Tales from the Irish Chess Union

Greetings from the Neuro ICU on Saturday afternoon 11/21. My nurse was just doing her rounds and I saw she had a rectal thermometer tucked behind her ear. I pointed this out to her and she says "uh oh, some a-hole must have my pen."

So I'm here which is where I have been since Wednesday night. Surgery was Wednesday morning and it was generally considered a success.
The extreme barber neurosurgeon said he was successful making the tunnel for the brain fluid to start flowing again (it's called a third ventriculostomy). The tumor itself cannot be diagnosed until pathology comes back from the Mayo Clinic (should be in by Wednesday, likely sooner), but they did say it had a large blood supply so they could not get too much out. So I am recovering in the Neuro ICU until stable (I've never been 'stable' so I don't know how they'll be able to tell). I was hoping they'd be able to take more out so the inclusion of this would make more sense:

If the tumor were not benign there was a specific type (Germinoma) we were hoping it would be as this could be treated with radiation but this possibility has been eliminated. So I'm still looking at the same two major possibilities: benign (no further surgery) or malignant (he's probably going back in, staying awhile and they're eventually naming a new branch of the hospital after me).
So we're still praying for benign... for obvious reasons but also because I'm ready to be done with all of this stuff. The ICU is OK but the recovery room was a pretty rough 4.5 hour experience.
The gentleman in the bed next to me provided some entertainment in my stupor. He was recovering from some sort of belly surgery and was very large and very medicated. He believed himself to be in great pain and went so far as to rip out his IV, attempt to roll off of his bed and answer "hell" when asked "sir, do you know where you are right now?"

As for me, the doctor came in and said "Mr. Rehm, I have bad news and worse news." I'm like "Whats the worse news?" He says "Your tumor is relatively large, very aggressive and there are limited treatment options..." I hang my head for a couple moments, look up and ask, "And the bad news?" He tells  me "You have Alzheimers." So I say "Well, at least I don't have a brain tumor."

So I've had some strange television viewing marathons. First it was "American Pickers" then "Family Feud" and Ghostbusters -> Ghostbusters II -> The Karate Kid.
"American Pickers" is great because they always seem to find classic motorcycles and now I want one because I have a brain tumor and I have been brain washed by the show and because #YOLO.
When I finished high school I wanted to take all my graduation money and buy myself a motorcycle. My mom said no. She had a brother who died in a horrible motorcycle accident when he was 18. And I could just have his motorcycle.

(Motorcycle joke stolen from Anthony Jeselnik - seen in this photo/GIF, also calm down I don't really have Alzheimers)
I think I will get discharged on Sunday. I'm up and walking around but I'm plugged in to several machines so it's not easy to do much. I'm basically a zombie.

I've been reading a lot of stuff online. This article helped. And an internet rabbit hole of neuroscience digging lead me to this which is relevant to my interests.
I also have several magazines but haven't been able to focus enough to put a dent in them. I blame Steve Harvey... and Egon Spengler.
For the most part, though, I am feeling fine. No headaches, no major physical complaints. I'm definitely not bored but also not doing anything productive or especially fun... mostly (and ironically) just mindless.

Here's a photo of the damage. Since this was taken they pulled out the tubes shown. It actually went around 6 inches in to my head. Get ready for some gross imagery and descriptions...

There's the post-removal tube (light brown). Freaking weird and freaking gross. Sorry. The point at which the black cable in the background crosses the light brown is roughly how much went in. The most painful part of removal was the yanking of my hair and the stitching. Also feeling brain fluid come out and leak down my back was not the highlight of my visit.
It's difficult to have visitors to the neuro ICU but I'm very grateful to those I've had... Devin has been with me non-stop throughout and has been my top nurse.
My current nurse, Debi, is a Patriots fan, so the crown is not safe... but then again, Devin has not yet stabbed me in the stomach with a needle. "Nothing to worry about,'' Debi said, noticing the concerned look on my face, "just a little prick with a needle." "Yes, I know you are," I said, "But what are you gonna do with it?"
Visitors so far have included mom, dad, brother, sister-in-law, mother-in-law, aunts all the way from New York and Florida, our wedding sponsor couple from church, our friend/realtor from Roswell, a bridesmaid and her fiance from South Carolina, a groomsman and his wife from Kennesaw and even a Brady-hater (and admirer of the original Bernard Pollard) came by, in town from Illinois...

Very greatly welcomed distractions, but right now I just want to go home and I want to watch the NASCAR race tomorrow with my family and the Patriots game on Monday night with my wife and I want Bernard Karmell Pollard to be benign so I don't have to have another operation and I want to be able to go to sleep without wondering whether I'll wake up.

I'll wrap this up with a quote from The Shawshank Redemption:
"I find I'm so excited, I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it's the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain. I hope I can make it across the border. I hope to see my friend and shake his hand. I hope the Pacific is as blue as it has been in my dreams. I hope."