Please God, Let Me Die

5 Things Brain Surgery Has Taught Me

By Pandora Poikilos
Apparently, it seems that it would be easier to talk about such a procedure, bef
ore the surgery than after. As with most things in life, given any situation, we
quickly draw a mental picture of what it is supposed to be like alongside its o
utcomes and reactions. When something falls short or turns out differently, we f
orget about questioning our expectations and instead run head-on to blame the fa
ctors, we think, contributed to the outcome. And so, I did the same. I convinced
myself that the surgery would be a small procedure (as mentioned by my neurosur
geon, who of course does far more complicated procedures and probably needs a ca
lm patient instead of one who would freak out to the moment of general anesthesi
a) and neglected (but thankfully, learning) some very crucial bits on the road t
o feeling better.
It's normal
After seven years, not days, not weeks, not months, seven years of having regula
r lumbar punctures barge into my life and make a mess of it, I got it in my head
that the surgery would be my permanent fix-it. Like it would become a better br
and of band aid than I was used to. A short span of healing would see to it that
my life is all back to 'normal'. I could see well enough to drive without havin
g to worry about some major blindspots. I would be able to see a full colour cha
rt and not mistake colours. I was wrong. See, having a device in your head and a
tube running from your brain to stomach (otherwise known as a VP shunt), is rea
lly anything but normal. The first difference that I did feel was that my headac
hes were gone and my eyes felt so much less heavy and I thought, "Wow, it's grea
t." But then the first time I looked in the mirror, I saw a bald headed patient,
with surgical dressings on her head, right side chest and right side abdomen, s
o yes, it's not normal that you would need to have all that done just to have a
chance at being less hazardous when driving. And as often as I may sometimes fee
l down or make a bitter remark at wondering why I would have to go through this,
there are even more times when I think, what's the use of being normal anyways,
you lose out on every single chance of being extraordinary and being in the com
pany of even more extraordinary people.
Pain like never before
Now, as detailed as everyone (neurosurgeon, assisting doctors, anesthesiologists
) will be about how you're going to feel immediately after the surgery and how y
ou're supposed to feel, nothing prepares you for the pain you do feel those mome
nts when you're regaining consciousness, wondering if it's all over. I remember
asking the nurse if it was finished, asking her if it wasn't finished if we coul
d stop for awhile, telling her that there was so much pain and pressing her hand
so tightly, that she automatically guided my fingers to the little knob that ha
d been placed between my fingers to press for the little drops of morphine that
would function to ease my pain. But even as you wait for the morphine to drip th
rough from IV to blood or in the moments when the pain comes back again, this is
pain so bad that you don't want to imagine another five minutes of it. As your
fingers and toes curl up, the only thought running through your head is, "Please
, God, let me die." Yes, the anesthetic and the beginning stages of morphine mig
ht make the rest of the world incoherent but until you have those precious drops
of medical miracle in your system, nothing keeps you from the pain. Nothing. Af
ter more than three weeks of recovery, I'm thankful that I've not had to cross p
aths with such pain like that again. Yes, there is pain on a day to basis as the
surgical wounds heal. There are moments when I am torn between the discomfort o
f lying down to the pain of keeping my neck upright when I sit but because somet
hing far worse has landed on me, I know these moments of 'discomfort' will pass.
Yes, it's really better not to know
I can't remember how long after the surgery before I regained complete conscious
ness but I remember as I was waiting for the nurses to sponge me the next mornin
g, I felt very small tiny trails of dried blood at the sides of my face from for
ehead to ear, I felt little scratch marks on both side my forehead, literally in
the middle of my temples. When I got home and got to have a proper bath, standi
ng in front of a full length mirror, I saw more scratches on the inner part of m
y left arm with a little needle mark. I remember thinking, "Wait. All these are
new. And I don't remember these bits." Then again, as I watched the Manchurian C
andidate (Denzel Washington), really bad choice by the way if you're recovering
from brain surgery, they show this bit where your head is clamped down with a me
tal piece when having brain procedures done, obviously to keep you still but it
also has this jarring Frankenstein image drilled into your head, and I thought,
"You know what, never mind." The scratches and the marks would heal even before
my first surgical check up, the surgery was an overall success and I didn't want
to smear that image by thinking of what was done and even more so, how it was d
one, it's just not going to help me recover in any way.
This is me
As delightful as it is to have well wishers when going through a difficult patch
, I think its far worse when people around you don't understand what you're goin
g through. Not only do they misinform themselves on what you need or what you've
just been through, they take immense pleasure in spreading the wrong informatio
n. So, from having a VP shunt I can probably end up as having had a brain tumour
or dying from one as incorrect as it may all seem. I had a VP shunt. Period. On
ly the ones who really care will make it a point to find out what this means and
what it entails. Which is why as nice and as sweet as some people have offered
to be, I have not been keen on all visitors. Not to mention, that even with a sc
arf and proper clothes, I still feel that I look like something the cat has drag
ged in. Yes, people may think this is rude, insensitive and even a little nutty.
But how would they know? Nobody knows the pain or discomfort I can and may feel
. Nobody can tell me how to feel at any given time. The only one who literally h
as insider information, is me. Also, not everyone is mind readers. At some point
, I know I have to voice out and say, "This is how I feel, I need to rest." We a
re each different. For instance, there was another lady who had her shunt surger
y on the same day as myself. As I got up and started talking, with no blue black
marks on the surgical areas, started feeding myself and got discharged, her shu
nt got blocked. Within a short period of time, her skull bones suffered an infec
tion and the right side of her forehead sunk in. Same shunt type. Same day. Same
surgeon even. We really are different in our own way. And in a moment of weakne
ss, when I think I would rather be anyone else than me, I have learnt to seek so
lace in knowing, this is me. I may not be what someone else wants me to be but I
can be what I want to be.
What's the rush?
I remember hearing somewhere that getting sick is the body's way of telling your
mind to slow down. You cannot believe how accurate this is, especially when it'
s your brains that have had a little 'awakening.' I was so confident in thinking
that I would be able to resume my normal tasks within two weeks. Nothing like b
rain surgery to wake up your senses, isn't it? I found the computer screen way t
oo bright, almost as though I needed sunglasses just to sit in front of it. An h
our of sitting up, got me feeling tired enough to lie down at least for a little
while. I even had problems with spelling! When having a conversation, I would n
eed to literally give myself a minute before composing a sentence. Very thankful
ly, I am blessed to be surrounded by people who didn't laugh or raise an eyebrow
when they realised these little differences. Even when I brought it up with Pea
s, knowing I had yawned through many a conversation with him and him not saying
anything, all he said was no one expects you to bounce back after something so b
ig. I remember having asked my neurosurgeon before the surgery, when I would be
able to do my normal tasks, his answer was very simple and to the point, "If you
're up to it, you're up to it." And really, that is the absolute truth. Unless i
t is immensely vital to rush around and get things done, (which if you're doing,
 then I think, you may want to reconsider) there is really no harm in taking thi
ngs slow and doing what you have to, one thing at a time. After all, is rushing
going to make it any more perfect or provide our bodies with any extra energy th
at we may need?
The most important thing of all in knowing that no matter how difficult a situat
ion is and in knowing that we learn from it, is also in believing that it will p
ass. As much as you're having a "Please God, let me die moment" or when everythi
ng has just caved in and you feel weighed down by all that rubble, when someone
says it will pass, don't take it as an insult or think the person is being rude.
But consider who its coming from and most times, it'll be from someone who has
seen a little or even a lot more than you have, so when they say, it will pass,
it's their short but gentle way of saying - It really does get better, even if i
t takes longer that you expect.