I'm Back!

So, funny story...

I had something called a "brain bleed" which caused me to go "kind of crazy" for a short period of time. Luckily this fantastic family called the "O'Leary's" (who go by the names of Nicole, Pat, Steve and Jen) brought me back from Crazytown USA and back to Winnipeg Manitoba Canada (aka: Sanityville). I'm sure glad they did because being sane is a pretty sweet deal.

I won't go into all of the details, as I honestly don't remember all of the details. In brief it all started on Friday night. Nicole and I went shopping at St. Vital mall when I'm told I started to show signs of a mild seizure and cognitive impairment. Thankfully she brought me back to the apartment and called 9-1-1. I don't think the show is still on the air, otherwise I'd tell you to watch for William Shatner on the TV to tell you all about it (a Rescue 9-1-1 joke). I had told the paramedics who arrived that I felt fine and did not wish to go to the hospital. They said it was my choice, but subtly tried to convince me by saying that if something happened to me and it came about that they didn't take me, it could mean/look bad on them. Nicole was also trying to convince me that in her opinion I should go. I gave in and figured I might as well just go and let them tell me I was fine.

At the HSC they thought I might have pneumonia so they took a chest x-ray and also (another) CT scan. I spent yet another anti-comfortable (uncomfortable?) night, this time in "observation", at the Health Sciences Centre. I had a great time with a nurse who put a butterfly needle in me as though my skin was actually concrete and thus required a full force shove to break the surface. Good thing there are no nerve endings in the hand? I just remember thinking "I wish Steph was the one doing this". Eventually the doctor came in and told me the results of the CT scan showed I had a small brain bleed, which would probably go away on its own though slowly. They put me back on my trusty Dexamethasone to reduce the swelling in/on my brain and released me back into the real world.

While I was still in observation at the HSC I remember experiencing strong déjà vu, which could be explained by my many stays at the hospitla previously. This is where I think I started to lose my grip on reality just a tad. I started to get this "déjà vu" feeling more and more often. Jen and Randy and my Mom stopped in for a visit this evening. I started to experience more and more anxiety as everything seemed to be history repeating itself. Everything that was happening had happened but not in the same setting. I don't know when it hit me but I figured out that I was stuck in some alternate reality (be it another dimension or parallel universe or the Matrix... you can pretty much pick your favourite sci-fi movie/series here). This lead right into Saturday night's wild & crazy dreams (along the lines of what I assume a meth addict might dream). I took these dreams as my reality which was the scariest thing I've possibly ever experienced (though I'll get to a scarier moment in a bit). I think I wrote a whole blog post about it so refer to that so I don't have to retype it. I woke up many many times thinking I'd lost Nicole forever (not that I was dying, just that I would never have Nicole remember me ever ever again). It sucked to be her because I kept waking her up every time I woke up! I didn't feel bad about it because I knew each "Nicole" I was waking up was a different Nicole, and thus I wasn't ruining any one specific Nicole's sleep. Get it? If not you probably haven't taken enough cocaine. I'll pause so you can do a line of the wacky dust and then return to see if it all makes more sense...

So where were we? Oh right, so the purple monkeys were riding the rainbow dragons throwing their flaming gophers. I mean, finally morning came and Nicole and my Mom were kind enough to take me for CT scan #2 at the hospital. The idea was that they would compare the two CT scans to see if things were getting worse or better or not changing. The results showed things were about the same (which was deemed to be good news) and I was let out into the world once again. My Mom got me some Tim Horton's as Nicole and I joined her in the food court. This is where things really started to fall apart for me. In my dreams I was switching between dimensions. Now I was switching moods without my conscious control. There was a "happy Tom" and a "sad/angry Tom" who would switch back and forth without me being able to control it. Jen joined us in the food court too and they all watched as I very distinctly started to go from being happy/optimistic (I'll live forever!) to sad/angry/depressed (I'm going to die very soon).

I had my Mom take out a notepad so that I could record how often these "changes" were occurring. It turned out that after a while I could control the changes and could will myself into "happy Tom" but this only worked for a while. It all hit me on the car ride back to our apartment with my Mom driving that when looking at my log of moods that my changes were occurring more and more frequently. Upon arriving at the apartment I had good/bad mood time averages of 2 hours, then 1 hour, then half that, then maybe 12 minutes, then I started to "switch" every two minutes, etc. I deduced that once these times hit zero I was going to die. I panicked realizing Nicole and I were going to miss our own Wedding date. I was overcome with emotional grief and pain and above all else a sense of panic. I told Jen to call her parents RIGHT NOW and get them to the apartment NOW (they were already on their way) so they could witness our wedding which I would do myself. I announced to my Mom and Jen that I was going to die today and realized Nicole was sleeping in the bedroom. I think I asked Jen if she was certified to marry us (she told me she was not) and so I decided to do it myself. So (and picture this from her perspective) I barged into the room screaming at her to wake up telling her I was dying and that there was no time to explain. She didn't believe me so I told her that didn't matter and to just get up so that I could marry her. I called for my Mom and Jen and once they were in the room asked Nicole "Do you? (just say YES)" and then I said "I do too!" and then ran to give my Mom and Jen a hug.

I decided I wanted to die lying next to my love so I laid down next to her to await my fate. When Nicole's parents arrived I asked Nicole if it would be ok to go talk to them, so I ran over to give them hugs and talk to them for a while. I kept switching between my personalities, but eventually left back to nap with Nicole. My memory of this part is vague to say the least, but at one point something Nicole said had me convinced I had calculated my life expectancy wrong and I was actually dying right then. I woke up from a nap with her and found my vision was off (I saw black with some fractal type patterns). I perceived this to be my own death beginning. I gave Nicole one last hug and kiss and ran off to try to give everyone in the living room (Pat, Steve, Jen, and my Mom) a hug before it was too late. I made it to the floor where I collapsed and announced while crying that this was it, I was dying right now.

I made it to the couch where I tried to commentate my own death for everyone present. I told them I did not see a white light and only had a slight pain in my head. I warned them I would start to lose my senses one by one and would eventually stop breathing. At one point I forgot the months of the year and took this as the end of my cognitive functions. They offered me pizza which I refused as I was a afraid of having the pizza half way down my throat as I lost the ability to swallow. I told them I had 5 minutes to live. After 6 minutes it became obvious I might be wrong. By 15 minutes things were looking up for me living, but down for my math skills. After an hour I think I broke down and ate a tiny tiny piece of pizza. I kept questioning how I was still alive. I had an intense discussion with Pat about the swelling in my brain and how the dexamethasone might help. At 10am the doctors had given me one 4mg tablet to reduce the swelling.

I was convinced that I was minutes away from death and that the only thing that might save me would be more Dex. Long story short I was still alive and continued to do so well into the day/night.

I started to lose it late in the evening and decided everyone was trying to trick me somehow and that I needed to prove them wrong. I was dying and they needed to know it. I started to do some crazy things that at the time made sense but now seem good & crazy including:
-Ran into my office and took a pair of scissors to a set of headphones and shredded them to pieces.
-Considered running out of the apartment to meet Nicole's Dad in the car where he was waiting for us without my jacket on and at one point even naked.
-Considered trying to kill myself to end the suffering I knew I was putting Nicole and my whole family through.

Somehow Nicole and her family stopped all of my suicide attempts because their not only amazing, their super people. They monitored my every move, and seemed to know exactly what I was doing. They went so far as to remove all of the sharp objects and pills from the bathroom upstairs (which explains why I couldn't find any when I tried). I ultimately decided I couldn't kill myself because I didn't "know know know" I was dying, I just thought I "knew knew knew almost knew" I was. So I couldn't take the chance of killing myself if there was even a 1% chance I was wrong. Plus even if I was 100% right I know some religions believe suicide victims don't go to heaven, and I couldn't rob myself of that opportunity if it was to be the case. I'm glad I made that decision. I think a lot of other people are too.

Somehow I allowed myself to be convinced to go to bed as this would help me get better. A somewhat restless night saw me wake up convinced I had maybe one more day to live. By noon and some waffles I realized I was being ridiculous. I'm now sitting here at 2:30 pm having enjoyed a wonderful breakfast and lunch with the O'Leary's who have taken care of me all day :) :) :) I owe them some popscicles or something I think ;)

Lastly I wanted to make a point. This whole experience was surprisingly analogous to the depression I went through last year (which of course may have been caused by my tumour). In both cases my behaviour was out of my control and incredibly scary and painful to live through. In both cases I was conscious that talking about my situation might be "taboo" by society's standards, but I didn't let that stop me (either time) from talking about it. In both cases I needed the help of friends and family to get me through it, and in both cases they were successful. Lesson learned? Don't be afraid to speak out about problems you are facing in your life. It isn't always "your fault" and can be caused by factors beyond your control. People in your life are there to help you and want to help you, so don't feel guilty about accepting their help. I have no shame in discussing any of this.

I should also wrap up by pointing out that I made some rather interesting Facebook/Blog posts while in some of my more delusional states. Nicole was kind enough to post a warning about ignoring some of these. I made one comment that implied I had beaten my "terminal cancer". Rest assured I do still have cancer. It is still terminal. And I will still live for a very long time for it takes me down. I still have my secret cancer fighting medication that no one else has... Nicole O'Leary. Sorry to everyone else who has brain cancer... I'm not sharing her ;)
--
Tom

PS: I was serious when I said I love you all.