Last Thursday Laura wasn't feeling well, so I helped take her to the OB clinic for testing. She was just a little dehydrated (thanks again go out to Jason and Amanda McKinney for watching Ted during that). But here's the significance: While we were there, I noticed then for the first time that I was seeing double. There was a painting on the wall with tulips on it, and I realized I was seeing two tulips where there should only have been one. But I could force the images to reconcile. I took two Tylenol and went to bed.
Friday morning was totally normal. I went to work, had an early day, and came home. Friday evening I dropped Ted off at the parent's night out (once a month his daycare stays open from 6-11pm for $20. You can't beat that. $20 babysitter, including food? We'd pre-paid, and no refunds), and I went to watch a movie - Lone Survivor was awesome. Laura still wasn't feeling well, so she stayed home to rest. The movie was really discomforting for me, with the double vision (heretofore known as "diplopia") getting worse. I watched most of the movie with one eye shut.
Saturday was pretty much the exact same. And Sunday, too. Except the diplopia got more and more severe. Nothing was blurry, there weren't any severe headaches, I just couldn't get my left eye and right eye to line up. So around 4:00 I finally got up the courage to tell Laura, and told her we needed to make plans to get me to Walter Reed National Military Medical Center. Knowing that it could be a big long ordeal, and would almost certainly involve at least holding me for observation overnight, she dropped me off and went home.
We had a brief discussion about which hospital to go to. At that time we still thought it was nothing, just a headache. But because of Arnie (you'll read that part later) I decided we should probably start at the best. And really, thank God we did. I could easily see a community hospital giving me two Tylenol and saying "follow up with your PCM." And I mean, two - if you are allowed and have permission to use the exact same hospital that the President uses, wouldn't you? Like, if he were to keel over with an aneurysm today, the people that worked on me would work on him. I *like* that.
The ER staff did look at me skeptically at first, but I think me being an E-6 and an EMT and speaking lucidly convinced them to make an honest go of it. So after the basic tests, they put me in a CT scanner, and we waited. And about 45 minutes after the CT scan, the ER doc came to me with a bewildered look on her face: "The CT came back...abnormal. I'm not sure exactly what, but they put in for an emergent consult with neurosurgery. I had to double check that they wanted neuroSURGERY, and not just nueroLOGY."
The neurosurgeon came in and explained that I had hydrocephaly, a build up of fluid in and around my brain. It was suspected that it was due to a "mass" in my 3rd ventricle, but an MRI was needed. Which I went to immediately.
Laura arrived (Teddy now being ably guarded by Kathy Harris) at some ungodly hour, and at about 6am I got the diagnosis: a "mass" was in my 3rd ventricular space, blocking the flow of CSF (cerebral spinal fluid, the "goo" around your brain and spinal column), which lead to swelling and vision problems.
Monday was a "hold" day, just absorbing the info and making calls, plus some extraneous tests. I can't imagine the years I took off my mother's life calling her at 6:30 to say I had a brain tumor that required immediate surgery. They, being the incredible, amazing, wonderful parents they always have been, dropped everything and drove to DC the same day. Before they got in, my Aunt Linda came to pass the time.
Tuesday at around 7:30am I went in for surgery. They had three goals: get a tissue sample to biopsy the "mass," use a balloon-type device to reopen the normal flow of CSF, and put in a drain for the CSF until the swelling got under control. The surgery went really well, all missions accomplished, I was off the table in under 2 hours.
The drain stayed in until Thursday morning. The diplopia went away and came back and is now slowly fading. I'm up and about, headaches are minimal, but I left with discharge papers reading: "Diagnosis: BRAIN TUMOR."
So that's the new normal for us. That's how you get diagnosed with a brain tumor. But I did want to edit/add this:
There is one other thing that happened last Sunday, just before going to the hospital, that is oddly still very vivid in my memory. And it has to be addressed, because it will always and inevitably be brought up: Kindergarten Cop.
Funny thing is, I've never *actually* seen that movie. I know I haven't. But EVERYONE knows the line...I mean, *THE* line...from Arnie. And I can remember, on Sunday, around 3:00 or so. I was coming upstairs from the basement, Teddy was taking a nap,and I was having the double vision again. And I had the thought, "Maybe it's a tumor." And the obvious and immediate response - Arnold's voice saying "It's not a toomah." But then...I went there. I processed it. I had an internal dialogue of "Why not? Why is is not a tumor? How do YOU know? Stories are told of perfectly normal, happy, healthy individuals getting struck down with bizarre tumors. Yeah, you're 35 and healthy, non-smoker...but not all tumors are tobacco related. How do you KNOW this isn't a tumor? Because this double vision thing is WEIRD."
And I do think it was that internal monologue that gave me the courage to tell Laura a few hours later what was going on.
The other part of the diagnosis? They at least did rule out testicular cancer. Or, as my friend Kevin put it:
Germinoma. Oh holy God.
ReplyDeleteI've seen that movie multiple times (the 90s were a horrible time to be 12). You're not missing anything. And we're never going to consider that line the same way again.