Perseverance

Sunday we crested the one month mark past surgery.  Amidst the celebration I realized I had not blogged explicitly about his final diagnosis.  Richard entered surgery with a tentative diagnosis of a colloid cyst in the 3^rd ventricle of the brain. After surgery the diagnosis had changed to read “intraventicular vascular malformation.”  Rather than finding a colloid cyst which would resemble a gooseberry they met with a “mulberry type appearing lesion” with evidence of past bleeding.  My personal speculation is that Richard may have experience that bleeding on December 28 when we first went to the emergency room and discovered the little lesion on his CT scan. 

Regarding his rehabilitation, to measure Richard’s improvement I need look no further than his e-mail sent box.  He has only sent three e-mails.  On February 7 he sent a four word note with a major misspelling. On February 23 he sent an 80+ word message with clear grammar and perfect spelling. 

Remaining challenge?  Fatigue and thinking are top of the list right next to getting Richard to see that he is making progress.  He sees taking several minutes to write that 80+ e-mail as insufficient improvement to call progress.  He gets fatigued just thinking, so he easily gets upset with simple tasks.  Making choices wears him out.  “Honey, do you want a burrito or a frittata for supper?”  That’s enough to bring on the desire for a nap.  We keep trying. We keep praying. We keep working.  That adds up to perseverance as only the Lord can grant.   

Grounded by the Snow

Yesterday, Richard insisted that John and I return to Rolla, especially in anticipation of the big winter storm pending.  The storm hit. I was awakened by the plink on the bedroom windows at 4 a.m.and by 5 a.m.it was a hardy chatter of freezing rain. I heard a couple lone cars moving along our road as normal in that 4-5 a.m. hour.  I started calculating how I could slip out to get to St. Louis. Since the majority of folks would be canceled out of work and school, the roads would be deserted. I resolved to wait until daylight (about 7:30 am) and then to sneak out.

At 6:44 a.m. Richard called.  His first words - "Stay home."  I melted into tears.  He repeated his command.  I could tell he had practiced to be able to sound decisive and clear.  Why did he have to have speech back right now?!??!  I was silent in my tears.  I could not speak lest I give myself away as the fountain of tears I'd turned into.

"Are you still there?" he queried with effort on each word.

"Yes," I finally ventured, "I'm here. But there are cars on the road."

I knew I wasn't convincing him.  He was unswerving.  I relented.

Since I didn't leave a charger for Richard's cell phone we must be frugal with our talk time.  Richard's aphasia limits him to talk only - no texting since the keypad and the struggle of spelling overwhelms him. We have talked for about 10 minutes every 2 1/2 hours so far today.

He said the social worker visited to help set up home-bound speech therapy but he still has no time table for his discharge.

One other thing I have not told you, my dear readers, is what the doctor reported was actually removed during the surgery.  The initial diagnosis was a colloid cyst which would be a smooth gelatinous sack looking a bit like a gooseberry. That is not what the doctor found when he reached it. Rather he described it as a mulberry in size, character and color.  Dr. Matz said the brain tissue around it was rust-colored making it suspicious that a small bleed had occurred at some time in the past. We are in baited anticipation with Dr. Matz to learn what the pathologist report will say hopefully later this week.

Meanwhile, we watch the snow and wait.