My Happy DBS-Part 1

I had to be off all my pharmaceuticals the night before my first surgery. So, knowing that I might not be able to walk well in the morning due to my dystonic feet, I dressed fully and had everything by my bedside the night before. This included my list of medicines, my overnight bag, and my face wipes. I fully intended to stay awake the whole night and watch movies. I stocked up on the slowest, dullest movies I could find that were long and laborious to get through: "Gosford Park," 'Marie Antoinette," etc. What a stupid idea. I would have been better off laying awake watching Mel Gibson's "The Passion of Christ." At any rate, I fell asleep. I awoke exactly at 3:00 a.m. This was when we had to get up and leave for the University of Colorado Hospital in Denver.

Once there, my mom, Tony and I tried to get in but it was only 5:15 and everything was closed up tight. Finally, a nice man from Ghana (via Dublin!) let us in and scolded us for not coming to the main entrance. We grabbed a wheelchair and I was scooted up to the second floor. After that it was a whirlwind of being hooked up to a million different IV's, etc. and fitted in an aluminum head brace that was screwed into both temples and the back of both sides of my head. I was given a local anesthesia for all four places and went through a CT scan. They actually had to use a pediatric blood pressure cuff around my arm because I am so thin. Then I was ushered in the OR and given a light sedative during which time I slept and they catheterized me and drilled a nice hole in my brain. Then they woke me up and I was asked to be very quiet while they probed and talked in what they thought was code. But if you are at all smart and listen carefully, you can tell what they were saying. The assisting physician moved my right arm and leg, hand and foot in every direction until they had hit the "sweet spot." This was when I knew they were finding what they needed to find and it was pretty damn fast. It is normally a five hour surgery and mine was a quick three hours. I was sent up to the ICU and "watched" through the night by very kind nurses. I couldn't keep anything down in my stomach and when all my friends came up to see me, I was throwing up. My friend Barb White slept over with me so that my husband Tony and my mom could go home and sleep. Barb is the type of person who does not mind being awake until 2:00 a.m. At 3:15 a.m., they turned on all the lights and brought me down to the CT room again to check to make sure nothing had migrated and no infection had set in. Everything was fine. After that, I could not sleep again and when Barb finally woke up, I was so annoyed at having that stupid catheter in me that I begged them to take it out. Finally, the Spanish neurologist from upstairs came down and said he wanted to see me eat two meals without throwing up and walk to the bathroom by myself and then I would be able to go home! Stipulations, stipulations! I did everything fine except my head felt like a heavy block the whole time. And, it wasn't until 6:30 p.m. that we finally got home! I went to bed at 9:00 p.m. without my Rush Limbaugh oxycodone and woke at 1:00 a.m., took it and my Remeron and slept until seven.

In the morning, my head was so sore and I could see the staples that they had put in my head. I promptly wrapped my head in a lovely turquoise blue scarf I had purchased the week before and started returning phone calls. So many people came over to see me and they all brought food and gifts! Mame and Mark Furman gave me a gift certificate to Chili's; Liz and John gave me Farmer's Market food; Mary Jean and Scott bought me a birding book; April brought food; Evan and Julia and little Evan brought food; my son Bryon came and ate with us; Aaron and Kristin brought themselves; Barb called, my sister called, and my mom made everyone laugh. It was a joyous time even though I have been in constant pain. Everyone was happy although I am still not reaping the benefits of the DBS and won't until this whole nasty affair of getting it implanted in me is over with. It's a slow process, but I think it will be worth it if I can stop taking all these fucking pharmaceuticals. I mean, honestly, who the hell do these people think they are? And why can't we put them out of business entirely??? I'm voting for socialized medicine from now on. I mean REALLY!