I'm back -- and I survived!

After two-weeks it feels good to be back home! But first, before I continue: Sharon Lewis, everyone.

(insert rousing applause here)

I want to thank my Mom for all her help, considering everything she's done, but especially for doing such a good job in communicating here with you guys. It was important for me to feel as if your amazing gestures and well-wishes were being reciprocated, and I think Mom accomplished that, particularly amongst all the Grey's Anatomy-esque drama that transpired.

Anyway, hello out there! I feel like it's been so long. Probably because it has. It's been two weeks since my surgery and I am so happy to finally have it behind us -- truly, the worst has to be over. I'm finally back in San Francisco and, following yesterday's first post-operative appointment (the stitches were removed, making my scar look about 2% less Frankenstein-ish than before), and now officially consider myself in the Recovery Mode Phase. Since leaving the hospital, I've found that every day is better than the previous, and I'm really grateful to have Mom around since my energy level is still pretty low. I'm also glad it doesn't hurt as much to read the computer because I couldn't wait to get a new post up to say hi to everyone.

So, after having spent a week in the hospital -- and particularly after having never endured a medical emergency in my life -- I have, a million things I have to say, though for the sake of time I thought that perhaps I'd just share my top three observations (for now).

Observation #1: Brain surgery doesn't feel so good.

During my pre-op appointment, one my doctors warned me that I'd wake up after the operation feeling like I'd been hit by a Mac Truck. While he was indeed correct in that assessment, he unfortunately neglected to mention it would follow by the warm, fuzzy feeling of jumping out a plane without a parachute, rolling down a prickly cactus-ridden cliff onto a highway and subsequently run over by a gang of Hell's Angels. In other words, it was a bit painful. In fact, I'd say that week's little adventure could pass for some quality Navy Seal training. Even worse than the pain, though, if possible, was having to endure the constant nausea and dizziness. I couldn't even put my favorite rose-scented balm on my lips without feeling horrendously ill. Conveniently, I noted how probably 80% of TV commercials are food-related, relegating one of my main escapes, television, virtually impossible to endure. Fortunately, the onslaught of drugs running through my veins somehow made wall-watching a sufficient pastime.

Observation #2: Odds are odd.

After this experience I've become immune to the acknowledging the theory of low odds, as well as the terms 'rare' and 'low percentage'. After being afflicted with an acoustic neuroma in the first place (odds are 1 in 100,000), and the subsequent CSF leak (1 in 10 AN patients), I think I'm officially over observing those terms at face value. And yes, sure, I'm probably bitter. I deserve to be. So if something 'rare' and 'against the odds' doesn't happen between me and a lotto ticket sometime within the next year, bitter won't even be the appropriate term.

Observation #3: I just had brain surgery.

I still can't believe it. I'm anxious to see people though I'm still somewhat in hiding, as fatigue is a bit overpowering at times, not to mention I've still got quite a bit of scarring -- including some unplanned and unexpected souvenier-scars I (perhaps permanently) aquired on my forehead as a result of a too-tight bandage. The fun never ends, people.


So, I could go on forever, but think I'm going to take a nap instead (no offense). In the meantime, and while I hate to sound like a broken record, thanks to you all so much for your total awesomeness while we go through this. I was notified of all your texts, cards, and communication while in that torture chamber the hospital, and each and every one of you made it that much easier to endure. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Lots of love,
Amanda