Gavin

Gavin had his neurosurgery way back in the beginning of September, right after I got back from Burning Man.

He had his epidermoid cyst removed and his skull scraped to remove all traces of the stalk that penetrated the skull, but not the dura.

The dura is the outermost membrane covering the brain and had it penetrated, it would have required brain surgery to remove.

We caught it just in time.

The biopsy came back and confirmed that the cyst was indeed a benign epidermoid cyst composed of keratin, sebaceous material, and skin.

Whew!

Gavin was a trooper.

He was out of the hospital within a day and a half of surgery AND he was off pain meds in two days.

About two weeks after his surgery, he had 14 staples removed from the back of his head which were holding the incision together while it healed.

All in all, it was a stressful time for me.

I feel lucky that I had the opportunity to stay with him in the hospital and during his first few days of recovery.

Gavin is back to his usual self, playing video games and enjoying the company of our various pets.

I feel insanely lucky that we caught this cyst when we did and had the wherewithal to deal with it.

The surgery and subsequent hospitalization cost $57,000.

My share of the hospital bill?

$150.

Not too shabby.

The adventure never ends

I must be going to Burning Man.

I know that I’ve made up my mind to go because I bought a Burner Express ticket from Black Rock City to Reno/Tahoe Airport at the end of the burn.

Aaaaannnd I bought my flight home.

I will literally arrive at 7 am and immediately head out to my son’s final MRI to prep him for his dermoid cyst removal surgery.

And then his surgery is the next day.

I know what you’re thinking.

You’re thinking, didn’t she say she felt unbalanced and needed to equalize in order to go to the burn?

Why yes, I did say that.

I would not be going to the Burn if I felt like I wasn’t doing better.

I’m so high on anti-anxiety meds I can’t even worry about a hangnail.

Sure, this may impact my drinking.

I may not consume as much as I usually do when I’m on vacation, but that’s a good thing.

So here’s the plan:

Thursday: Load up the Motorbeast with Tejas.

Friday: Drive to Reno in the Motorbeast and stay with my sister.

Saturday: Head into Black Rock City as early as possible. Expect 4 – 8 hour lines, even with Early Arrival.

Sunday through Sunday: Enjoy Burning Man (check out Scotchfest, enjoy the Saunadome, visit my friends in Ali Bar Bar, watch the man burn, get my cocksucking certificate for the 4th year in a row, ride on the Partysnail, check out the Slut Olympics. . .)

Monday: Leave on the Burner Express bus to go back to Reno and stay at my sister’s house (enjoy the hot tub after a thorough washing in her waterfall shower).

Tuesday: Fly home at butt-crack-o’clock in the morning. . .

And then the work begins as I look after my little boy (he’s 6’3” but he’s still little to me).

The adventure never ends. . .

 

 

Update on my son

Well, lately good things have been happening.

First, we found out that the lump on the back of my son’s head is simply a dermoid cyst, a benign saclike growth present since birth created by leftover embryonic cells.

Of all the things that it could be, this is the best.

Then, there was a question of how much the cyst was growing into his skull.

If there was significant growth, then he’d have to get part of his skull removed along with the cyst.

This type of surgery requires a neurosurgeon.

Well, yesterday we found out there is no involvement of the bone.

Meaning, my son has a benign growth that can be removed without any removal of his skull.

Woop woop!

The neurosurgeon is still going to perform the surgery on account of the cyst’s location on the back of his skull, but theoretically a pediatric surgeon could perform the surgery.

Of course, no surgery is without risk.

Especially one that involves general anesthesia.

And there is the risk of blood loss since surgery on the head is usually accompanied by significant bleeding.

So in all likelihood, we will need to donate blood for his surgery.

But no cancer.

No bone loss.

And for this I am truly thankful.

Life Goes On

Sorry I went AWOL on my blog for a few days.

As it turns out, producing a weekend long campout in the mountains AND dealing with your son’s upcoming neurosurgery simultaneously has made it challenging to blog on a regular basis.

Rest assured I will make every attempt to keep up with the flow.

My son had a CT scan yesterday that took 4 hours.

Why did it take 4 hours?

Because the Radiologist had to be consulted to make sure the right test was run.

Something that COULD have been figured out AHEAD OF TIME, but at least they were cautious.

The CT scan was done for the sole purpose of seeing how much of my son’s skull is compromised by the dermoid cyst.

As I’ve said earlier, my son needs to have a portion of his skull taken out in order to fully remove the cyst so it won’t grow back.

I appreciate that the doctors are insistent that we run all the necessary tests so that they know what they’re dealing with BEFORE they cut.

So there you have it in a nutshell.

The latest and greatest in my life.

Oh, and today is my oldest son’s 19th birthday!

So there will some celebrating despite the stress I’m under.

Life goes on.

And so will this blog.

Update on my son

Here’s the latest on my son.

He has what appears to be a benign dermoid cyst, a saclike growth present at birth.

No big deal.

The problem with his cyst is that it’s compromising his skull.

Meaning a portion of his skull will need to be removed with the cyst by a neurosurgeon.

According to the pediatric surgeon, this is a challenging surgery because

  • The cyst is on the back of his head which means he has to be operated on facing down, always considered a riskier surgery.
  • It’s also considered a high blood loss surgery (so family and friends may need to donate blood for him).
  • There’s always the risk of infection (gah!).

I am personally more than a little freaked out about this.

I looked up dermoid cyst on the internet and found out it’s a type of teratoma (a tumor made up of several different types of tissue).

A sacrococcogeal teratoma is exactly what caused the death of my son Douglas way back in 1998.

I don’t think I need to explain the fear that is coursing through my body right now at the thought of another teratoma threatening the well being of my child.

If you are the religious sort, please say a prayer for my son.

And if you are not religious, please send good energy and positive thoughts our way.

We’re doing better but we’re not out of the woods yet.

Prayers and good thoughts

Screen Shot 2015-10-28 at 12.35.04 PMSend your prayers and good thoughts my way today.

My son is going in for surgery.

He has a medical diagnosis of prognathism (aka underbite) and is having severe jaw problems because of it.

The poor boy is almost on a liquid diet right now because eating is so painful for him.

The usual treatment for prognathism involves breaking his jaw and piecing it back together in a more suitable position.

We’re hoping to avoid this with some corrective measures involving years of major orthodontia.

But before we can do that, he has to have some preliminary surgery taken care of.

So that’s what’s going on today.

He’s going under anesthesia so it’s a major procedure.

Please keep him (us) in your thoughts and prayers and hope for a speedy recovery.

Feel free to IM me, if you have my info (or michelle@unblunder.com). I’ll just be sitting in the waiting room, S T R E S S I N G ! (And my ex husband will be there).

Love you all.

My glamorous life

The thing about living with someone who is blind but won’t admit it, is that accidents will happen.

And the thing about accidents is that you can come home from work to find a hand has been sliced open and your stubborn loved one (who is a board-certified physician) absolutely INSISTS that he possesses the ability to stitch it up himself. Only since he can’t see, YOU wind up jamming a needle and thread into his hand and stitching up the wound yourself amidst a puddle of blood.

I can now perform minor surgery.

My life is so glamorous.