To catch the story up, here are some plot points that will be condensed for the sake of brevity:
- The drain in my brain was making me insane: Well no not technically, the drain had to be kept level with my ears to work properly. Easy to do with me being in bed all the time, but then there comes those ineveitible times when I have to actually get out of the bed to use the restroom. Yep, my strength came back in my left side with a vengance, mostly. The feeling of the whole side was still of near non-existence, but the strength was there. Anyway, when I had to use the facilities - a nurse would come in, clamp off the valve on the drain, help me out with the whole getting in the bathroom thing, then unclamp the drain when I was back in bed. One nurse did not do this last crucial part. I remember sitting there listening to my parents talk and watching the tv, when suddenly - I felt like I was sinking backwards into my body. I was barely able to actually talk, but managed to tell my mother what I was feeling. She went and got a nurse, who checked the valve and opened it. That nurse went and found my neurosurgeon who was doing his rounds, and the next thing I know - I hear his voice booming out over the halls. I dont remember what he said (which is probably a good thing), but I do remember the sound of his doom-filled footsteps as he made his way to the nurses station, and found the nurse responsible. What followed was not pretty, but showed that the man gave a damn, loudly. He then came in an apologized, checked me out, and noted the event in his records. When the valve had been reopened, quite a bit of brainjuice came out. This was to be an important fact.
- I had began taking nightly walks. Well, once or twice anyway. Ripping out my IV's and wandering the halls with the brain drain in tow, knowing it had to be kept high. Like walking with a helium baloon. I remember the nurses finding me, and gently shoving me back into bed. Of course, it stopped when the words "one more time and they will have to restrain you to the bed" were heard.
- the room I was in, was not the room I was in. I woke up one night swearing and angry about being moved into the basement. Another night, another room entirely. Something was affecting me, but no one knew what yet.
- I was getting fevers. To the point where I had to be iced down a bit to cool off. Showing no signs of infection, but fevers none the less. This launched a Spanish Inquisition. Shaffrey had decided that I needed a shunt. The docs did not want to install said shunt due to fevers. Shunt being issue #1, fevers #2.
- Issue #1 won out. I had the shunt installed. Although not as nicely as I would have liked to remember it. When it comes to the surgery for the tumor, I do not remember even leaving the room. For the shunt - I was wide awake the whole ride down. I remember lying outside the OR, on my bed talking with the nurse who was accompanying me. I remember telling her that I once heard that shunts can gurgle. Yeah, you heard me. I was doing just fine. I can still sort of remember the conversation the docs were having as they were waiting for me to drop out in the OR itself. I was not happy, I wanted to be gone before I saw an elevator.
- SPVP Magnetically Programmable Shunt installed. $5k worth of titanium stuck into my skull, for my own well being. The brain started improving instantly. The Fevers? Well that was another story. Oh, and by the by - as a quick fix to get the fevers down enough so they could operate, I had a Motrin IB, suppository style. What fun.
BST20: Attack of the Infectious Disease Team
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