Alan’s Army

We got home at 4 AM, in bed at 4:20 and the mean nasty alarm went off at 6AM.

We arrived back at the hospital just in time for Alan to be wheeled through the tunnels from the hospital over to the Eye Institute.  After exams etc. the Dr stated he was very pleased that Alan’s limited sight seemed unchanged.  He said he had had a sleepless night worrying that the surgery might have made Alan completely blind.  He stated that the surgery plus the massive steroids was the maximum treatment that Alan could receive and there is nothing else that can be done for his eyesight.  Now we are in “wait and see” mode and the next six months will determine if Alan’s sight improves, worsens, or stays the same.

Alan looks like he was in a prize fight with massively swollen bloody eyelids.  He’s in a bit of pain and in somewhat resigned spirits, but he’s eating well.

Due to the massive steroids (12 mg every 6 hours) that lower his immunity the doctor is worried about complications with the shunt so Alan will remain in the hospital until Thursday or maybe Friday.  He’s also on heavy antibiotics.  He is slated for some further imaging as well.

BOB and Kit visited this afternoon and Gina was headed back over (she was there with us last night for about 4 hours in pre-op) to visit after work.

While at the hospital, Amber called to say that Hobbes (the giant orange tabby) was breathing funny so we left the hospital at about 4PM, got home at 5pm, and I’m sitting in the Vets parking lot typing this while Ginny and Amber are inside with the cat.  On the way here I said in my best Arnold voice - “It’s not a Tuma” (Sorry - another movie reference - Kindergarten Cop)

So the cat has Cardiomyopathy (sp?) and has had two shots and will need diuretic pills for the rest of his life.  That will be a fun task every day.  The entire visit including shots and meds was $55.41 - a far cry from the statement we got today for Alan’s charges just for May 12th when the tumor was removed at Pennsylvania Hospital - $182,790 - Yikes !!!

OK, off to bed before I fall over.

Thank you for your well wishes, thoughts, and prayers.  I was pretty down last night and the replies of sharing, caring, and love were tremendous.  I truley appreciate the perspective adjustment and priority setting from dear colleagues and friends.  Thank you all.

God Bless,

Andrew

12:45 AM - Alan is out of surgery, we are waiting for him to come out of post-op so we can see him.  The surgeon says the procedure itself was successfully performed but he only saw a dribble of fluid when slitting the sheath around the nerve,  where if pressure was the issue, he would have expected to see a spurt.  So he is not very hopeful for the long term outcome.  He said Alan’s right eye was still at least light sensing post-op.  He wonders if some of the tumor cells are the actual issue and if radiation and chemo might help, but again they might simply make it worse as the optic nerves may be hanging on by a very tentative thread.

Basically he said 6 months down the road we will know for sure the longterm outcome for his sight, but for now Alan is quite simply blind and disabled and we need to get on with the business of treating the cancer to save his life.

He’s on massive steroids and antibiotics.  Tomorrow he will have an MRI (and a check by the local neuro-surgeons that it doesn’t screw up the shunt setting) and then the various Doctors will talk about the new schedule for radiation and chemo.

1:30 AM - I’ve got a blanket on Ginny and she attempts to doze amidst the snores of the family of three who share the dingy waiting room with us as we wait to hopefully see Alan before daybreak.  I look back to early May and wonder how a possibility of blindness was not even on anyone’s radar as a concern.  Now it looks like a fact of Alan’s new life.  Could this have been prevented?  Was there something I was supposed to do?  I’m finding this all suddenly so very hard.  I can’t help but grieve at the loss of my doubles and movie-going partner.   I mourn the fact he’ll never go Pro. I mourn the courses he’ll never see, the tournaments he’ll never play in, and the movies he’ll only ever hear.  My heart is breaking as I allow myself to sit here and type these thoughts I couldn’t possibly speak out loud.

But miracles do happen, right?
2:00 AM - Still waiting for Alan to get out of recovery.

2:15 AM - Still waiting.

2:30 AM - Still waiting.

2:35 AM - I was wandering outside the waiting room and saw them wheel Alan down a hallway so I followed them to G201 and went back and got Ginny.  He said his eyes hurt and he doesn’t think he got sick in Recovery.

3:00 AM - OK, off to home for a few hours sleep.  Sleep tight my baby boy.

Thanks as always for your thoughts and prayers,

Andrew