h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

Specifically, it was the removal of the tumor that damaged my pituitary causing the D.I.

I still haven't heard from my endocrinologist due to the holidays, but yeah, I could take something to mitigate this. They gave it to me one night in hospital, something that's all initials, DDAVP if I recall correctly, that simulates vasopressin to get my kidneys to concentrate fluids better. I could just use it at night to sleep better.

It may also improve as I heal.

Hopefully I'll learn more this coming week.

Also today I had my mother, a retired RN, remove a suture they told me would dissolve on its own. I had a long scar on my thigh where they scavenged tissue. That one the stitches started dissolving while I was still in hospital. I also had a small suture for my lumbar drain. When I was being debriefed before discharge, my nurse told me I'd have to come in to get the stitches removed, then she corrected herself and said they would dissolve. Well, it's a month later and the stitches were still there so we sterilized a set of (zirconium encrusted) tweezers and my Swiss army knife's small scissors and snip-snip, tug-tug done.

With a bit of luck, Clive should be dying as I type this.

Monday I had the Stereotactic Radiosurgery, aka Gamma Knife treatment.

My previous radiotherapy was 8 weeks, 5 days a week, about 1 hour a day on the gantry, about 1 minute exposure time in the path of a proton beam.

This time it was a single day, 101 minute exposure time to a total of 196 gamma ray beams.

I'd almost rather have the 80 separate doses.





What '80s film was it where the guy hiring his own murder claims to have "bone cancer"? Wasn't it Fletch?


To get the high accuracy needed for the Gamma Knife, they literally bolted my head into a frame. Early Monday morning I checked in to get put into the frame and have a preliminary MRI. My treatment that day was being "shadowed" by a young social worker named Helen. The nurse assisting in my fitting warned the social worker about how disturbing this procedure could be... to even witness! Some observers vomit. One new doctor passed out!

As the doctor (Prabhu, aka "The one with the boots") entered, he introduced himself as "your torturer for the day". The frame was slipped over my head for alignment and I was given four injections of local anesthetic just before the bolts were tightened snapping through my skin and pressing literally into my skull.

I could feel myself nearing shock. I did some deep breathing and tried to meditate and just held off that feeling of wanting to, but not being able to vomit. I managed to just keep my blood pressure from dropping through the floor.

From there, the day could only improve... but not by much.

They wheeled me down for my MRI. They attached the frame to the MRI gurney in such a way that my neck was compressed and misaligned. I thought surely it would be sprained by the time they were done. I was told to expect the MRI would only take 15-20 minutes, but the doctors ordered additional images so I was in there for 35 minutes. Oh, and while my normal MRIs are much longer, this was significantly louder with the sound being transmitted directly through my skull. That I was able to remain calm while in significant discomfort for even 35 minutes should have been commended.

I then had a chance for breakfast as they developed their 'PLAN' for my irradiation. Trying to eat an omelet, a biscuit with gravy, (I didn't even unpeel the overripe banana) with that head frame on was comical.

Finally I was taken to the Gamma Knife and bolted in. I was much more comfortable and got my choice of music to listen to for the following hour and forty minutes. I chose Portishead. The obvious choice would have been Radiohead, oh well.


The swelling was significant. The four points on my head are still rather tender and some of the swelling roamed and my left eyelid is filled with fluid now. Fortunately that eye is already permanently closed so it's just annoying and uncomfortable.


The doctors are rather confident this should be it for the tumor. There was a 5% chance of damage to my optic chiasm, but I haven't noticed any visual degradation.

There will be follow-up MRIs every 4 months for a while. Hopefully those will be uneventful.

Ouch!

Very happy to know that you have some decent medical insurance, BG.

Decent is stretching it a bit.

Any insurance would likely cover stuff like this as it's the type of big and rare thing insurance should cover. Of course, the bills haven't come in yet so I'm sure I'll see plenty more letters explaining how some things "exceed the plan limits". My insurance is pretty shitty mostly. It's a high deductible plan from a company no one's heard of (and now it uses a mail order pharmacy no one's heard of) and they just raised our deductibles and premiums for this year because so many of us dared to actually use our insurance last year. I suspect what they spend on my treatments will incur another rise next year.