Elvis is Unavailable for Comment

Funny Feelings...

It's the middle of the night. Believe me, one and all, that happens to be ok... Currently for two reasons... one, my body is still on "hospital night shift time" and I've been having a little burst of extreme awareness that lasts about a half hour every night since I've come home. Generally coincides with either the "shift change vitals check" (that one varied, but was usually between 1:00 and 2:30) or the "just a little bit of medicine to swallow" check that was around 4:00. I know that I will start winding back down in a few minutes and I will sleep hard once again.

It's been interesting following along as my body has responded... I'm more tuned in to how I'm feeling from moment to moment that I "usually" am, and I can (for now, anyway) feel when I've done a bit too much, when I just need a snooze, when my brain is recommending sleep. And yes, I've been following directions and resting... (see previous blog entry where I come close to waxing poetic on napping).

But I digress... because I was also just jazzed to mention the second reason I felt the urge to blog during my little awake period in the middle of the night. And it's all about feelings... and how amazing the human body can be sometimes.

I've been saying to just about everyone that I've spoken to that I feel blessed in many ways, because this recovery from initial surgery feels to me as if it is going fairly smoothly. There are visible changes (like swelling reducing), I haven't been in a great deal of pain (easily manageable during the day now with quite small amounts of Excedrin), those sorts of things.

But last night, as I was laying down to sleep, I closed my eyes and I felt almost hyper-aware of my body. I could "feel" my limbs relaxing, I could "feel" my breathing slowing down for sleep, and I was really aware of heartbeat. And I was laying there thinking, that's odd... I'm "feeling" so much all of a sudden... has something changed a bit? And I actually got up and "took stock"... everything seemed it was as I left it :)... and then I checked my pulse, because I was a bit nervous that this feeling of hyper-sensitivity was maybe something like my heart "racing" or something. The kinds of thoughts that come easily when you've just come out of surgery, let me tell you. It may sound silly, but I checked it four times... and every time I got almost the exact same number... perfectly consistent with the resting pulses that the doctors and nurses were quite happy with in the hospital. And I took a deep breath, went to lay down, and went right to sleep.

Because I decided that the primary reason that everything was so hyper-sensitive all of a sudden was that for some reason, at that moment, my brain had just decided to actually pay attention to what was going on in that moment where there wasn't a lot else it needed to be doing. I wasn't really used to that feeling of body awareness, and ended up falling asleep pretty content.

And then the neatest, simple, little thing happened that also had to do with feelings, and body awareness, it was energizing for some reason! As I popped awake (and I historically had been both an early riser and fast "waker" from sleep, so popping awake isn't terribly abnormal for me) I noticed that my right hand was holding my left, and my fingers of the left hand just felt "pruny"... and then I noticed that I was sweaty, and that arms for whatever reason felt much less heavy than they head, and my head felt just a little bit clearer, and I was feeling good, and I said to myself, "I bet I had a bit of a fever break! That's sure what this feels like... too bad for poor left hand, having been wrung to pruny in the sweat by my right!" And I got out of bed, and sure enough, my temp. had dropped about a degree from where it had been running (which wasn't high actually, but was fairly high for me, who generally runs on the low side of average).

I know there are many roads yet to take with this condition of mine, but it's incredible the exhilaration one can get from such little things.

My body took another little step tonight, and since everyone is currently sleeping, I just had to tell someone that it feels good to feel good. I guess now, ultimately, I've told just about everyone! Hope I didn't keep you up with my little interim happy dance.

I'm off to find a dry shirt and my warm bed. Nighty, night all. And yes, for those lefties in the audience, my poor left hand, so mercilessly "pickled" by mean Mr. Right Hand, returned to normal as I was typing. No harm, no foul, I say. :-D

It's been nice to have a relatively uneventful day at home. It's funny, though, how mundane things feel pretty good right now. I was excited to sift through some bills for instance... making sure we're caught up on a few things. Helping feed the kids. Napping.

Especially the napping... it doesn't even have to be long, but the surgeons weren't kidding when they said that even fifteen minute catnaps are gold when your body tells you you need them. The brain, they say, uses an awful lot of energy as it heals, and I must say that I am a true believer as far as that is concerned.

So bring on the slight drizzles and the grey afternoons... once in a while we can all use a nice nap. There are definitely times when relaxation is just what the doctor ordered... no pun intended. :-)

Home Is Where My Hat Is...

Today was a very nice day. A few visitors, a couple of good hot meals, a nice shower, really nice. I even, for the first time in over a week, wore an entire outfit of real clothes... I almost felt like an adult again! Granted, I'm still wearing my compression hose... so it's not quite fully normal, but boy oh boy, I can't complain about wearing a regular collared shirt and jeans... hoorah!

Another excitement was actually venturing out of the house today. And in doing that, I got to break in one of my brand new hats, which was a lot of fun.

Allow me to explain... I've not generally been much of a hat wearer. And when I have, it's generally not been as a means to demonstrate my fashion sense... a lot of sloppy ball caps or knit caps. Well, when I started this process, one of the things that my wife felt I could use were some more sophisticated, but also practical, hats. She let my mom run with a few ideas, and then I even got to have a little input. The long and short of it is that now I have a few hats in a style that I've never really worn before... but having seen them, and tried them on, I think I could become a convert!

So, as I took a stroll up and down my street today, I felt pretty good protecting my incision with my brand new hat. Once again, one of those small things that contribute to making life a little bit of fun. Hopefully, the consensus will be that the look suits me!

The first order of business: I am now at home. And it's great to be here. It's been just over a week, but it feels like it's been much longer. It's so nice to see the kids all running about... the controlled chaos is actually kind of relaxing, in a weird way. It's familiar. It's energizing.

It's home.

I could have been discharged yesterday, but am glad that I was able to wait one more night. An extra night of quiet with very few interruptions, as I had very few procedures left that they needed to do.

Of course, there was also the hope that the pathology reports might then be ready before we left the hospital by waiting the extra day... but that wasn't meant to be.

Apparently, Elvis is being a bit of a stinker when it comes to figuring out just what makes him tick. Enough so that the pathologists are seeking further opinions from the Mayo clinic and possibly the University of Minnesota. We most certainly want them to get this analysis "right", but it isn't easy sitting on pins and needles while ones tumor is poked, prodded, and considered. There is the distinct possibility that we won't have an opportunity to see and discuss the full pathology report until our follow up visit with the neurosurgeons, which is scheduled for the 6th.

Speaking of next steps... we have also been scheduled for a visit with the next doctor who will likely be responsible for my care... a neuro-oncologist. The neurosurgeons are nearing the end of the portion for which they have true expertise, and they are helping with the handoff to the neuro-oncologists, who specialize in the treatment of brain tumors. Ultimately, the pathology reports will dictate to them a course of action.

It's all a chain reaction of events that will come soon enough... my job for now is to rest and regain strength. And I'm very pleased that I am now able to do that at home, where I belong.

Rest assured that I continue to feel very well, and I feel a bit stronger every day.

I've received so many well wishes over the past few days... I just wanted to let you all know that I appreciate them. Thanks!

It's Hard Not Knowing Where You Stand...

On the plus side, I'm feeling really well again today. I'm exhausted a lot, which they expect, and I will certainly be on some pain killers for a while, but not massive amounts... in some ways, I feel more normal now than I have for the last few months. It's amazing, in hindsight, that I can see how "off" I had been feeling... those headaches that ultimately were the sign of things to come had really been throwing me for a bit of a loop. I woke up this morning feeling better than I had in a while -- rested, headache free, _awake_. It was nice.

But it is certainly hard not knowing any more about my condition. As good as I am feeling, it is really true that everything is still quite up in the air. And that's difficult to deal with.

I know that we'll know more "soon" (whenever that is), but it doesn't make it easier knowing that the "more" could still just as easily be lots of difficult news. All we can do is wait... and if you've been following along, waiting isn't exactly our strongest suit. :-)

But I still want to keep optimistic, and take strength in the progress I've already made. I should be going home really soon, and that next step on the road will be taken.

Thanks once again for all of the positive thoughts and well wishes, it does mean a lot to me.

The Little Things...

A little over two weeks ago, I had what I thought were just some annoying headaches... maybe because I was sleeping on the wrong pillow, or going to bed too late. Then my world turned upside-down... really without warning. And in all of the chaos, I found that I was most concerned about the little things. I had confidence that through it all I would be ok... and I still do. We're not done with the process by any means... certainly not with pathology reports still looming, but things will (I have faith) be O.K. But those little things still nag... probably part and parcel of being a husband and a father, I guess. Are the kids still eating well? Are they sleeping? Is my wife getting any chance for a break from the stress?

I know that the answers to these questions of mine are ongoing, but with this wonderful support network around us, I also know the answers are positive ones. But it doesn't stop me from keeping them in mind. They are ultimately part of who I am.

And you know, as upside-down as the world became, I'm really blessed at how quickly things have started to go right-side up once again. My surgeon seems to have done a phenomenal job, and my body seems to have decided that it is more than willing to do its part to get back to those little things, those tasks of "living".

And I can't wait. They tell me that I'm doing really well, and could be discharged in the next few days... I can't tell you how much I look forward to it.

Till tomorrow, and the hope that we'll finally have more information...

Weekends Are Quiet (And That's a Good Thing)...

I'm glad to say that I'm up and typing again. If anything, I'm typing even better than before... probably because I took a few days off. Perhaps that should be a lesson... take a break every once in a while. :-)

I'm feeling really good, which is a blessing. They are easily able to manage the little pain I've had to deal with so far, so I really can't complain. I have an appetite, I've been walking around today, things are good.

We're still all waiting to hear on pathology reports, which is a bummer, but it's pretty easy to stay positive with the progress I continue to make every day. I'm looking forward to napping this afternoon... one of those things that become exciting when you're on the road to recovery.

This entire experience has certainly been very surreal... I can't believe that it's only been a bit over two weeks ago that I learned that there was anything seriously amiss.

I certainly appreciate all of the thoughts and well wishes from everyone, and just wanted to assure everyone that things are going well. I'm sure I'll have more to say as the weekend progresses (I never seem to shut up here at the hospital... the nurses will get tired of me at some point, I'm sure), and look forward to blogging then.

Till then...

Potentially obscure movie references aside, it was an eventful day. After not being able to see out of my right eye yesterday, the swelling went down a great deal. So certainly that was a nice way to start the day...being able to see with two eyes again.

With the help of the physical therapy folks, they got me up and moving today. I was able to make a lap on my floor today, which is a good step toward recovery. Probably the most excitement was when the bandages were removed. It was good to feel the air in my hair again...and yes, I still have some hair (to my surprise).

It was certainly a good day for being tired. As busy as I was, I still got plenty of rest.

Oh, and I'm back on regular food again which, for those that know me, is a source of comfort. With the prospect of being disconnected from my lines at some point tonight, progress continues.

(as dictated to Jeff from James)

Thankfully, I continue to improve. Today I had the follow-up MRI and it appears to have gone well.

When the worst I can say so far about recovery from brain surgery is some swelling around my right eye, I think I'll be OK.

I'm not in a great deal of pain and they tell me I'm alert and aware. Everything seems to still work and that's a good thing.

Everyone should be pleased to know that I have not had the urge to work yet. I'm focusing on resting and recovering.

Thanks to everyone who is thinking of me and good riddance to Elvis!

(as dictated to Jeff by James)

James is doing well. He is currently resting in the ICU. He'll be moving out of the ICU (i think) this afternoon and into his own room. I will be headed over to the hospital tonight and will be staying overnight.

- Jeff

Elvis has left the building!!

James is out of surgery and in recovery right now. The surgery was a success, they think they were able to get all of the tumor out. James tolerated everything well and is doing very well, according to Dr. Nagib. The surgery was a bit shorter than expected, but now it is over.

Now we need to wait for the pathology reports to see what they learn.

This morning at around 8:30, a group of us escorted James down for his pre-op MRI. We got to meet with him briefly after the MRI before he went in for the surgery which began around 10:30. He will be in surgery for around 4 hours and will need to rest for another 3 hours or so before we can see him in the ICU. I will update again when I have more info.

- Jeff

I wish I had been sleeping better for the last few nights, but at least the bulk of the waiting is over. My initial procedure is this morning. We're confident, but none of it is anything to sneeze at, of course.

Wish me luck everyone! I'll be thinking about all of the people wishing me well. You've all lent quite a bit of strength already, for which I am very thankful.

Elvis should definitely consider himself lucky. Just a few days before eviction, and I'm eating well. Yesterday evening was a bunch of homemade Indian food (coconut curry chicken over rice with a side of spicy cauliflower and chick peas) from a friend of the family that spent six months living in India, and tonight I'll be eating one of my absolute favorite meals.

Thanksgiving dinner.

I happen to have a very special affinity for Thanksgiving. I was born on Thanksgiving Day, just hours after my mom (sorry mom!) had finished eating Thanksgiving dinner. Not to put too fine a point on it, but I enjoy food, and Thanksgiving Day is just a great day to celebrate food and family. In my opinion.

So tonight, I'll be enjoying turkey, potatoes, stuffing, etc. And, as I understand it, one of my absolute favorites... pumpkin pie.

Hoorah!

I certainly can't complain. Everyone has been taking such very good care of me the last week or two. And thankfully, the worst of the waiting is almost over. I check in to the hospital on Tuesday morning, and it will be good just to get the process started.

Elvis Loses His Blankie...
(Notes from 3/16/06)

After having settled on Dr. Nagib, we were able to cancel the following day's visit with the third neurosurgeon and just sort of rest. I went in to the office for the next few days, just being as normal as possible. By Thursday, I was itching to do something, so decided to cut my hair.

I've never, ever, ever had really short hair. So I decided to get a jump on it, and work on getting used to it. Of course, since I've never had really short hair, I barely even knew what to ask for. So my wife and I hopped in the car and headed to the local barber to get a "trim".

It took her four rounds of trims to get it down to a point where we thought it would still look "ok" if they shaved the right side all the way down. And to my surprise, I think it looks pretty good. In fact, other than it being a bit chilly on my scalp, I almost completely forgot I had gotten it cut by the time we got home.

The kids weren't exactly sure what to think. Much to my chagrin, I turned to our youngest (only 19 months) and said, "So, do you like daddy's hair?" He turns right to me, with a look of mixed horror and fascination, and shakes his head side-to-side. Three times in a row. OUCH!

Well, maybe having a few days to get used to the idea is good for everyone.

Elvis Meets His Match
(Notes from 3/13/06)

We woke up on Monday the 13th to snow. The largest snowfall of the season, here... nearly a foot. We were pretty much prepared to hunker down for the day. We had faxed the MRI paperwork to the really good neurosurgeon (Dr. Nagib), and didn't have anything we needed to do until the following day. Just to double check, my wife touched bases with Dr. Nagib's office to make sure that they had received the paperwork... they had, but Dr. Nagib was in surgery. He would look at them when he could.

So, we rested. Like a lump, I curled up in the recliner and began reading an amusing travel novel given to me by a coworker (I would recommend it: Neither Here Nor There). The highlight of my morning was having an early lunch of chicken tetrazzini.

And then the phone rang!

If we could get downtown (through the snow) by 1:45, Dr. Nagib would certainly be willing to discuss the MRI in person. Wow! What luck! My wife's mom was willing to run from her desk at her office and watch the kids on short notice, and we were in the van, slowly crawling through traffic.

Ultimately, it seems, much of our lives are built on trust relationships. I'm certainly of the firm belief that all of these medical procedures can only be successful if we have trust in the doctors, including both their opinions and their skills. Since my wife had little to no trust in Flipper, and her whole family had a great deal of trust (and for good reason) in Dr. Nagib, I was excited to meet him.

We were early enough that we could relax in the waiting room for a bit. I like to be early, but I'm also not particularly patient... a catch-22 for me. But there were enough magazines to keep me busy.

After a little while (and one double check with the administrative staff), and to my surprise, Dr. Nagib came out to greet us in the waiting area... I'm used to a nurse calling me back to the little hovel where the doctor is squirreled away doing other important things. It was a really nice gesture (in my estimation) for him to do that. Granted, he was excitedly chatting with my wife about her brother, leaving me as a bit of a tagalong... but it was still a very positive introduction.

I'm pleased to say that his style is extremely relaxed. That meshed well with me. We didn't run immediately to his office... he had arranged to have my films hanging in a little observation area in the hallway so we could, as a group, just nonchalantly pause and he could say, "Now, let's take a look at these, for instance..." and then begin scribbling on them with grease pencil. Telling us what he saw as key features, telling us what indicators he used to give him optimism about the nature of the tumor, etc. In other words, giving us an opportunity to understand why he had some of the opinions that he did. Flipper -- not so much of that.

His estimation was that the tumor is fairly old, and thus likely slow growing. In his opinion, if it had grown quickly, and grown to its current size, I'd be floored. He believes my brain has had an opportunity to slowly adjust to my "guest", helping explain the limited symptoms. The cumulative mass effect (shoving things out of the way) and resulting swelling / pressure was probably enough to trigger the more recent, consistent headaches. No other brain centers were obviously affected, also consistent with limited side effects.

Job number one: remove the tumor. Job number two: rest and recover. In his estimation, he didn't think we would even necessarily need to plan for things like radiation. The lab results of testing the tumor were the only way to know for certain, of course, but he was optimistic. The signs, in his opinion, just didn't seem to be pointing that way. He felt that the bulk of my symptoms could be explained by the mass effect of the tumor... so let's get it out and see how I respond. A few days in the hospital, a few weeks at home, we can do this.

As an added bonus, Dr. Nagib had an extra procedure in mind in conjunction with attacking the tumor. He plans to do an angiogram to map out the blood vessels feeding the tumor before surgery, and (if possible) embollize (block) some of the feeders to the tumor. In this way, he can begin to starve the tumor before surgery, hopefully beginning the shrinkage process.

He also had a neat way to describe the ultimate procedure itself... consider an orange. He reaches in and scoops out the center of the orange, hollowing it until the point that it collapses in on itself. Then he can pluck out the remaining "skin" of the tumor. Take that, Elvis!

All in all, he did an incredible job of (a) enhancing our trust in the process, (b) calming our fears, (c) giving us confidence that we were working with someone that knew what they were doing, knew what needed to be done, and absolutely could do it.

By the time my wife asked whether he could do the surgery, he almost laughed. "Of course! Don't even bother worrying about that! We'll just talk to my scheduling assistant..." We had gone in looking primarily for a second opinion, and walked away with a completely new surgeon and surgery schedule. And felt much better for it.

And the waiting game begins once again...

While Elvis Slept Off a Pork Rind Induced Stupor...
(Notes from 3/9/06 through 3/11/06)

As noted previously, preparations began in earnest after leaving the neurosurgeon. One of the things I was actually able to do was talk to my family... two of them were willing to drop everything and come out to stay with us and help with the kids while I was in the hospital. I feel lucky that that was possible on such short notice.

One positive of visiting the first neurosurgeon (does anyone mind if I refer to him as "Flipper" for his tie trick?) was the drugs, I think. The very next morning I noticed that my morning headache was negligible... perhaps the short term effects of swelling reduction were already evident. Who knows.

My wife got right on the ball, however. She wanted to learn as much as she could, and to be prepared to get other opinions as well. Part of that was doing some legwork and getting copies of the MRI report from Flipper. Internet research was a huge part of it as well. I was (not necessarily to my credit) pretty much willing to start playing the waiting game... I had been told what I needed to do, when I needed to do it, and what I needed to do in the meantime, and I was mostly ok with that. My wife wasn't so sure that it was worth giving a flying flip over Flipper's commentary -- especially after she read his case notes.

Apparently he didn't quite describe things in his office in quite the same terms that he wrote them in his report. He had left things much more open, less well defined. He certainly seemed to imply that his best guess was more towards the serious and potentially cancerous tumor direction -- although it could just as easily not be, apparently. Technical terms that could easily be read as "quite bad"... like "herniation".

On Friday, she was able to get a hold of the office of an extremely well respected neurosurgeon here in the cities that her family actually has had positive experiences with, as he had helped one of my wife's family members in the past. They said that they would be willing to look over the MRI reports if we could fax them... she began collecting the papers and preparing a summary sheet in earnest. In other words, she worked like a dog that weekend pulling things together, for which I will be forever grateful.

By the end of the weekend, my wife had arranged for us to fax the MRI report to one very excellent surgeon that might be willing to give us an opinion, and made an appointment to see yet another neurosurgeon on Tuesday. What a woman!

... I Almost Forgot my Favorite Part ...
(Notes from 3/8/06)

I almost forgot to mention my favorite part of the meeting with the first neurosurgeon. Among other things, he wanted to do some simple tests to make sure that my brain was still (generally) working. Things like the field sobriety thing (eyes closed, palms up, arms out, touch your nose with alternating fingers), for instance.

Nerve-wracking for me because I've never had to do them before, and I was (amusingly) nervous. I recall thinking: "Sheesh! Of course I can do this!... Can't I? What if I miss? I assume I'll fail if I peek... ... ummm... GOT IT! It's my nose! Hoorah!"

But then was the best, for me. The ultimate (I was worried) trick questions. He points at his wrist, "What's this?" And I think for a second, "ok, what answer, exactly, is he looking for?" before going with, "watch." Apparently the correct answer, because he moved on to the odd one... he grabs his necktie and starts flailing it at me, like a hooker in an old Western trying to entice a passing cowboy with a handkerchief. And he says, "ok, what's this?"

To my credit, I didn't blurt out the first thing that came to mind, and did in fact say, "your tie."

Apparently, that was enough to convince him that I wasn't seriously brain damaged. I'm glad he was convinced.

I Didn't Need to be a Neurosurgeon...
(Notes from 3/8/06)

Finally, on the morning of the 8th, my wife and I had the opportunity to discuss the MRI results with someone theoretically qualified to discuss them. We later decided that this opportunity didn't amount to as much as we would have liked, but it was a start.

He walked us through the MRI images, and one thing became perfectly clear to me. I didn't need to be a neurosurgeon to see that there was a big something that didn't belong. Especially with the contrasting dye in play. Here's my eyes, here's some brain, and here's a giant pink thingy. Ick.

And thus we met my own personal Elvis. Not good looking rocking Elvis, not even nostalgic jumpsuit wearing Vegas Elvis... pretty much sloppy, free-loading, fat and ugly Elvis. Not sure why he moved in... maybe there are some zebra-skinned couches up there that I didn't know about. Perhaps he likes British comedies (there is usually one playing in the background somewhere in the recesses of my brain). I dunno, I don't care. I just agreed with the sentiment of the neurosurgeon:

"It needs to go."

And fairly soon. He couldn't predict much more about it in that meeting (apparently), other than to say that the most important thing was to get it out so that it could be studied... we wouldn't know a great deal more (in his opinion) without pathology reports on exactly what sort of tumor it was.

Sloppy, fat, ex-rocker, in my opinion.

It still was deemed a good sign that I really was running with very minimal symptoms / side effects... partially explained by the position of the tumor in the brain (he kept saying that it was the best spot for a tumor, if you could pick one!).

He put me on some medication to hopefully reduce some of the swelling (which might help the headaches temporarily), and some seizure medicine (as a preventative, just in case). Then he very helpfully scheduled surgery for the day he gets back from vacation (about 10 days away) because he's just about to leave the office. If we have any questions in the meantime, his nurse will try and help us. Byeee!!!

It didn't annoy me as much then as it does now. It really annoyed my wife right away. But, the long and short of it was that we knew (in general terms) what we were dealing with, we knew (in general terms) what the short term process was going to be, and not much else.

Let the preparations begin...

Introductions, Continued...
(Notes from 3/7/06)

Eventually, it was MRI time. I think, by now, it was pretty clear that the radiologist was trying to say "probably a tumor" with her apologetic reading of my CT scan, but the MRI would give us all of the detail necessary, in theory. Again, aside from Jenny's brief descriptions of being "loud" and "close", I wasn't sure what to expect.

I would soon learn that "being stuffed into a toilet paper tube" is pretty accurate.

Thankfully, I'm not particularly chlostrophobic, so the worst of the process was the vibrations (I felt as if I were laying on a bank of running clothes driers). They had me in the "tube" for a good twenty-five minutes of picture-taking, then a little break while they shot me full of "contrast dye", then another fifteen minutes or so of pictures.

In the meantime, my general practictioner wanted to make sure that I could get "answers" as quickly as possible, so arranged for me to meet with a neurosurgeon the next morning to discuss the MRI results. The lab techs. that administered the MRI could really only say that the exposures seemed to have worked... they couldn't really discuss anything more.

So, I went home still not knowing exactly what was going on. 'Till tomorrow...

James, Elvis. Elvis, James.
(Notes from 3/7/06)

The weekend passed, Monday flew by (with a few odd looks from my coworkers as I explained that I would certainly be out the following morning to have my head examined), and I headed down to the clinic for my head CT. For a variety of reasons, I went by myself -- particularly since I had every intention of having the pictures taken, then trundle right off to work.

I wasn't exactly sure what to expect, but my frame of mind wasn't really on my headaches (though I had a nice one going in). I recognize that I'm just a transplanted Minnesotan, but I've always been a baseball fan, and the passing of Kirby Puckett was hitting me harder than I expected. I'm sure that the imaging technicians thought I was fearing "the worst" as I would walk back to the machines, tears in my eyes -- when really I just couldn't stop reading the Kirby Puckett testimonials in the newspaper in the waiting area. I was stupidly embarrassed by that!

The CT scan wasn't bad at all. Like being stuck inside a spinning donut up to my shoulders. At least I could fold my hands across my stomach and mostly relax. Only took something like fifteen or twenty minutes, then they asked me to wait so that the radiologist could take a peek at it. I didn't know what to expect, but by this point, I was starting to come around to the idea that I sort of wanted to find some reason for these headaches (and I started longing for the Alleve that I knew was in my car). I know, makes no sense that now I wanted to find something, but what are you going to do?

So, I'm back in the waiting area, practically crying my eyes out about Kirby (so, I'm an old softy, I admit it), and they call me back in to look at the scan results. The radiologist, a woman whose name I never got, immediately was showing me how there was an area (not an insignificant one) that seemed to indicate swelling in the brain... (not good) and what appeared to be a pocket of fluid (unknown, also not great). In other words, something was in there... something that certainly could explain headache symptoms, among other things. She recommended I have an MRI, so they could really get a good picture of what this "feature" was.

NOW.

The suddenness surprised me, but that didn't sound unreasonable. I just didn't want to wait around in the clinic all morning, so I asked if I could take a break, get a few things done, then come back in the afternoon. They took a peek at their schedule, and were thankfully able to fit me in in the middle of the afternoon. I called my wife to give her the intermediate news, then headed to the office (to clear my head, as much as for any other reason).

Something is going on, something probably serious. Thank goodness that the worst I have to show for it (so far, knock on wood) are some manageable headaches.

(Notes leading up to March of 2006, beginning in mid-November, 2005)

I can't say for absolutely certain, but I'm pretty sure that my consistent headaches began in mid-November, 2005. Not crippling headaches, necessarily (though one morning was pretty durned bad), but there. Aching. Especially in the morning, just as I woke up.

Frontal headaches, usually starting on one side or the other, but eventually a dull throb across my entire forehead. Similar to headaches I associate with eye strain... as if radiating from behind the eyes to the front of my head. What a way to start the day.

Once I got moving, they would lessen a bit... and they were easily controlled with over the counter stuff, like Tylenol. So while I would complain about them a bit to my wife (who certainly showed patience at first), I discounted them as annoying, but manageable.

As time wore on, though, it was clear that the headaches were getting to me -- and not just early in the morning. I was more irritable than usual, and seemed to be easily susceptible to the headaches coming back as I got tired during the day, or as the house grew noisy before bed, those sorts of things. Enough that my wife eventually put her foot down and made me take the matter up with my doctor.

That was in late February.

That's right... I dismissed consistent, recurring headaches for over three months before checking on them. I was focusing on the severity... but that's only one aspect.

On 3/2/06, I went in to see my doctor to discuss my headaches. He's a nice enough fellow, but not the most experienced person I've ever worked with. In his mind, the trick with headaches is trying to find the trigger. Since I didn't have any other serious symptoms (like vision problems, slurred speech, difficulty with motor skills, etc.) he was of the opinion that they were probably fairly ordinary headaches... perhaps caused by stress, or diet. He suggested I try keeping a headache diary, to try to find a trigger, and we could talk again in a month. Thanks to my wife's insistence, I conveyed the fact that we were concerned that there might be something "bigger" at work. To his credit, he listened to that and decided to schedule a head CT for the 7th.

It was an interesting weekend, after that. My wife had had a head MRI done before and hadn't found it to be the most fun experience in the world (like being stuffed into a toilet paper tube, I think she said), so I wasn't sure what to expect. Certainly I was hoping that the CT would be useful for ruling things out, not ruling them in, but it sounded a heck of a lot more proactive than keeping a headache diary. [Entry 1. Sleep. Wake up. Headache. Entry 2. Sleep. Wake up. Headache....]

About This Blog: Please be aware that this is not an Elvis fan site, by any means. The use of Elvis as a moniker is simply a joke, an attempt to make light of a fairly serious situation... the fact that I have a brain tumor around the size of a billiard ball just above and behind my right eye. Some nice ladies suggested I name it Elvis so we could celebrate the moment that "Elvis has left the building". The sentiment amused me, so I've decided to go with it.

The "Elvis is Unavailable for Comment" title is an extension of the joke. The blog is a place to record some of my thoughts on my unwelcome guest and the process of his eviction... i.e. I could care less what he has to say. Thus I am not making him available for comment.