I went home from DCMH yesterday. Enough with tests. I’ve spent what feels like four solid days in MRI and CAT scan machines. We have some sort of a diagnosis and I have an appointment with a highly touted surgeon next Tuesday.
Now there’s a chance of getting somewhere. Maybe the problem, whatever exactly it turns out to be, can be fixed fairly easily. Maybe I’ll get lucky.
When I got home last night, the stairs were a real challenge. I won’t be going up and down much this weekend.
I spend a lot of time Saturday and Sunday researching meningiomas and the doctor I’m to see on Tuesday. The doctor’s bio and photo on the Penn Health web site show a nice looking man, who happens to be Canadian by birth. I won’t hold that against him though.
As for meningiomas, there’s lots of information, and some pretty graphic artwork and photos. The operation shouldn’t be too bad, as I’ve been lead to believe the problem is on the back (nearest the skin) side of my spine. Problems most often arise when the meningioma is on the front of the spine and difficult to get at. Of course, if mine was on the front it wouldn’t be affecting the spinal cord, and I’d probably not even know about it.
The operation normally takes 90 to 120 minutes. Results vary, with some patients just getting up and walking with no neuropathic symptoms immediately afterward. I suspect that since my problems are at least several months old, I won’t be that lucky. I may have seriously damaged nerves that may take a long time to recover. Nerves are very slow healing. I just hope no nerves have died or are past the possibility of recovery. We’ll see, and I suspect we’ll see real soon now.
Hilary brings my meals up, but mostly I eat the new Berry Burst Cheerios, which have chunks of dried fruit in them. I really got to enjoy plain Cheerios while in DCMH; the Strawberry Cheerios are even better. I figured that they had to be better than the other kind, Multi Berry, with strawberries, blueberries (ugh), and raspberries.
Wrong again. Multi Berry is spectacularly good. That’s the bulk of what I eat these days. I manage 4 boxes, two of each flavor, over the weekend.
With no pressing reason to go downstairs, I don’t. I sleep as much as possible because, as last week showed, sleep is a precious and sometimes rare commodity in a modern American hospital. You’re poked, prodded, and talked to at any time someone feels the need.
Comments