My recollection of events beginning Wednesday night when I woke up in the ICU through Friday night when I returned to consciousness after my craniotomy has come into 'dispute" between my family and myself. When I refer to certain events I am sure transpired, Keith and Melissa look at me like I am smoking crack.
Apparently, some of the conversations occurred in my head only. For example, when I asked for my friend Father Dann, I thought I conveyed that the request was not because I thought I was dying. I was just really anxious and he is such a comforting presence. Father Dann came to the hospital to administer the Anointing of the Sick and was under the impression that I was in need of confession because I was worried about unloading some big, dark major sin. (FYI: not the case).
Alternately, when Keith or Melissa recounts a particular interaction, I have no recall of having said some of the things they indicate I had expressed. Supposedly, I warned Father Dann to be careful where the holy water landed because if any landed on Melissa she would surely start smoking and burning until she melted away like the Wicked Witch in the Wizard of Oz movie.
On another occasion, Melissa claims I sat up in bed, patted her on the arm and told her not to count me out yet while assuring her I wasn't going anywhere. Therefore, she didn't have to worry because she would not be faced with the task of finding an appropriate replacement of me for her father. There are other examples but you get the idea. I am beginning to suspect that they are piling on the stories since I have no way to refute any of the proclamations they insist I made. I guess we'll never know for sure.
What I have been able to reconstruct is the following:
Based on my history of malignant melanoma, the mass in the cyst in my right front temporal lobe is assumed to be a metastasized melanoma. Since it is more likely that the brain tumor is a secondary cancer site, it is necessary for me to have a full body scan to determine the location of the primary cancer site. The body scan shows twelve small nodules (~ 1cm each) in my left upper lung and a 4 to 5 cm mass in my lower right lung.
This makes my situation much more complicated.
Keith and Melissa start meeting with folks from oncology and radiology. There are discussions of the pros and cons of whole head radiation verses Gamma Knife radiation. Despite my appearing as if I am fully engaged in some of the conversations, I have no memory of the interactions. I could not pick these folks out of a line up for any amount of money. Amongst some of the commentary I am credited with is: "If I end up being a dumb #@!, at least I won't know I'm a dumb #@! This is because I am worried about the radiation causing brain damage.
While it is a "no brainer" that the first issue to be tackled is removing the mass, when I am informed on Thursday that there is a neurosurgeon available to do the resection on Friday, I question if we should be selecting someone to operate on my brain just because he is available. Keith explains to me that I am lucky because he is "THE" guy for what I need done and the doctor was purposely selected based on the input of several folks who possess the knowledge to make this choice. I am assured that if the best candidate was elsewhere, Keith would not hesitate to have me transferred by ambulance to where ever the best qualified person worked.
I also express concern about where I am in the line up. For some reason I am under the impression that I am going to be the fifth procedure of the day and I am not thrilled at the prospect of being last. Wouldn't anyone prefer to be first when the doctor is fresh in the morning? It turns out I am incorrect (I am third and scheduled at noon). Besides, haven't I been telling hospital personnel that I completely trust the judgment of both my husband and my daughter? Okay but isn't a woman allowed to say one thing and either change her mind or mean another? Especially when she has a humongous mass in her head that is smashing her brain?
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