Hello everyone!
So Nicole has been awesome updating the world as to my condition and general health as of late, but I figured I owed the world my own 2 cents.
It turns out I have a lot of things in my head: Blood, neurons, random pointless thoughts, and a brain tumor. If we were playing a game of "which one of these don't belong?" The correct answer would be the last one (depending on the random thought of course). The official name of my tumor is Glioblastoma multiforme (aka:grade 4 astrocytoma). It's unofficial name is Ted. Ted is kind of a douche. I've always tried to strive for the best at everything I do, but when they told me brain tumors are classified on a scale of 1-4 (with 4 being the worst) and that mine is a 4, I wish I hadn't achieved such a high score in this particular case.
I've told my hospital story a few hundred times it seems, but it never hurts to tell it again, so here we go!
How did I find myself in an operating room having my head cut open? Funny story (that isn't really funny). I started getting really bad headaches about a week prior to entering the hospital emergency room. I can't describe them exactly, as no one can describe headaches or pain accurately at all, but suffice to say they were bad. My head felt like it was pounding physically and I couldn't do much while I had them. They affected my hearing to the point where everything would "drown out" every second to a second and a half. I found the headaches seemed to be worst in mid-afternoon, making my afternoon GMGT 4010 a bit of a struggle to get through. To my wonderful groupmates: interesting factoid, that day I agreed to help "teach the class" I had probably one of the worst headaches of that week that entire class which started about the time I hit the stage. I think I was able to hide the pain though it did prevent me from thinking/speaking for most of the class. I remember leaving class to use the washroom frequently and feeling like the headaches were so bad I wasn't sure if I could return to class throughout that week. So that sucked. My life boss (Nicole... who keeps me alive in general and has "stepped up her game" as of late) urged me to see the doctor about the headaches. This is where I say YOU WERE RIGHT LOVE! And throw a word of wisdom to all stubborn boyfriends/husbands out there in the world... when your significant other says you should go to the doctor... just do it! It was a Tuesday morning and I had a final exam in my International Business course at the university that morning. I was in no shape to write it as I was experiencing my worst headaches to date. I phoned my family doctor who had a cancellation that morning so I was able to drive down and see him within a couple of hours. He suggested I take Aleve with Tylenol if necessary and see how that helped. I headed down to the ol' pharmacy and picked up the meds and popped a few back. Unfortunately Aleve might be the equivalent of like 8 Tylenol (if I remember those American ads correctly) but it wasn't enough for my Tumor related pain. So I got a note from my doctor to excuse my absence from my exam (which in hindsight seems kind of pointless) and made my way back to my Mom's house. The headache continued. I was getting hungry so I ordered some pizza for me and Nicole. That wasn't the brightest idea. When the pizza guy came my Mom's two dogs started barking and barking (not good for headaches). I managed to get the pizzas and pay the guy buy after he left a wave of pain hit me and I started to throw up non-stop. Luckily my lovely lady friend / life boss / medical aid / Nicole came to help me out. She managed to get me down to my room. I kept insisting I was ok and decided to have some pizza. One bite in I started throwing up again and in my head was like "I can't throw up all over my bed! Wait I have plastic bags by the foot of my bed!" And rushed to find one. Unfortunately my balance was off at this point and instead of simply leaning off the edge of my bed I did a somersault off the edge of the bed and landed on the floor still throwing up all over the place (sorry for the image). At this point I'm told I started to convulse a bit. All I remember is trying to stand up so that I could prove to Nicole that I was "ok" but couldn't seem to manage it.
At this point I think Nicole was rightly freaked out. She called up her mother (a former nurse) who was kind enough to drive to my house, pick the both of us up, and drive us to the St. Boniface emergency. As I will later explain, this is how my girlfriend and her Mom literally saved my life. I think I owe them a nice Christmas card or something. I make it to the emergency room, which is basically me throwing up into an ice cream pail next to people who clearly wish they weren't sitting next to me. The emergency room is very much not a place where fast service is the name of the game. So after several hours I was trying to convince Nicole that I was fine and that this was all pointless and we might as well leave. Luckily we stuck around and I finally got called in. I mentioned I had a stiff neck on top of my other problems. One thing I didn't mention is that prior to entering the hospital I had a moment where I saw a weird line of black and white shapes in my field of vision kind of like a snake. That helped convince me going to the hospital wasn't such a bad idea. So the doctors as St. B thought I might have meningitis and decided to send me for a CT scan. The CT scan showed a growth on my brain. They sent the results of the scan off to the Health Sciences Centre where they determined I had something that needed to be looked after ASAP, so again Nicole's Mom was kind enough to then drive me to the HSC which meant more emergency room waiting. You can check out Nicole's notes for a much more accurate version of what happened from here on out, as my memory is somewhat fuzzy (possibly from having my head cut open). Long story short they had to cut out part of the growth to be able to perform a biopsy to see just what it was. I was told that in case it was cancerous they were going to get as much of it out as they could, which I figured was a good idea. So they did their thing while I was unconscious and I gather it all went well. I only vaguely remember the next few days. Oh, and apparently I spent quite a while waiting for my surgery as they took anyone from emergency before me, so I think I spent a few days simply waiting for an opening in the OR. I did not like the hospital. The staff were great, but it sucked being in there. They woke me up every 4-6 hours for blood work and pills and such. I'm not sure I slept a decent sleep for the duration of my seemingly very long stay.
I must say I truly appreciate all of the visits and well wishes I received while I was there. It might sound cliche but it really did make a difference. I have to also give special mention to Nicole, her sister Jen, and her entire family who were above and beyond fantastic and made sure I had nice warm blankets and decent (any) food and pretty much anything I needed. If you ever find yourself in the hospital... steal those people to look after you (or maybe hire them as that would be more legal), you won't regret it.
It was a tough time recovering from the brain surgery. Walking was suddenly an issue and I had to go through some physiotherapy to get myself back in working order. Once I was out of the hospital though I started to recover a lot faster. My Mom was awesome and set up her house for my arrival complete with tea and breakfast and all sorts of wonderful things. Another funny story? I moved out into an apartment while I was in the hospital... sort of. I had applied for an apartment prior to all the shenanigans, and had a possession date of December 1st, which I believe I spent in a hospital bed hooked up to many IVs. Nicole's sister and whole family again came to my rescue by looking after the whole process with my landlord. Thank you guys oh so very much for that! Eventually my family, Nicole's family, and some friends (Thanks C.B. and Mr. RFD!) pitched in and got me all moved into my new place in about 2.5 hours. Best mover award I believe goes to Mr. Randy Madsen to not only provided the truck but also added some impressive packing skills. If you ever have to move, having brain surgery prior is the way to go. People just tell you to sit down and not to move and do all of the work for you. It's kind of ridiculous. Thanks again to all of you for the help.
I think I'm on a combined like $15,000 worth of pills and such right now. Hence I must say I love this country & province as I've only had to pay about $500 of that total bill. I said I would get back to the part where my GF and her Mom saved my life. The doctors essentially told me that had I not come into the hospital to have the surgery done I probably would have simply dropped into a coma any day and that would have been the end of ol' me. That would have sucked. Luckily that is not the case currently. I've begun both radiation and chemotherapy treatments to fight this thing off. There are many possible scenarios as to how it might all go. Worst case scenario the treatments simply do not work and I have about 3 months to live. I don't particularly like thinking about that possibility. Most likely is that the treatments work somewhat I live about 12 months. 12 months is better than 3, so I'm ok with that. There are cases where some people have lived a lot longer than one year (5, 6, or even 11 years) but those are very rare cases. But I'm an unrealistic optimist so those are the ones I'm banking on! My goal right now is a solid 10 years to forever. I can't describe what it is like going through all of this because I don't really know myself. I think I'm in a bit of denial, which so far is working out for me. The radiation is simple and painless (a 10 minute appointment where I lay on a bench and have x-rays pumped into me), and the chemo pills which caused me terrible nausea for one day no longer bother me as they upped the dosage of my anti-nausea pills to something that works. Aside from the giant scar I see in the mirror every night I brush my teeth I have no real visible/obvious reminders of the fact that I'm technically sick. Ok, taking the 17 pills per day and facing my nightly injection might fall into that category, but I'm getting used to them all by now.
Everyone has been beyond super nice to me and I can't thank them (you) all enough for your kindness and support. My main concern is not for myself, but for Nicole any my family. I don't think it is fair that they have to go through all of this. It isn't fun. I don't know how Nicole has stayed as strong as she has for the past several weeks. I know she'd say she hasn't been strong, but believe me considering everything that has happened she's been beyond amazing. She's made this whole process bearable for me. Aside from the emotional side of it all, I'm doing absolutely fantastic. I feel healthy and fine, and have absolutely loved getting used to this whole independent living thing of being in an apartment and out of my Mom's basement after only 27 or so years.
And to those who think there are few benefits to being told you likely have only one year to live... a thought crossed my mind the other day: for all of the times I've been stuck in a 3 year contract with the cell phone companies with seemingly no way out? I got you this time suckers!
I might just add some more notes in the weeks / months to come. I find I'm physically exhausted much of the time (naps have become my new best friend), so me getting around to doing stuff seems to take a while, but if I can I totally will. Cheers to you all! And enjoy the holiday season eh? My cheers is an eggnog cheers by the way ;)
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Tom
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