost no one is looking at me–they are all probably looking at their phones–and not scrutinizing my appearance. But I still wanted to feel good about my appearance. I chose a silk scarf and tied it, headband style, concealing my stitches and bald spot. I tried to make it look jaunty, but this required far more bobby pins than I anticipated. An effortless sweep of makeup (ha!) completed my easy, breezy look, and out we went.

I picked up seven bandanas, or “wearable art,” as it was called in the store. Each bandana is different, and none of them are affiliated with gangs, to my knowledge. (Is there a red and black buffalo check bandana gang? If so, please let me know.) They are all 100% cotton, washed up well, and most importantly, fit my giant head. And the only people who make fun of me are my family, and that’s OK–I know where they live.

As part of my recovery instructions, I have to use baby shampoo to wash my hair. I keep my incisions covered with a couple of waterproof bandages, and wash my hair with the stuff that’s “gentle as water” promising “no more tears.”

Baby shampoo is quite decidedly designed for babies. As in, little helpless humans who have very little to no hair. It is proving quite impossible to get my hair in any presentable shape using baby shampoo because guess what, I have enough hair on my head for at least 10 babies. Baby shampoo doesn’t lather and it is hard to know when it is completely washed out.

I wish I had a solution for this problem. Fortunately, it is quite temporary. It’s already been a week, and I’m so far ahead of where I thought I’d be. I’m waking up at a reasonable time–7:30 am–my dog helps me with that. I am taking one nap a day, not three. I’m still a hermit as I don’t feel up to going out with a big strip of stitches and a chunk of hair missing, and cabin fever is setting in–but I have a big stack of books to read (in small batches, as I get mentally tired).

My time at Twin Oaks Convalescent Home and Neurological Halfway House ends today. I’m going home tonight, where my daughter and husband are waiting. I feel great about this. While I won’t be running a marathon anytime soon (as if I would anyway LOL) I won’t be a zombie.

Obligatory picture of my little buddy Jett:

And how about my incision:

I have half a mind to just shave my head once I get the all-clear from my doctor next week.

I’m doing better every day. I highly recommend the Twin Oaks Convalescence Home and Neurological Halfway House. That’s what we are calling my mom’s house now.

One of my IVs infiltrated (blew out) the vein, so I have a nice yellow bruise climbing up my left forearm. It doesn’t hurt, but it doesn’t look nice.

I’m going to try to wash my hair today. I have to be very careful around my incision site. I can’t get it soaked, so I have some waterproof bandages to cover it up. And, no Pantene for me–it’s baby shampoo all the way. A shower and shampoo can truly make you feel like a new person.

I still have a headache. It’s diminished, but it’s still there. I’m trying only Tylenol today to see if that will work to control the pain–but so far, it’s not enough. I also noticed some shock-type pain on my scalp, which I was told is the nerves waking up and reconnecting. It’s not painful, just surprising–especially as you’re trying to fall asleep.

It’s incredible that I had brain surgery five days ago. Aside from feeling a little out of it and having a gnarly incision across the top of my head, you’d never know it. I am so grateful for all of my support, my great care, and my good health. I’m privileged to have family who can come stay with my daughter so I can have a more restful recovery. My husband is the best partner through this. ❤️

For all you weirdos who like wound pics, here’s the latest:

Looking good!

Hello, friends and neighbors. I am still at Mom, RN’s house recovering. I had a great evening of blissful, uninterrupted sleep. My doggo Jett is here with me to provide unlimited snuggles, and the rain falling is an excellent soundtrack to fall asleep to.

I notice that I get pretty tired fairly quickly. So after a piece of toast and a cup of coffee, and my meds, Mom, RN provided wound care and said I was doing well.

Wanna see? Of course you do….

When I was trying to get to sleep last night, I kept hearing trickles of something that were coming from inside my head. Apparently, that is cerebrospinal fluid! As long as it is not coming out of my nose, I’m in good shape. The drip-drip-drip sound is strange for sure. When you have neurosurgery, there’s a lot of swelling that goes on, so as it heals, the fluid has to rearrange within your cranium. Creepy!

I was discharged today! I never made it down to the general floor, so I was discharged from ICU.

Last night was rough. I was warned the first 24-48 hours were the worst. That turned out to be 100% accurate. The headache…the nausea…the face hurty pain… so bad. We eventually figured out that I needed a combination of pills to help, and I was finally able to get some quality sleep that wasn’t merely watching TV with my eyes closed.

Now I’m home, at my mom’s house. I have a nice big bed with the softest flannel sheets, big fluffy pillows, and a dog or two to keep me company.

My husband brought me all sorts of goodies from the pharmacy when he got my prescriptions filled. And just now, he, my MIL, and my daughter came to watch me eat a grilled cheese sandwich and chicken noodle soup.

More later… I need to catch some 💤

A few minutes ago, the neurologist came by for another round of the silly question game. While he was asking me what year it is, he removed my surgical wound dressing.

I finally just got the courage up to look at the wound.

If you don’t like pictures of this nature, please don’t look.

Last chance…..

Are you sure?

Ok, here goes:

Gnarly!!! Reverse mohawk!

Not a lot of good sleep to be had in ICU. I’m in a tiny room, hooked up to all kinds of monitors. My bed does this inflate-deflate thing and I have space boots squeezing my calves every so often. People are constantly coming and going: nurses, residents, phlebotomists, dietary workers.

Every few hours I get my pain medications. My incision site hurts, and I have a pretty decent headache. I also put an ice pack on my head and doze, which helps. During the surgery, my head was stabilized, Frankenstein monster-style, with pins, and those punctures are very sore. So is my jaw from being propped open for a few hours.

Fortunately, my appetite has not been hindered in this process. I’m not nauseated at all. It’s remarkable. Modern medicine, eh?

The care team here is super. The housekeeper Theresa is a doll, so sweet and friendly. The nurses and nurse techs are kind. And so is the orderly named Dave who is staying in my room with me, fetching my ice water and fluffing my pillow. He looks familiar, but I can’t exactly place him… 😏

I also think that I am now at least 12% smarter than before surgery. I have passed all of the “silly questions” tests–what day is it, where are you, why are you here, etc. They have not asked me who the president is, but I usually lead off with that since I studied hard for that question.

I was also relieved that I could remember all of my various passwords. I thought that this might be like when you come back to work after vacation and you can’t exactly remember your password to log on to your work computer or voicemail and you end up locking yourself out and have to call the Help Desk. I basically woke up thinking of all of my passwords and what they are, so I think I’m good there.

Today I’ll need another MRI to check things out and ensure… it hasn’t grown back? Assuming all is well on that end, I’ll be taken to a room on the regular floor. Discharge could happen on Friday!

Now, back to my previously scheduled napping…

The meningioma is out.

Yes. That hurts.

First, thank you to all of my friends and family for your support. It means a lot to me. The thought that I had so many people praying for me–or even just thinking of me–kept me as cool as a cucumber.

Post op was not bad. I am ambulatory and already peed by myself! That is a big accomplishment in the post-op world. Sorry if that’s TMI.

My head hurts–headache pain and incision pain. My face also hurts.

I just had my first neuro evaluation. I passed.

I’m going to kick back with my jug of water and try to get some rest.

Everything’s coming up Carolyn!