brain surgery

This is a paper Graden wrote about his last brain surgery
I did get his permission to post this.

At 4:20 in the morning of Friday September 1, 2006 I woke up and hopped in the shower. Using the super anti-bacterial soap that the nurse gave me a few days ago, I scrubbed down. Then I dressed simply, knowing that I would have to change into a hospital gown. My dad and my brother Trent joined me as I traveled to Utah Valley Regional Medical Center. I arrived at 5:20 for the required 5:30 check in time. As we waited we just spoke of small subjects not amounting to much. Time passed slowly, finally the nurse called me in with my two guests able to join me. I was asked the regular questions by the nurse, which I later came to know that I would be asked the same questions by every nurse maybe ten times until I was put out. These questions included do you have any known allergies to medications. When was the last time you ate or drank anything? Have you or any of your family members had any reaction to anesthesia. Do you have any metal jewelry such as piercings or any loose dental work? These questions are obviously standard but very important. I was prepared and fortunately was able to respond, “No” every time.

Being showed my temporary room, I was asked to change into the hospital gown. After that, my dad and brother joined me as I had an IV inserted into my arm by the nurse. I have had IVs before, but they did this one differently. I was given a shot that wasn’t pain free to ease the pain of the actual IV being inserted into my arm. That seemed a little pointless to me.

I laid there on the bed on wheels and did nothing, things were being done to me. Small calf boots that inflated and deflated regularly, were placed on me to help with circulation. When the IV was in I was ready to go. My next stop was a pre surgery MRI at 6:30 AM. Once again a terrible wait time, what was actually thirty minutes seemed like days. When the clock struck 6:30 AM I said goodbye to the nurse who, having spent only a few minutes with I got to know quite well. I was wheeled down a set of halls to receive an MRI. Having had countless MRIs in my life, this was nothing foreign to me. In fact, I had quite a nice twenty-minute nap as I was burrowed in that tunnel.

When the MRI was complete we knew my time before I went under that knife was limited. I briefly said goodbye to Trent. As I was wheeled down the hall my dad followed me. The nurse said this would be a good place to say good bye. At that moment all the my crazy notions that had been floating around in my head for the last two weeks about brain surgery flooded my mind. It hit like a ton of bricks. It is a big deal, I thought, “What if something goes wrong? What If I wake up a different person? What if I wake up a vegetable, unable to even move? What if I don’t wake up at all?” It was hard to say goodbye to my dad. It was brief but as I choked back the tears I said, “Goodbye, I love you.” At this point he let out a small surge of emotion and we parted as he said, “I love you.”

The next moment I was taken off the bed on wheels and was put on the operating table. There were four people concentrating on me, preparing me further for a craniotomy. As they took my gown half way off, they put small sticky pads on my chest for monitoring purposes. There were five pads. I spoke to the anesthesiologist briefly he mentioned, as was mentioned before, that I was to wake for a short period of time toward the end of the surgery with my head open and brain exposed. I would be given some simple commands then I would be asleep not to know anything until I was in one piece again. I felt uneasy to say the least.

Once I was ready for surgery, I was given an oxygen mask. The anesthesiologist said “You are going to smell something strange, but that is only the smell of the plastic.”

I put that mask on and didn’t smell any strange smell. I just breathed that pure oxygen then the funny smell came. I am not sure if it was gas or just the smell of the plastic like the Doctor said but I breathed easy. Muffled by the mask, I enquired when I was going to sleep. After all I’d rather be asleep sooner than later because what you don’t know can’t hurt you, to an extent. It was kind of scary learning the various things that happens to a person pre-surgery. The more I observed, the more I wanted to be asleep. The doctor said in ten seconds, you’ll be out. I said, “see you later” then an eerie, easy feeling came over me and I just relaxed till I was unconscious.

Seemingly with a pillow over my face preventing me to see and preventing me to breath easy, I came to. I could not open my eyes I had no idea what was going on. I felt like I was going to suffocate to death as I laid there awake for just ten seconds. My sense of hearing at that point was my only valuable sense. It was also the only sense that had not been tainted. I heard various monitoring machines and some commands by Dr. Reichman, the neurosurgeon. Telling me to move my hands, I did as I was told. “Move your feet, shrug your shoulders” all three were easy tasks for me to do as I sat on that narrow table that day.

I later found out that when one goes in for the type of surgery there is a small mask put over your eyes to keep them shut. Also, I had a tube placed in my throat as to keep me breathing. When I woke during the surgery I had no idea of this process. I wanted to breathe deep and this unit which kept me alive had me forced to take small breaths, thus I felt like I was going to suffocate to death. If I were awake much longer I would have started swinging at shadows. Then just like that, I relaxed untill I knew nothing. Returning to unconsciousness never felt safer.

When I came to my senses, this time for good, only two hours had passed. I was being wheeled to the Intensive Care Unit. I felt like a million bucks. It seemed like nothing had happened. The doctor said that my head would be numb for twelve hours, so I hardly could feel that there was anything done to my head, let alone have had a tumor removed from it. As I got to the ICU there were three people there helping me out. Right as I got there I was hooked back up the heart monitors and I was left alone only to be checked on every half hour or so. I was doing great, so said the nurses. My dad and grandpa came in for a glorious reunion. They could only stay for a few minutes, but they just had to see me. I couldn’t blame them I can only imagine what it was like to have to wait through the surgery consciously. Welcoming their presence we exchanged some words. They left and I came to my senses somewhat to my senses and realized I was alive and safe.

This was the third brain surgery Graden has had.
Graden has a brain tumor that just likes him too much and keeps coming back.
Its a hard thing to deal with but you will never see Graden down because of it or feel sorry for himself. He is so incredibly strong and so amazing.