2 Days That Felt Like an Eternity

The events of last 2 days have been far and away the most difficult that Kristine and I have faced in our entire lives. I’ve not slept at all in over 41 hours so bear with me if my post loses some focus.

After leaving Dr. Staddon’s office on Wednesday evening we were frightened by the diagnosis of brain lesions, but also hopeful that the steroids would temporarily suppress the pressure on Kristine’s brain until we could fully evaluate the options. Kristine struggled to climb the stairs that evening to reach our 3rd floor bedroom. The left leg that she had just hours before lifted almost a foot off the ground now required my assistance to reach the next step.

We went to bed that night but never fell asleep, both of us admitting our fear of missing what could be a final moment together. Kristine struggled to get comfortable and became frustrated by her limited movement. There was a rhythm throughout the night of scared silence and calming conversation. At around 2 in the morning Kristine said that she could no longer move her arm or her leg. Twice I had to literally carry her to and from the bathroom and hold her steady on the toilet. The most heart wrenching moment for me came when Kristine said, “we should be prepared that this could go quickly,” meaning that the situation could be the beginning of a quick and final decline to the end of her life. At 4am as I rotated Kristine’s limp but rigid left arm in circles to maintain its circulation, I decided that this had gone on too long and call an ambulance.

In the ER Kristine’s situation worsened still despite receiving a higher dosage of steroid. Her left limbs began to lose feeling, the left side of her face began to droop and her head throbbed in pain from increased cranial pressure to the point where she would scream out clenching and shaking her right hand. From this point forward the entire day was a roller coaster. The neurosurgical team viewed Kristine’s scans from the previous day. They determined that it was critical to operate within the next two days to remove the tumor on her brain. Within days quickly turned to within hours as they became more concerned over the worsening of her symptoms.

Kristine headed for scans and to the operating table by 11 am. At the time we both agreed that the surgery was worth the limited risk – a less than 5% chance of any complications like permanent paralysis or infection. But shortly after Kristine had been sedated and begun preoperative preparations, Dr. Lee, our Neurosurgeon, spoke with me about their findings from the latest scan. A blood vessel had burst sometime after the previous day’s scan around the tumor. This caused the tumor to expand, blood to fill up around the brain and explained why Kristine’s symptoms had worsened over such a short period of time. Dr. Lee retracted the previous prognosis for a much more disconcerting one. He now said that, “the probability of Kristine regaining full use of her left side was now zero.” There was no other choice though but to continue with the surgery. The alternative, according to the surgeon, was that Kristine would fall into a comma and eventually die.

I was truly pained by this decision, but there is no doubt it was the right one. Kristine is doing great after the surgery. In fact, she has already tried to pull out her intubating tubes (I even warned them about this one from the last surgery) and resorted to calling the nurses, “stingy water bitches” because they will not give her more than ice chips. Nonetheless I am terrified of having to break the news of this increased risk and of her having to cope with paralysis (after all, Kristine does not do well with limitations). Dr. Lee did sound more optimistic after the operation, recognizing that she is young and could regain more movement in her arm and face with only a limited amount of impaired movement in her leg.

Hey, if there is one person I know stubborn enough NOT to give into even paralysis, it’s Kristine.