Brain Surgery, Day 1- Oct 15th 1996

11:00 am I arrive at the hospital. 15 minutes later I'm in the pre-op room getting weighed and having my blood pressure checked. They inventoried my personal belongings (which were a pair of sweat pants and shirt, shoes and socks) and I changed into a hospital gown and a pair of white "nylons". They are used to prevent pooling of blood in the legs or something.. They asked if I had any questions about the surgery and I did not, so they let my family come in and wait with me. Just a few minutes later the anesthesiologists came in and explained that they were going to hook me up with a couple of I-V lines. They were very nice guys and answered all kinds of questions from my family and friends. The I-V lines are in now and I'm starting to feel something.. my brother comments "You're buzzin". That's the last I remember pre-op.

Sometime around 7 pm: I wake up with a nurse at my side. She tells me "You are out of surgery and everything went very well." Then she asks "Can you tell me your name ?"  I answer "chip".  She just looked at me and started writing something , so I ask her "Was that right ?"  She laughs and says yes. I remember very little about the post-op room other than I started to feel sick, so I told the nurse. She gave me a shot and I felt better quickly. By the way, the nurse has nothing else to do but watch your vital signs and ask you how you are feeling. You feel very secure. That, and you are doped out of your gourd.

About 9:30 pm: Transport to surgical intensive care. It's routine, meaning everyone who comes out of this surgery goes there. It's a comfortable room, dimly lit, with all kinds of meters, monitors, gauges and stuff like like that. It's like a NASA control room, and you are the astronaut. You *think* you know what's going on at this point.. but you don't. You're still doped. More doped than Cheech and Chong at a Rolling Stones concert. A few minutes pass and they tell me my family is coming in to see me for a minute. They come in and they have that look on their faces,  like.."we are scared, but we love you so we'll try to smile to make you feel better". I'm doing the same thing, but I'm *not* scared (remember, I'm doped). They tell me that the surgeon updated them 3 times during the surgery, and that he gave them some pictures of the surgery when he came out and talked with them. I don't remember that much about the visit other than it was good, and my family left for the night and my friend (who is also a nurse) Meg stayed there with me all night. The idea was that she'd stay until I fell asleep, which never happened that night..

11:00 pm. Alarms are going off and I'm drowsy and don't understand what's happening. The nurse resets the stuff and says "try to get some sleep". OK.

11:15 Alarms are going off again. Meg explains "Your OX Sat level is dropping way down (80 and lower) as soon as you start to fall asleep". IE: I stop breathing, my oxygen level drops to dangerous levels and the alarm goes off.

11:30 Same thing. I start to fall asleep, stop breathing, the alarm goes off and I'm awake again.

11:50 Same thing. This is getting old. It happens all night long.

End of day 1- a.k.a. Chips Excellent Adventure

Day 2 - Oct 16th

12:30 am - They keep close watch on me, and continually come in to wipe my face with a cool damp cloth. The intensive care unit must be kept at somewhere around 72-3 degrees (?) because it's noticeably warmer than I am used to. (I'm a Minnesota boy)   All through the night they keep me comfortable. Once in a while they give me a small chunk of ice to suck on. It's a treat in a way- it's been 24 hours + since I've had anything at all to eat. I'm not really feeling hungry, but that little chunk of ice hits the spot.

4:00 am - The nurse says that I can have a sponge bath now since I'm not sleeping anyway. Meg (also an ICU nurse) offers to do it and the nurse accepts the offer. It only takes about 3 minutes and it felt good, especially on my back.

5:00 am - The nurse asks me if I want to try some apple juice. Yep, I do. I'm feeling pretty good. I ask if having the apple juice will disqualify me for the ice chunks. She assures me that I can still have ice chunks, and brings me a small container of apple juice and a whole bowl of ice chunks.

6:00 am - The nurse asks if I want to try something "a little more solid" and I do. I'm feeling hungry now. I suggest a pizza and some Mountain Dew. I get a small yellow blob of Jell-O. Close enough. As I eat it I notice that I don't have the urge to cough like I used to. I must be swallowing better. I finish the Jell-O with no coughing. This is a major improvement.

7:30 am - Dr. Rockswold, the neurosurgeon stops in with a smile on his face. The nurse had told him that I was not coughing anymore and that the tingling and stiffness in my hands was much better. We chat for about 10 minutes and he has me do a small battery of motor skills tests. They seemed easy. He says he'll get me out of intensive care if it's OK with me. That would be additional progress, and I'm all for that. "Yeah, I'm ready to move on." He smiles and winks as he walks out the door and I hear him say to the nurse "He's doing fine, let's move him to a bed on 53." 10 hours in intensive care and they are ready to cut me loose. The doctor had previously stated that I'd be in IC for 24 hours. I must be doing better than average, I think.

8:30 am - My Mom is here now and relieves Meg from watch. Meg will now go home to sleep after about 22 hours of being there with me.

9:00 am - The nurse tells me that we are waiting for an open bed at station 53. It will be around noon, and they'll transport me by wheelchair rather than bed. She tells me that they'll be able to unhook the IV in my left arm and the heart monitor too. That leaves me with an IV in my right arm and a pulse-oxygen clip on my left pointer finger.

10:30 am - The nurse asks if I'd like to try getting out of bed and sitting in a lazy-boy type chair. Yes. I haven't even sat up yet and that would feel good.

10:35 am - I move to the chair, but when I do my head starts pounding and now I'm in pain. A bit more than I like... The nurse asks if I want to move back to the bed. No, I don't want to move at all. It hurts to move! She injects some pain killer into my IV line and it's better within a couple of minutes. Ouch. I hate it when that happens.

12:00 noon - The nurse tells me that we'll be leaving for station 53 in just a little bit. It's a long trip, all the way to the other end of the hospital which takes up about 3 city blocks. My head is starting to hurt again, and I ask if I can get some more pain killer right before the trip. Yes, she says, and gives me a pill this time. It's Percocet (whatever that is).

1:00 We make the trip via wheelchair to station 53. I have an IV in tow and a blanket on. It's just as hot in the hallways as it was in ICU and I don't need the blanket, but it stays on anyway. My Mom laughs because my butt is exposed when the nurse is not directly behind me. I joke about getting arrested for indecent exposure.

3:00 pm- I'm in my new room now, and this one is a double room. It looks like I may have a roommate soon, but right now it's just me in here. I have a phone now too, so I call a couple of my friends. They are surprised that I'm calling them the day after brain surgery and are very glad to hear how things are going. I encourage them to stay home for now and visit me another day or when I get home. I'm tired.

3:45 pm - I go for a walk down the hall of station 53, with a nurse at my arm. I'm not 100 % sure why she's holding on to me the way she is because with her 110 lb. frame and my 210 lb. frame... if I fall, she'll just fall with me :) Even as tired as I am, I can tell that my balance is better. More progress.

4:30 pm - I get a few visitors and right at that time the pain gets worse. I request more meds and get them, but it takes a half hour or so before they start to work, and my visitors (family and close friends) have to see me in misery for a while. Poor timing.

6:00 pm - Supper comes. Soup, mashed potatoes, vanilla ice cream and milk. I eat the soup, but am more tired than hungry so I try to sleep. When I do start to doze off, the oxygen saturation thing goes off again. (It's actually called a pulse-oximeter) This happens about very 15 minutes for the next 2 hours. I guess I'm still not breathing when I fall asleep. I'm frustrated about the whole thing because I'm REALLY tired of the sound of the alarm going off. I want to toss the thing out the window.

8:30 pm - There is talk of a roommate coming into my room.

9:00 pm - I am transported to a private room, presumably because my oxygen alarm keeps going off. It's bad enough that I can't sleep and they don't want to keep another patient up all night either. I move down the hall.

10:00 pm- I go for another walk down the hall, this time about twice as far as the first. I feel like I could handle it by myself, but the nurse wants to escort me. OK. More progress. Tomorrow I can walk alone.

11:30 pm - I've watched a little TV and am going to try (once again) to sleep. Wish me luck, I haven't slept in 40 hours.

End of day 2- a.k.a. Chips Excellent Adventure

Day 3 - Oct 17th

I spend much of day 3 trying to get some sleep, with little success. I fall asleep for a few minutes and (as usual) the oxygen alarm goes off and wakes me up. In between trying to sleep and going for short walks up and down the hall, a respiratory specialist stops in and fits me with a small oxygen mask, to pump oxygen into me while I try to sleep. It's extremely uncomfortable having this thing on, and I ask "Do I have to wear this thing ?"  The guy answers "Breathing is not optional."   I'm really tired and I think "I wonder how long it took him to come up with that one". It's going on 72 hours without significant sleep. I am noticing that my balance is much better, and I am able to swallow solid foods with no coughing or choking. More progress !

Day 4 - Oct 18th

I am breathing much better and walking up and down the hall by myself. I even slept for much of the night. I feel pretty good other than the pain in the back of my head. They want to keep an eye on me for one more day to be sure that I will continue breathing when I fall asleep. I guess I can understand that.   If all goes well for another day the doctor says they'll send me home.

Day 5 - Oct 19th

All does go well, and next thing I know I am at home typing this recollection of my adventure. It feels great to be home and I'm really looking forward to sleeping in my own bed. Life is good ! If you've read this far, don't stop now. There's much more to learn, and things get even better!

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© Chip Vierow