“I’ve been studying your MRI for weeks…it’s quite fascinating.”
I visited a neurosurgeon today. No neurosurgery took place; it was the medical equivalent of a “meet and greet.” I met a neurosurgeon; a kind, thoughtful gentleman who discussed my case, my medical history, and asked lots of questions about my childhood medical issues.
Then we adjourned to his office to view my MRI.
You see, there are actually two different types of Chiari malformation. The first is good old plain Chiari: base of brain putting pressure on spinal cord, operation cuts piece of bone to relieve pressure. Then, there’s Chiari 2–more complex, more stuff going on, and a more complicated surgery to fix things up.
I most likely have Chiari 2. The neurosurgeon pointed out three things in my MRI which he deemed causes for concern. I could pretend that I understood them, in fact I’ve done that twice today. The truth is, I feel stupid at these medical appointments. All of the important medical facts are presented to me; I want to understand, and remember well so I can tell others; but everything seems to winnow down to: Is this done yet? No, this is not done yet.
The neurosurgeon gave me two or three chances to ask questions…and I mostly coughed up dust. I asked if there was any chance the surgery would affect my ability to speak. The answer is yes, there is always a risk of that when operating on this area of the brain.
The next step is more tests: Two different types of MRIs including a full brain MRI, and another CT scan. Then, in mid-May, another visit to the neurosurgeon. Then, maybe, surgery. It will likely be in Denver due to the complexity of the procedure.
I suppose I can take pride in how royally screwed up I am. My neurosurgeon pulled his department head in the room during our viewing of the MRI and they chatted about all the unique things going on in my noggin. And then my neurosurgeon took photos of me to use when he presents my case to a teleconference of brain and spine doctors he’s putting on later this week. I’ll try not to get a swelled head from all this attention, because a swelled head may be the only cranium-related ailment I don’t currently exhibit.
As always, the hardest part of all this for me is patience; I want things to move faster because I don’t feel like I can enjoy life until it’s done. I saw that Phil Collins is at Pepsi Center in October and came so close to buying a ticket…but then thought, “I might be sick. I might be in surgery. I might be unable to go on a trip by myself.” Having something like a concert to look forward to could really improve my outlook…but then, I had a week in Los Angeles to look forward to and had to cancel it. So I guess I’m a bit shell-shocked on travel.
Oh, and the medical assistant who took my vitals and went through some questions with me recognized my voice from the Arby’s commercials. That is always fun.
Okay, now I have to forget about this for a few days so I can work and pretend everything is okay.