She walked up to the desk to check in and couldn’t help but notice what was written on the sheet in the final column beside her name… “to discuss options”. She didn’t think that sounded very promising. They went to find a seat in the waiting room. They had arrived twenty minutes early and he was running late. The time ticked by painfully slow but her husband sat beside her, fiercely holding her hand. Her rock. He always knew exactly what to do in times like this….exactly what to say. “I know you are scared. I am too". "It will be okay". "We will get through this". "Just another bump in the road”.
Finally, it was their turn. He was the most reputable neurosurgeon in the city. He exuded greatness. This was a man who knew his stuff.
She listened as he talked about growth. 2 mm in the last two years… enough to be concerned about. He talked about options. He said it was no longer an option to watch and wait. Any further growth would leave brain surgery as the only course of action. Anymore growth would lead to eventual symptoms; hearing loss, facial nerve damage, seizures. Anymore growth could be dangerous.
He talked about gamma knife surgery and the 201 highly focused beams of gamma rays guided with surgical precision, without a scalpel. He mentioned the 93-95% success rate of stopping the tumour in it's tracks, 5-10% chance of complications involving brain swelling which would require a longterm treatment of steroids and 1% chance of more significant complications of hearing loss or facial nerve damage. Decent odds.
He talked about timing. He explained how 3 years ago tumours of this larger size were never treated with gamma knife and just how far the medicine had progressed in this area. He talked about the far less evasive nature of this option, the fewer risks and the limited recovery time compared to brain surgery.
She listened. She knew it was psychological but the right side of her head suddenly hurt. She could feel it there, weighing her down. She had grown used to the idea of it being there and for some reason she had thought it always would be. She had never thought of it as the enemy before, the invader. But she knew now that it was and it needed to be stopped. She listened as they talked about dates….sometime in the Fall.
She carried the informational brochures and video to the car. She drove with her husband to get the kids. Her best friend hugged her and kissed her cheek, “It will be okay. You will be fine. I know it”.
She went home and made dinner for the kids. Her parents stopped by. Her mom hugged her. She said, “You’ll get through this”. And in her heart she knew it was true.
Just another bump in the road.
Gamma is a breeze! We'll have to chat when we get home.
Posted by: scott | August 04, 2012 at 06:16 AM
I'll just keep on praying Shauna. Everyone is right, you will get through and how good is it that Scott has gone the road before you. (((((((Shauna)))))))) (Internet speak for hug)
Posted by: Lydia | August 04, 2012 at 08:56 AM
Thanks for posting this Shauna. I have been thinking of you often in these past couple days. You are so brave and strong. You will make it through this! No problem! Take Care and see you soon.
Posted by: Sara | August 04, 2012 at 07:28 PM
I don't know if your child is supposed to be your hero but there's no doubt in my mind that you're my hero. Love Dad
Posted by: Ron Lotz | August 05, 2012 at 09:19 AM
Thinking of you Shauna!! This is just a tiny speed bump that you will breeze through. Talk soon xoxo
Posted by: Katie | August 07, 2012 at 09:29 PM
Hi Shauna,
I just saw this link through facebook. I immediately thought of you, and wanted to share it here. http://blog.braintumour.ca/stories/tanyas-story/
All the best through your medical journey.
Posted by: Sabrina | August 15, 2012 at 11:30 PM
Hey ! am I glad to visit your blog ! Think your child as your hero.. :D
Posted by: Best man Speech Tips | August 21, 2012 at 10:55 AM