I’ve spent much of the last 78 hours asleep since my “Awake” operation. It takes a lot out of you to supervise your own brain surgery, let me tell you. Especially when you have five consultants to supervise (Mr H, three consultant anaesthetists and a consultant neurophysiologist).
Mr H said he didn’t have to use the ice pack on my brain during the surgery as I was showing no signs of seizures. I had a seizure 20 minutes after I rolled into Recovery (funnily enough, it was the same bay in Recovery as I had taken up both before and after my biopsy). With three further seizures on Monday, one on Tuesday evening, two yesterday and two overnight, that takes my total post-surgery count to nine.
Not unexpected given that Mr H was noodling around in my noggin. Mr H says that they are testing the levels of one of the anti-seizure drugs (phenytoin) in the morning then, depending on the results of that, he will discuss with the neurologists to see what they can do about the shakes.
More on the surgery itself in a future post. As a taster, in between the highs of the sedatives, I can remember the drilling, the sawing, counting the flashes of a torch, counting to 10, squeezing the hand of Fran (she of the Shiny Happy Woozy Drug fame), wiggling my fingers, bending my right leg at the knee, the staples (24 of them, counted since), and Mr H washing my hair. After all that, I didn’t get the big bandage I was promised.
The facial swelling that Mr H warned me about appeared last night. Add to that the two black eyes that came up overnight and I’m quite the sight. I had a shower this morning, though, and my nurse washed my hair so at least I smell nice. Mr H asked what was in my black bottle (Tom Ford Black Orchid perfume, no less) as it turns out he thought it was a hip flask!
Thanks for all the messages, which I’ve read or had read out to me but I’ve not had the energy to reply to most of them.