What do YOU eat after brain surgery? part 1

So, what kind of patient was I? I like to think that I brought a beaming ray of light to the halls of 8D at UPMC; of course I did, I mean... how could I have not? Well, lets think retrospectively about my five and a half days on the floor.


I began Monday, Sept. 26, (my dad's birthday - you're welcome dad), innocently enough, "relaxing" in pre-op. It's a very fortunate notion that when the nurse anesthetist visits you and says, "try to relax", they follow that remark with an injection of pharmaceuticals. (Anyone else think they have a peculiar smell?).


Meanwhile, a volley of what I could determine were either residents or fellows continually walked by my bed; I could hear them through their eyes, "Oooo, chordoma patient, wonder if I can get in on that." Keep you're grimy hands away from my head you interlopers, (but I know they have to learn somehow). One  eventually "swaggered" over; wanting to add his name to the team of doctors for the day. I literally said, "Okay, hold on, exactly what would you be doing during the surgery?" Caught off guard he coughs out, "Oh, I'm just beginning my fellowship here, I'll be aligning the pins in your head..." I thought, 'yeah right'... "So, where did you go to med school, where did you do your residency?" I could see in his face, "cm'on kid, sign the papers, don't be such an arse" (I say 'arse' because he had a british accent, he did his residency at the Royal National Throat, Nose and Ear Hospital, England.) That sounds fancy and he's just an ENT, no brain contact... I signed away.


They began wheeling me towards the OR; I'm like, "Hey, I think I have to go to the bathroom." To which they remarked, "We'll take care of that." I was thinking, "are you sure, because I am not thinking that you and I are contemplating the same type of bathroom visit, I mean, you're wheeling me back to roto-rooter through my nose and into my skull case. It kinda feels the the proverbial poo is about to hit the fan." Smiles and all, I nodded in acceptance, I mean, it will be their problem anyway... I'll be asleep.


We get into the OR, hey there's my ENT I've never met. He introduced himself, (I already knew who he was). "Hey, how are you doing? You're going to have a good time with my nose, wide nostrils allow for extra instruments and I hear it's straight shot back..." Fade to black... (They snuck in some of those pharmaceuticals again before I was ready.)

Coming up: critique of plastic mattresses... (always keep things on the yellow.. err, sunny side)

Food for thought, from the other side...

If you're on pain medication: 2 cups of strong black coffee > dulcolax/milk of magnesia... You're welcome ;)

My absenteeism from walking this morning is noticeable; crummy mattresses...

See me on "The Ocho" 2012 Vegas Championships

Fall 2011 Pittsburgh Nose Picking Championship

It was 2011 nose pickin' championships here in Pittsburgh, obviously i won.... Gotta be willing to knock a lil sphenoid bone out of the way; Go deep or go home! (that's what she said)

7am-2pm; it's not exactly "rocket science" now is it

Surgery tomorrow at 7am; luckily it will not be occurring in the "homeopathic ER" (google that). Check ya' later!

Young Frankenstein is So Meta

First Day of pre-op testing at UPMC; couldn't have gone more smoothly... Excellent idea to tell me not to consume anything after 9am, then have me try to give a urine sample later. I think I got Cyrus to actually work with me on this one and squeeze out a lil' tinkle for them to test, *mental high five Cyrus, mental high five*; sometimes I guess he can be my frienemy.

Met Paul "Please don't make me a vegetable" Gardner today; he was rocking hipster thick/black framed glasses, so I know he means business. If he can't excise Cyrus, I am sure he'll ridicule him into submission concerning his shortcomings on literary and indie rock knowledge, let him know that being a clival chordoma was last year's trend and the new thing is to be a huddled mass in a red biowaste bag dumped into ALWAYS scenic Camden, New Jersey. I can tell by Cyrus's non-concentric shape that he definitely doesn't want to be labeled a conformist; any note of him lacking originality will most likely "cut straight to the bone".  Newly taken, 1.2mm sliced MRI's confirmed Cyrus negatively commenting on the blood flow of my Internal Carotids; he arrogantly suggests more of an avant garde approach to cerebral blood diffusion. He definitely acts like the kind of tumor that claims to read Bukowski in his free-time, but really only gets obnoxiously wasted on canned PBR and recites jacket covers. Monday it will be time to take away this poser's free rental space and see how he can survive on his own, his newly acquired history degree might land him a barista gig at Starbuck's, at least he'll be able to associate with his peers.

Ahhh, those were my pants years... Go Team Cancer!

Yeah, this is pretty much the way it happened...

(Advanced Directives)... Well, I could still go to the coffee shop?

Uh, yes it is...

Blog Officially Starts Sept. 22: In the Meantime