About
In late November, 2016, my wife Mary and I experienced the most fear we'd ever experienced before.
It Begins
It was a mild November morning, and we were just getting up near noon to get ready to take care of a friend's pets while she was out of town. We live in a rented two-story house in an old part of town. Our bedroom is upstairs. Across from the bedroom door lies her bathroom. My bathroom is downstairs.
I had gotten up a bit earlier and was taking care of business as usual. I heard an odd thump. However, being a 115+ year-old house, I thought nothing of it and attributed it to the normal creaks and groans of an old home.
After completing necessary tasks there, I took care of our own kitties; cleaned the litter box, fed them, made sure they had enough fresh water. I began the trudge up the stairs to get clothes ready. There was a very strange sound. Something like horrible snoring. You know, the revving chainsaw-like sounds. Of course, in this day and age, everyone takes their phones into the bathroom. So, I, again, thought nothing of the sound.
As I got closer to the bathroom, the sound was just so loud. And repetitive. Over and over and over, the grinding sound. As I approached the bathroom door, it did not sound like cell phone audio. I recognized the sound, though, as I'd heard it a time or two before, having been a witness to more than one auto accident. It was a death rattle.
I knocked. "Hummie?" (Yes, we have pet names for each other.)
There was no answer.
I knocked louder.
The wretched sound continued as before, and once again I received no answer.
I opened the bathroom door and was absolutely mortified.
It seemed like time stood still for a moment as I took in the bloody scene. Her body was crumpled in the floor with her head jammed in the corner of the cabinet and bathtub. She was face down. The front of the counter was completely covered in blood. There was a huge pool of blood on the floor under her head and chest. It was then I discovered the sound was my wife's death rattle.
Later, we were to learn that she'd had a grand mal seizure. This is the type of seizure that most people picture when they hear the word seizure.
I had gotten up a bit earlier and was taking care of business as usual. I heard an odd thump. However, being a 115+ year-old house, I thought nothing of it and attributed it to the normal creaks and groans of an old home.
After completing necessary tasks there, I took care of our own kitties; cleaned the litter box, fed them, made sure they had enough fresh water. I began the trudge up the stairs to get clothes ready. There was a very strange sound. Something like horrible snoring. You know, the revving chainsaw-like sounds. Of course, in this day and age, everyone takes their phones into the bathroom. So, I, again, thought nothing of the sound.
As I got closer to the bathroom, the sound was just so loud. And repetitive. Over and over and over, the grinding sound. As I approached the bathroom door, it did not sound like cell phone audio. I recognized the sound, though, as I'd heard it a time or two before, having been a witness to more than one auto accident. It was a death rattle.
I knocked. "Hummie?" (Yes, we have pet names for each other.)
There was no answer.
I knocked louder.
The wretched sound continued as before, and once again I received no answer.
I opened the bathroom door and was absolutely mortified.
It seemed like time stood still for a moment as I took in the bloody scene. Her body was crumpled in the floor with her head jammed in the corner of the cabinet and bathtub. She was face down. The front of the counter was completely covered in blood. There was a huge pool of blood on the floor under her head and chest. It was then I discovered the sound was my wife's death rattle.
Later, we were to learn that she'd had a grand mal seizure. This is the type of seizure that most people picture when they hear the word seizure.
"C"
She had a small gash on her forehead, just above her left eyebrow. Head injuries. If you don't know, they bleed. A lot.
The ER staff got her stitched up and they wheeled her off to perform a CT, standard procedure for head injuries. This was a Saturday, so it would be a bit before a radiologist could read it to make sure she didn't have a concussion. I tucked out for a few minutes to gather things from home, as we left in such a hurry. When I returned, Mary had a serious, somber look on her face.
"They found a mass."
The radiologist was concerned about it so a MRI was ordered.
An oncologist would need to see the scans and make a determination, but that would not happen until Monday morning. A weekend in the hospital it was, then.
Unfortunately, I was not allowed to stay with her, so I went home Saturday night and Sunday night to sleep. When I arrived early Monday morning, the oncologist was already there.
It was exactly as the ER staff had suspected. Brain cancer.
The ER staff got her stitched up and they wheeled her off to perform a CT, standard procedure for head injuries. This was a Saturday, so it would be a bit before a radiologist could read it to make sure she didn't have a concussion. I tucked out for a few minutes to gather things from home, as we left in such a hurry. When I returned, Mary had a serious, somber look on her face.
"They found a mass."
The radiologist was concerned about it so a MRI was ordered.
An oncologist would need to see the scans and make a determination, but that would not happen until Monday morning. A weekend in the hospital it was, then.
Unfortunately, I was not allowed to stay with her, so I went home Saturday night and Sunday night to sleep. When I arrived early Monday morning, the oncologist was already there.
It was exactly as the ER staff had suspected. Brain cancer.
Be Gone!
The oncologist wanted to waste no time on removing the tumor as parts of it had advanced to stage three, so it had to be called stage three. He mentioned that, if he were able to, he'd have the OR prepped for her on Tuesday.
She was released and we went home that evening with a lot to think about. First, and foremost, find the best neurosurgeon we could find AND SCHEDULE with that surgeon.
We ultimately decided to pursue the University of Kansas Medical Center, at many of our medical friends' suggestions.
Miraculously, we ended up scheduled with one of the very best on the campus. He, too, wanted to make the wait very short. The surgery was scheduled before mid-December.
The surgery took nearly eight hours, but was successful in removing all tumor material.
She was released and we went home that evening with a lot to think about. First, and foremost, find the best neurosurgeon we could find AND SCHEDULE with that surgeon.
We ultimately decided to pursue the University of Kansas Medical Center, at many of our medical friends' suggestions.
Miraculously, we ended up scheduled with one of the very best on the campus. He, too, wanted to make the wait very short. The surgery was scheduled before mid-December.
The surgery took nearly eight hours, but was successful in removing all tumor material.
What Now?
Now, comes the aftercare.
Physically, she's doing very well. Her surgery recovery went way ahead of schedule.
Cognitively, however, is a different story. She is herself still, which was not assured going into surgery. But she has distinct exhibitions of aphasia (link opens in a new window/tab). Specifically, word-finding is the most difficult task for her.
While she was on a good recovery path, we had a major setback in March of 2019. Her drug regimen changed and her brain swelled and caused a series of grand mal seizures. Unfortunately, the neuro-oncologist surmised that this series of seizures reset her recovery. We have both noticed her aphasia worsen since the incident.
As we continue through recovery, Mary has lost much fine motor control and mobility in her right arm and leg.
Physically, she's doing very well. Her surgery recovery went way ahead of schedule.
Cognitively, however, is a different story. She is herself still, which was not assured going into surgery. But she has distinct exhibitions of aphasia (link opens in a new window/tab). Specifically, word-finding is the most difficult task for her.
While she was on a good recovery path, we had a major setback in March of 2019. Her drug regimen changed and her brain swelled and caused a series of grand mal seizures. Unfortunately, the neuro-oncologist surmised that this series of seizures reset her recovery. We have both noticed her aphasia worsen since the incident.
As we continue through recovery, Mary has lost much fine motor control and mobility in her right arm and leg.