I'm approaching a year on from when I had my brain haemorrhage and it's amazing how far I've come for which im so thankful but also how achingly frustrating progress can be sometimes. Brain injuries are curious things;being the wonderfully unique creature we are every brain injury will manifest slightly differently, there's no well trodden path of symptoms that are easily explained or treated.
In my world it often feels like I have gained a mysterious passenger whom delights in chucking out heightened responses, sensations or pain often when I least expect them. This list is not exclusive to brain injury I know, everybody says the wrong thing from time to time, misplaces a word, forgets their keys, gets headaches , the oddity of this new experience is that when something has kicked off in your head like it has in mine that my every sense feels very exaggerated. Its like I've bigged up all my sensory and emotional receptors. "I'd like some grief please?" , "certainly, would you like to go large with that?" "why yes". Actually , no I wouldn't but it appears I have no choice in my new state.
Pain can shoot up quickly and inexplicably and then can leave just as quickly but leaving behind a creeping exhaustion like you've just worked 16 hours straight even though it's only an hour since our hauled your arse out of bed.
Before my brain pop could have sat through ET, Lassie, Chalottes Web, Terms of Endearment and not shed a tear, some of you may say thats not a good thing. Now however you only have to waft a baby near me and I sniffle, shown a sad story on the news triggers full blown tears and a simple argument over tidying the kids bedroom apparently can end in tears as quickly as you can say " because I say so that's why!".
I am gradually getting to know these new modifications to my brain upgrade, I'm learning the signs , triggers and trying to limit the effect they can have on my everyday living. Not all the time though and this week saw me having brain and body scans to check that James and the gerbils were in ship shape condition as odd symptoms completely and quickly knocked me off kilter. Its all tickety boo though which is great but there's an element of Fluidity and surprise that is keeping me on my toes.
In my quest to recover I have been introduced to 'pacing' and it's beyond BORING. Yes, I know it makes logical sense to keep a steady pattern of activity , not too much rest but not too much excitement , you get the picture, but YAWN! it's hard to be this boring. Forced inactivity is such a strange beast, I even find myself rebelling against it which pretty much defeats the whole point of the exercise. I'll be sitting down having a quiet period and then find myself leaping up off the sofa and shoving a load of washing in just to be doing something! I mean I bloody hate washing,I never rushed to do it previously but the lure of doing something , anything is just irristable somedays and then I pay the price of rushing. Hey ho, progress is painful I suppose and I've come a long way in a short time, I have faith I'll get there, maybe wearing sunglasses and earplugs but I'll get there.
Friday, 1 February 2013
Friday, 11 January 2013
Skyfall with Nana
I have leant heavily over the last few months on every member of my family. They too have been on a journey that at times has been fearful and worrying but throughout this episode in our lives they have remained calm and offered me love and support at every turn , even if sometimes I'm too much of a grumpy sheep to accept it.(topical children's xmas play reference!). This unity has helped me build my strength and confidence so that i can slowly move forward and whilst it's slower than the pace I would wish for I can see the changes.
One thing about having this kind of event happen and the subsequent brain insult is that it is a very tortoise paced process to reclaim things you were so used to doing. Some might never be in reach but with others its about rebuilding the confidence that it's still ok to do it. Thankfully I've been able to do lots of things again for the first time; swimming was blissful but scary, riding a bike was challenging but probably a bit much too soon, wobbly is an understatement but bizarrely enough my real test of nerves So far was going to the cinema.
I've been left with some noise sensitivity and tinutus and bright lights bother me, and all that aside if I'm honest , what i was really nervous was that having that intensity of experience might be dangerous, would my head cope? But I don't Want to be scared of stuff, I need to move on. What to do? Step up my Nana. Yep , my ninety year old grandmother volunteered to be my companion on my first trip back to the theatre. So off we went on our adventure. one rainy afternoon in late November we taxied to the flicks with our mint imperials and ear plugs for me and watched Skyfall. Even with my ear plugs in I could still hear Nanas intake of breath in appreciation whenever Mr Craig removed his top, which he did a lot. Respect!
Fast forward to now and I'm mourning the passing of my vibrant and steady cinema companion but reflecting on the gift she gave me that day. Yes She checked i was ok but she didnt fuss me, she just had belief that it was all going to be ok, and encouraged me have the same faith and to take each day at a time. Her philosphy was to keep going until the point at which you no longer can enjoy yourself.
Laugh often.
Cry often.
Be greatful for the small things.
That is what she did and it served her well. So gosh I miss her but I'm stronger and happier for having known her. And I hope they have some fit Daniel Craig lookalikes werever she is, she'd like that!
One thing about having this kind of event happen and the subsequent brain insult is that it is a very tortoise paced process to reclaim things you were so used to doing. Some might never be in reach but with others its about rebuilding the confidence that it's still ok to do it. Thankfully I've been able to do lots of things again for the first time; swimming was blissful but scary, riding a bike was challenging but probably a bit much too soon, wobbly is an understatement but bizarrely enough my real test of nerves So far was going to the cinema.
I've been left with some noise sensitivity and tinutus and bright lights bother me, and all that aside if I'm honest , what i was really nervous was that having that intensity of experience might be dangerous, would my head cope? But I don't Want to be scared of stuff, I need to move on. What to do? Step up my Nana. Yep , my ninety year old grandmother volunteered to be my companion on my first trip back to the theatre. So off we went on our adventure. one rainy afternoon in late November we taxied to the flicks with our mint imperials and ear plugs for me and watched Skyfall. Even with my ear plugs in I could still hear Nanas intake of breath in appreciation whenever Mr Craig removed his top, which he did a lot. Respect!
Fast forward to now and I'm mourning the passing of my vibrant and steady cinema companion but reflecting on the gift she gave me that day. Yes She checked i was ok but she didnt fuss me, she just had belief that it was all going to be ok, and encouraged me have the same faith and to take each day at a time. Her philosphy was to keep going until the point at which you no longer can enjoy yourself.
Laugh often.
Cry often.
Be greatful for the small things.
That is what she did and it served her well. So gosh I miss her but I'm stronger and happier for having known her. And I hope they have some fit Daniel Craig lookalikes werever she is, she'd like that!
Tuesday, 18 December 2012
Santa gets his marching orders
Its been a while since I last updated my pop blog. The truth is things have settled down a little more in my world and as my horizons are currently quite narrow due to my licence still in the possession of the DVLA and my inability to walk long distance. Outcome is I've not had much to report and I figured an update on my latest baking achievements might be a bore.( mince pie cupcakes if you're interested)
James and the gerbils have settled themselves into an uneasy but tolerable existence. My pain is manageable and each day I try and find something good to be happy about.
People often ask me how it feels having this strange drain in my head. Well it hurts when its really cold but it is metal in part so no surprise there and my head is pretty lumpy but then it was always slightly odd shaped. The best way I can explain the feeling is that it's like having the queen of all hangovers without any of the fun of the night before. I haven't dared have a drink since March explosion as the permanent hungover state kind of suggests that a real booze hangover could be very nasty indeed.
One welcome side benefit of all my head explosion business is the return of my old friend 'coca cola 'back into my life. Me and the brown stuff had a love love relationship in the nineties and now we're back together forever. Okay in truth it was mainly because it was the perfect mixer for Bacardi , but I was working long hard hours in retail and my liquid refreshment and often meal of choice was Coke and boy did it keep me going. I soon realised this sugary caffeine concoction was not doing me much good back then so weaned myself off. Then many years later the brain docs whilst witnessing my rather violent reaction to a lumber puncture and subsequent low brain fluid pressure suggested that I drink some coke. So that's good enough for me, after 15 years off the stuff when my head pressure is low I now reach for a full fat coke, feel no guilt and gosh it tastes great. Don't think they'll be signing me up for an advert just yet though what with my lumpy head, I can just see the slogan including the word'shunt!
When I'm sipping my cold nectar drink it often gets me thinking back to my retail days; I has such fun then and i chuckled to myself the other day remembering that I fired Father Christmas. Working in a big London store as the Toy manager meant i got to take on the grotto each year. Elves, you expect trouble from them, we hired and fired loads of them, inappropriate relations with another Elf in the grotto after hours was just one of may reasons. FC though you would expect to know better. Letting Santa go was not a decision I took lightly but unfortunately my attempt at team building amongst the Christmas temporary staff obviously worked too well when they took Santa over the pub and got him tipsy at lunchtime. The smell of Johnny Walker is not a welcome one in any grotto so Santa had to go. Christmas cheer was in short supply during that conversation. So I guess this mummy won't be caught kissing Santa Claus as he'd probably run a mile . I wish all of you a healthy and happy Christmas with your family and friends and thanks for the love and support ive had this year as I head to my first Christmas with my new, some would say improved, head.
Hopefully the gerbils won't get too excited over the christmas period.
James and the gerbils have settled themselves into an uneasy but tolerable existence. My pain is manageable and each day I try and find something good to be happy about.
People often ask me how it feels having this strange drain in my head. Well it hurts when its really cold but it is metal in part so no surprise there and my head is pretty lumpy but then it was always slightly odd shaped. The best way I can explain the feeling is that it's like having the queen of all hangovers without any of the fun of the night before. I haven't dared have a drink since March explosion as the permanent hungover state kind of suggests that a real booze hangover could be very nasty indeed.
One welcome side benefit of all my head explosion business is the return of my old friend 'coca cola 'back into my life. Me and the brown stuff had a love love relationship in the nineties and now we're back together forever. Okay in truth it was mainly because it was the perfect mixer for Bacardi , but I was working long hard hours in retail and my liquid refreshment and often meal of choice was Coke and boy did it keep me going. I soon realised this sugary caffeine concoction was not doing me much good back then so weaned myself off. Then many years later the brain docs whilst witnessing my rather violent reaction to a lumber puncture and subsequent low brain fluid pressure suggested that I drink some coke. So that's good enough for me, after 15 years off the stuff when my head pressure is low I now reach for a full fat coke, feel no guilt and gosh it tastes great. Don't think they'll be signing me up for an advert just yet though what with my lumpy head, I can just see the slogan including the word'shunt!
When I'm sipping my cold nectar drink it often gets me thinking back to my retail days; I has such fun then and i chuckled to myself the other day remembering that I fired Father Christmas. Working in a big London store as the Toy manager meant i got to take on the grotto each year. Elves, you expect trouble from them, we hired and fired loads of them, inappropriate relations with another Elf in the grotto after hours was just one of may reasons. FC though you would expect to know better. Letting Santa go was not a decision I took lightly but unfortunately my attempt at team building amongst the Christmas temporary staff obviously worked too well when they took Santa over the pub and got him tipsy at lunchtime. The smell of Johnny Walker is not a welcome one in any grotto so Santa had to go. Christmas cheer was in short supply during that conversation. So I guess this mummy won't be caught kissing Santa Claus as he'd probably run a mile . I wish all of you a healthy and happy Christmas with your family and friends and thanks for the love and support ive had this year as I head to my first Christmas with my new, some would say improved, head.
Hopefully the gerbils won't get too excited over the christmas period.
Monday, 19 November 2012
Tunes that mark time
Strange isn't it the effect music can have?
I am certainly aware that taking time to stop and listen to songs has always been an important part of my life, and the amazing daughters are beginning to find their tastes and style now which is a joy to watch if not to listen to. I grew up with music playing most of the time at home and now have a very fond attachment to Fleetwood Mac, Gerry Rafferty and even Dr Hook and I'm word perfect to most Rod Stewart tracks. ( That gives my age away!!) Later on I explored my own tastes blowing my pocket money on the latest vinyl single. First single? Yazoo, 'Don't Go'. I had the added bonus of an elder and wiser sister who bought far more records than I but which I could then copy! The technology of cassettes was great for Top 40 mixes,( copying big sis's tunes)and the gift of personlised compilations always introducing something new from dear friends. Some of these relics I have kept to this day, and an airplay of any tracks from them transports me and my mood. Barrel's boy may have gone digital but his mixes still delight me as they did 26 years ago and are responsible for connecting me to artists whom I may never have found.
I deployed a wide choice of deflectors during my unplanned, lengthy , uncomfortable stay in hospital to distract me in those darker times; prayer, chocolate , writing, visits from friends and family and of course music. Music soothes, energises, rocks and moves me. My music was a mainstay in the regime of the hospital day. I only had to switch on the iPod and I could transport myself. ( I even texted Jo Whiley show one night for a Cure ballad....it didn't get played though!) It got my mind recalling cracking tracks that have marked special and momentous times in my life; 'Fields of Gold' Sting version at my wedding, 'My Way' at Gorgeous Great Uncle Gus funeral, 'Unbelievable' by Happy Mondays which played constantly during a frantic and fun girls holiday, Frankie Valy, 'Oh What a Night' takes me straight back to Locust Valley. Songs just kept popping up. I even replayed the entire dance routine a girlfriend and I did for Wham's 'Young Guns'; (just in memory, I'm not up to doing that at present even if my hair is very suited to that era). My grunge phase is hazy, my dance phase hazier still and some tunes I truly love will never be confessed.
A thought grabbed me during these recollections; what tunes would get played at my funeral. Afear not. I'm not melancholy and maudlin, in fact I've had similar discussion on this subject at dinner parties. Yes it's true that during my previous 'pop' episode in March death was a real possibility, now , whilst my health is far from perfect and at times still scary and painful, my demise is hopefully a long way off in my future. After a few moments spent mulling this over I realised picking tunes for this kind of event is a thorny problem best left to those behind to sort out as it would be other people's good memories being triggered not mine. So I end this ramble of no particular purpose just being thankful for the music, ( no, no ABBA please) the good and the bad, and if had to have my pick today for just one 'Eulogy Song', (which no doubt would be different if you asked me tomorrow, next year....in twenty years.....you get the picture) is 'Stand' by REM.
I am certainly aware that taking time to stop and listen to songs has always been an important part of my life, and the amazing daughters are beginning to find their tastes and style now which is a joy to watch if not to listen to. I grew up with music playing most of the time at home and now have a very fond attachment to Fleetwood Mac, Gerry Rafferty and even Dr Hook and I'm word perfect to most Rod Stewart tracks. ( That gives my age away!!) Later on I explored my own tastes blowing my pocket money on the latest vinyl single. First single? Yazoo, 'Don't Go'. I had the added bonus of an elder and wiser sister who bought far more records than I but which I could then copy! The technology of cassettes was great for Top 40 mixes,( copying big sis's tunes)and the gift of personlised compilations always introducing something new from dear friends. Some of these relics I have kept to this day, and an airplay of any tracks from them transports me and my mood. Barrel's boy may have gone digital but his mixes still delight me as they did 26 years ago and are responsible for connecting me to artists whom I may never have found.
I deployed a wide choice of deflectors during my unplanned, lengthy , uncomfortable stay in hospital to distract me in those darker times; prayer, chocolate , writing, visits from friends and family and of course music. Music soothes, energises, rocks and moves me. My music was a mainstay in the regime of the hospital day. I only had to switch on the iPod and I could transport myself. ( I even texted Jo Whiley show one night for a Cure ballad....it didn't get played though!) It got my mind recalling cracking tracks that have marked special and momentous times in my life; 'Fields of Gold' Sting version at my wedding, 'My Way' at Gorgeous Great Uncle Gus funeral, 'Unbelievable' by Happy Mondays which played constantly during a frantic and fun girls holiday, Frankie Valy, 'Oh What a Night' takes me straight back to Locust Valley. Songs just kept popping up. I even replayed the entire dance routine a girlfriend and I did for Wham's 'Young Guns'; (just in memory, I'm not up to doing that at present even if my hair is very suited to that era). My grunge phase is hazy, my dance phase hazier still and some tunes I truly love will never be confessed.
A thought grabbed me during these recollections; what tunes would get played at my funeral. Afear not. I'm not melancholy and maudlin, in fact I've had similar discussion on this subject at dinner parties. Yes it's true that during my previous 'pop' episode in March death was a real possibility, now , whilst my health is far from perfect and at times still scary and painful, my demise is hopefully a long way off in my future. After a few moments spent mulling this over I realised picking tunes for this kind of event is a thorny problem best left to those behind to sort out as it would be other people's good memories being triggered not mine. So I end this ramble of no particular purpose just being thankful for the music, ( no, no ABBA please) the good and the bad, and if had to have my pick today for just one 'Eulogy Song', (which no doubt would be different if you asked me tomorrow, next year....in twenty years.....you get the picture) is 'Stand' by REM.
Friday, 26 October 2012
Weathervane girl
Its been three months since James Shunt moved in to my cranial space and we appear to be jogging along right now. I almost hate saying it out loud for fear of jinxing myself but my sickness is managed, the headaches are less and the dizziness comes and goes a will which means I'm in a whole better place than even a few weeks back so pleased that some progress has been made on my journey to improved health. A few weeks back though the first time I caught a cold I thought I was in trouble. I reacted like a man with flu. In defence of my over reaction I wasnt entirely sure that a cold was all of what I was experiencing and my head had fun playing games with my rational mind by trying to persuade me that all manners of horrors were happening. I calmed down after managing to assure myself that I would feel even worse if something had gone awry with the head plumbing and groundwork; great internal argument eh? I might feel crappy but not as crappy as I could or have felt! And yes I realise I'm sounding slightly crazy for my silent dual personality inner dialogue but hey the reassurance worked and my first cold has passed with only the advent of a few more grey hairs which don't really detract from my scarecrow hair, which is how my daughter describes my current look!
One other new side effect of all this brain work is I am now more attuned to weather changes than ever before. I am like one of those little weather vane houses with a little woman on it. Thinking about it they had slightly odd hairstyles too so I may cultivate the look, my friend in switzerland will probably be able to get me some national dress outfits....Yes I know that with the easy availability of the iPhone weather app the kudos of being able to predict weather changes is lower than it probably was in the nineteenth century but I'm takin the positive angles anywere where I can find them. For the science lovers amongst you it appears that I am now ultra sensitive to the molecular pressure in the atmosphere....yep folks I can tell if it's going to rain based on the pressure I feel in my head! My theory is that I now have some air bubbles in my previously closed system. Now I'm not suggesting or asking the friends who live near me to tap me on the head a few times to get a decent reading but I'm pretty sure that thanks to James I will never again hang the washing out only for it to be rainwashed a few hours later. And if Im carring an umbrella you have been warned! I also suspect I will develop a slightly nerdy interest in air pressure as it directly affects how I will be feeling on a day to day basis but I suppose that will come in handy for a school science project at some point. Mr Raw would be so proud that my physics lessons are coming back to haunt me.
Friday, 5 October 2012
Ice cream life
They used to say you know you're getting on a bit when the policemen start looking young.
Well this means I must be ancient because I swear one of the surgical team doing my procedure last week was no more than 16. I was welcomed into theatre by a very hunky team of young men which was slightly disconcerting. I mean we all knew that in a few minutes I would be flashing my newly coiffured bikini line for them to send lashings of iodine mixture into the grey matter.
Its been a long time since i flashed good looking young men. Portugal 97 i think! Still we passed the time talking about the weather and such as we English do in situations like this and it went without a hitch. We await news of what the noodle experts make of it. I got to see counting nurse whilst back in, guess what? she still can't count, I couldnt resist checking!! I also almost did myself a mischief laughing at the hilarious reviews for men's veet hair removal on amazon. Esteemed MIL also found them amusing, I just don't recommend that amount of giggling when you're lying flat trying to be still.
James shunt has arrived at a setting that appears manageable and i wait in hope that at some point in my future there will be an intelligent shunt for hydrocephalus. A cross between Siri, the best app ever and probably invented by Dyson..(or RB). I can imagine it now.
Tifty, "what's happening in there James?"
James " your left ventricle is overdriving, I'm turning you down a notch"
How cool would that be? Predictive shunting.
Another cool thing that the Children were interested for a nano second was that Roald Dahl helped invent a cerebral shunt. A small fact we learnt at the end of a bedtime read of George's marvellous medicine. I was able to point at my head and for the first time rather proudly say," mummy's got one of them". It seems i am becoming more accepting of my hardware.
Time is still passing slowly with me. My physical world is smaller than the one I previously knew. If I walk too far then exhaustion finds me, if am somewhere noisy then dizziness jostles and unbalances me and if I think too much then everything seems to stop as if my brain is callng 'time'.
Hmmm, thats a thought, there is a ringing in my head that accompanies it, dont say James and the gerbils are runnng a pub!
All that said , there have been more better days than even just a few week ago so I try and steal parts of the day to catch up with people I love and whom make me laugh and to achieve small simple tasks. That makes me content. For now! Someone told me to 'eat the ice cream whilst it's in your dish and before it melts' so I think I'm living an ice cream life right now.
Mint choc chip flavour.
Well this means I must be ancient because I swear one of the surgical team doing my procedure last week was no more than 16. I was welcomed into theatre by a very hunky team of young men which was slightly disconcerting. I mean we all knew that in a few minutes I would be flashing my newly coiffured bikini line for them to send lashings of iodine mixture into the grey matter.
Its been a long time since i flashed good looking young men. Portugal 97 i think! Still we passed the time talking about the weather and such as we English do in situations like this and it went without a hitch. We await news of what the noodle experts make of it. I got to see counting nurse whilst back in, guess what? she still can't count, I couldnt resist checking!! I also almost did myself a mischief laughing at the hilarious reviews for men's veet hair removal on amazon. Esteemed MIL also found them amusing, I just don't recommend that amount of giggling when you're lying flat trying to be still.
James shunt has arrived at a setting that appears manageable and i wait in hope that at some point in my future there will be an intelligent shunt for hydrocephalus. A cross between Siri, the best app ever and probably invented by Dyson..(or RB). I can imagine it now.
Tifty, "what's happening in there James?"
James " your left ventricle is overdriving, I'm turning you down a notch"
How cool would that be? Predictive shunting.
Another cool thing that the Children were interested for a nano second was that Roald Dahl helped invent a cerebral shunt. A small fact we learnt at the end of a bedtime read of George's marvellous medicine. I was able to point at my head and for the first time rather proudly say," mummy's got one of them". It seems i am becoming more accepting of my hardware.
Time is still passing slowly with me. My physical world is smaller than the one I previously knew. If I walk too far then exhaustion finds me, if am somewhere noisy then dizziness jostles and unbalances me and if I think too much then everything seems to stop as if my brain is callng 'time'.
Hmmm, thats a thought, there is a ringing in my head that accompanies it, dont say James and the gerbils are runnng a pub!
All that said , there have been more better days than even just a few week ago so I try and steal parts of the day to catch up with people I love and whom make me laugh and to achieve small simple tasks. That makes me content. For now! Someone told me to 'eat the ice cream whilst it's in your dish and before it melts' so I think I'm living an ice cream life right now.
Mint choc chip flavour.
Saturday, 8 September 2012
Happy Annie
Today is exactly 6 months since my head pop.
Not sure if that is something to celebrate as an anniversary or not.
I Know that being here is definitely worth cherishing but the day itself...hmmm not sure about that. I am pretty sure my close family and friends who were with me back in march would prefer to forget that day entirely, me, well I can't remember it anyway so I have a head start. But here i am, the sun is shining and that was then and this is now.
It's been another few weeks of ups and down in the tifty house. James like any rogue racing driver is doing his own thing regardless of whether it suits my needs...so arrogant! so my shunt has needed adjusting , not once, twice but three times ( a lady?). It is a bit like adjusting your car tyre pressure, even the kit is a bit similar, And now we wait again to see if this setting is more suited to the gerbils pee rate..
Folks your brain is amazing, it rolls and moves and adjusts the fluid like a perfectly oiled machine, my brain with James Shunt however is a bit more crude and clunky, and yes on occasion noisy. No sudden movements for me unless I wants be dizzier than I was after too many champagne cocktails in NYC many moons ago. At times this makes me despair. My body is healing well but nausea and dizziness mean I can't take the walks or do the things I so desperately want to do. Patience, time, is my daiy mantra but blooming difficult to swallow sometimes.
The brain docs will be taking a peek inside my noodle at the end of the month to check that the platinum coil they so cleverly placed is still there...."what you mean it can move?" yes that was my reaction too. Apparently very unlikely but worth checking. So how do they take a look? Well obviously they go up through your groin!! So that's something I have learnt, non cutting brain procedures require a bikini wax as part of preparation so that its not embarrassing to face the surgeon the following day. Who knew?
Onwards and upwards, each day is new and full of possibility, ok some of them I just have to lie around doing very little but I've come so far already. 6 months ago I didn't die, and in my eyes that's a pretty super, amazing and fantastic thing to recognise and celebrate.
Not sure if that is something to celebrate as an anniversary or not.
I Know that being here is definitely worth cherishing but the day itself...hmmm not sure about that. I am pretty sure my close family and friends who were with me back in march would prefer to forget that day entirely, me, well I can't remember it anyway so I have a head start. But here i am, the sun is shining and that was then and this is now.
It's been another few weeks of ups and down in the tifty house. James like any rogue racing driver is doing his own thing regardless of whether it suits my needs...so arrogant! so my shunt has needed adjusting , not once, twice but three times ( a lady?). It is a bit like adjusting your car tyre pressure, even the kit is a bit similar, And now we wait again to see if this setting is more suited to the gerbils pee rate..
Folks your brain is amazing, it rolls and moves and adjusts the fluid like a perfectly oiled machine, my brain with James Shunt however is a bit more crude and clunky, and yes on occasion noisy. No sudden movements for me unless I wants be dizzier than I was after too many champagne cocktails in NYC many moons ago. At times this makes me despair. My body is healing well but nausea and dizziness mean I can't take the walks or do the things I so desperately want to do. Patience, time, is my daiy mantra but blooming difficult to swallow sometimes.
The brain docs will be taking a peek inside my noodle at the end of the month to check that the platinum coil they so cleverly placed is still there...."what you mean it can move?" yes that was my reaction too. Apparently very unlikely but worth checking. So how do they take a look? Well obviously they go up through your groin!! So that's something I have learnt, non cutting brain procedures require a bikini wax as part of preparation so that its not embarrassing to face the surgeon the following day. Who knew?
Onwards and upwards, each day is new and full of possibility, ok some of them I just have to lie around doing very little but I've come so far already. 6 months ago I didn't die, and in my eyes that's a pretty super, amazing and fantastic thing to recognise and celebrate.
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