by Bill Curtis

I’m still on a short leash after my Craniotomy on December 30th. Shoveling snow is a no-no, using the stepladder to fill the bird feeder, is out, and Mary and my son Bill are my Chauffeurs. After 60 years in the pilots seat it’s tough sitting in the co-pilots seat, and tougher yet not making suggestions to the chauffeurs.

Its not that I can’t do these things, its because   I haven’t been given permission to do them. I’m supposed to walk each day, so I do a mile each day, across one bridge, along the street on the opposite side of the Rahway, then to the footbridge to cross back to our street, and back home. On the snow days I do my mile on the stationary bike.

I’ve become very protective of my conk since the surgery. Where normally I’d take a little slide on an icy spot, I avoid that now, and I know I’ll never be allowed back on my trusty bike without a helmet. Which gives me a good thing to wish for on Father’s Day.

I’d recommend cranial surgery over abdominal surgery any day. It doesn’t hurt and it doesn’t kill your appetite. I never missed a meal in the 3 days in the hospital. It has upset my coiffure somewhat. I had to get a short haircut so one side matched up to the side that was shaved, and its growing back weirdly, and the top that was sparse before all this now looks like a patch of lawn that was abused. But, hey! If that’s my worst problem I lucked out.

I’ve been researching how cranial surgery is done. The surgeon secures your head in a fixture so its immobilized, cuts a flap of the flesh from the operative area. With the bone exposed he uses a high-speed router to make a hole, which is then the beginning of the cut that continues cutting around the bone till the opening is big enough to do what has to be done.

When as in my case the large clot was removed and the bleeder was found and repaired, the bone flap “which is the piece removed” is secured back in place, and the skin flap is stapled back in place, and you’re all done. I could have walked out of there right after waking up but I was anchored in place, by stockings that inflate and deflate, by a blood oxygen sensor, and little sensors, all over my back and chest, a blood pressure cuff, a catheter, and an IV.

In a room by my self, my only diversion was watching the monitor that was displaying readings of all my sensors. I’d just start to doze and the stockings would inflate and deflate, then I’d be nodding off again and the blood pressure cuff would inflate and deflate. Then the little sensor on my finger would come off and an alarm would sound and I’d put it back on.

After awhile I figured it out that after 3 beeps the blood pressure cuff would do its thing, and then after 2 beeps the stockings would do their thing. And all the while the monitor was tracing across the screen with all the readings in different colors, AND if any other poor soul wasn’t doing well its room number would pop up flashing red and beeping. I forgot to mention that I had two thin hoses coming out of the top of my head each with a suction cup like a turkey baster draining my conk. I was very conscious of these and afraid to move and disturb them.

So while I wasn’t in any pain, I was so attached with wires and hoses it wasn’t conducive to sleep. That first night after my visitors left and the day shift left I was awakened from a deep sleep in the wee hours by a stranger, someone I’d not seen before. I thought I’d awakened in Iraq and this person might be one of the Taliban come to do me in. But it was just one of the night nurses.

Did I say no pain? I had no pain till midday of my second day when my super efficient nurse Ursula came to remove the shunt from my arm. I was doing so well I didn’t need it and she was going also going to remove one of the drain hose from the top of my head. She said this is going to hurt! (When they tell you that you KNOW it’s going to hurt)  The hose came out, it was nothing. Then she handed me the remote control from the bed and said, “grab this with both hands and hang on” and bam, bam, bam!  She shot 3 staples to close the hole where the hose had been. WELL that hurt!  Yes it did.

But I guess it’s like having a baby, you forget it right away. But if I have to go back in for another session I’ll remember that part.

Early in the morning of the 3rd day all my hoses and sensors came off. The last hose came out easily and for some reason didn’t really hurt. I got up and put my own PJ’s on and walked to another room. I spent that day luxuriating in bed unattached to any electronics, able to wiggle around in bed and not disturb any wires. I had the entire family visit. And a delicious piece of standing rib roast for supper.

The whole ordeal was very trying for everyone but me. I knew how I felt, but to have to sweat out brain surgery for a loved one. Facing that unknown, and waiting for the conclusion of the surgery, and then visiting the patient with all the squiggly lines running across the monitor must be very difficult. I’m glad I was the patient. Early in morning of 4th day I checked out. My wife and faithful chauffeur  headed for home happy that experience was over.

This Thursday I have to have another CAT scan done, and a week after that will see the Dr. who will read the scan and either parole me, or sentence me to more time.

Bye.