Chapter 7

For the first 48 hours following my surgery, folks from neurology come and repeatedly check me for any sign of neurological impairment.  I appear to have survived my craniotomy unscathed as I quickly memorize the routine and start performing certain portions of the exam undirected.  I even begin naming certain moves (i.e. when asked to hold my arms out in front of me, I call it "the Jesus move").

By Sunday morning, I am able to sit up and feed myself.  Now that I am able to chew absent of great discomfort, I am thrilled at the prospect of eating "real food" that I have selected.  Quite frankly, the applesauce I started with and the sherbet (added to the menu to pacify me when my appreciation of the former quickly wore off) were no longer cutting it.

On Sunday, after demonstrating that I am able to stand alone and walk to the bathroom with assistance, it is determined that I am stable enough to leave the ICU.  I am moved to a room for non-critical neurology patients on Sunday afternoon.  While this is a good sign of my progress, it means I will no longer have a room to myself.  My family's elation regarding this positive move forward is short lived because the woman I will be sharing a room with turns out to be a bit much.

My room mate appears to be quite upset.  It quickly becomes apparent that she is alone with no family in attendance.  She launches into a tirade of woe but no one appears able to soothe her as she is verbalizing her troubles in a foreign language.  An attempt to find someone who can understand her fails.  The poor woman is looking in the closet for her clothes and is distressed to find the closet empty.  A nurse is sent to try and convince her to remain in bed.  It is determined that the patient might have to be be sedated. 

This situation is obviously "not going to work."  Melissa goes home to obtain some noise canceling headphones for me to wear which should allow me to sleep by blocking out the sound of the unfolding drama.  Keith leaves to look into the possibility of getting me into a private room.

In their absence, I hear the following exchange:  the nurse explains that she is happy to help her but she must speak English for the nurse to understand what she wants.  The woman says something about punching and the nurse inquires why the woman would want to hit her.  The woman talks about "big trouble" and the nurse affirms that it would definitely create a problem if the woman hit her.  The nurse uses the speaker to let a coworker know that they might have to utilize restraints for this patient.

I am intent on this being resolved (which will provide some peace so I can rest) so I focus on finding a solution.  As the exchange between the nurse and the woman continues, I begin to understand that the woman is trying to get up and get dressed because she thinks she must go to work.  She is distressed because if she doesn't "punch in" - she will be in big trouble.  My suspicion is that she is slightly demented and is confused as to when this is and where she is.  

I call out to the nurse and explain what I think might be going on.  Of course it's easier to be objective when you are on the outside looking in - even if you just had a brain tumor removed - as it has not affected my hearing, and all I want is for them to calm her down.

Melissa returns with the noise canceling headphones and in conjunction with a pair of earplugs, I am able to fall asleep.  Go Team Studzinski!