Sorry y’all, wasn’t thinking. This is a new thread asking if anyone has heard from/about him?
Q
Anything yet?
Q
He’s signing up for Geico car insurance.
I heard he got his ass kicked by an astronaut.
With all due respect, WTF?
Nevermind
Fuck you Nobody, I had a terrifically witty and snide reply all set out for your pre-edited post, and you friggin’ deleted it on my preview.
May a thousand camel fleas infest your anus…
:eek: Sound horrible, but at least you don’t get to mock me now.
And since you’re threatening me, guess I’d better get some protection
Caveman is one of our members who has just had major cranial surgery, and I was just concerned because we had not heard anything yet about how he is.
I apologize for being unclear. This is an extension of another post and I forgot to include details.
He’s a terrific guy.
Quasi
Oh, well I hope he’s doing well!
I’m getting worried, too.
No follow-up posts.
For those who don’t know, Caveman was diagnosed with a brain tumor and was scheduled to have surgery Tuesday. It’s not surprising he hasn’t checked in since then; it’s major surgery. I hope everything’s okay.
I hope he’s doing OK. He’s probably just still at the hospital recovering and being under observation.
Just chiming in to add my best wishes.
I’m back! I’ve just arrived home, and while my wonderful lady is out picking up my pain and antibiotic meds, I thought I’d come one by. I’m alive, wiser, and still aching quite a bit, but not for any reason you’d imagine.
The surgery was a total success, a non-event really: 98% of the tumor, which tested out wholly benign, was removed, with the remainder left in place as it was calcified and close to the sinus that runs down the center of the brain. That remainder is probably not even viable cells, but we’ll be keeping an eye on them anyhow.
The excitement started just after they closed me up, though. My body temp took off like a rocket, hitting 105F at one point, and my heart rate did the same. As it would turn out, I’m allergic to the anesthetic gas that was used, and my body responded with the rare nifty trick they call “Malignant Hyperthermia.” I was fortunate that one of the doctors there had seen such a thing before, some 30 years ago, and knew how to treat it. With a formulation for Dantrolene, the only known antidote, obtained from the Malignant Hyperthermia Association of the US, my body temperature was reduced over the course of hours, then for days after just to be sure.
I awoke in the ICU to the worried faces of my family, still intubated, hands restrained, legs in pneumatic massage devices. I crudely signed to ask the time, which was 10pm, 12 hours after I was wheeled into surgery. I signed back W-O-W. Then I made my displeasure at the breathing tube know through a very crude but well known sign. I didn’t like getting extubated very much, but at least I could croak answers back. Still quite sedated, I answered the nurse who asked to rate my pain on a 1 to 10 scale “Pi,” and she asked my wife if that was my normal personality. My family nodded in exasperation.
The next 5 days were very painful. Dantrolene burns intensely when it enters a vein. There was weeping on my part. Fortunately, On Thursday I got a pick line, which saved me much pain, but a lot of damage had been done. I had 5 IVs in my right forearm and hand at different times, and 3 more in the left. The veins are extremely irritated, and my forearms and hands are pretty pink and puffy, and painful when not supported.
Walking has not been a problem, balance and such are about as before, although spending the better part of a week in bed still has me a touch dizzy now and then. The only notable side effect from the actual surgery is some minor numbness on my right shin and calf.
I became a minor celebrity in the ICU, with seemingly random doctors and nurses stopping by to discuss my rare condition. I was kinda nice to meet people; I do wish I had been wearing pants for the occasion, though.
I made it to a regular room on Friday, which was very nice. There was one hiccup, though, what was perhaps the most awkward question ever asked of me by a woman while I was naked in her presence: what is that sir, back there? A quick look down, and I saw that the tech about to help me shower was pointing to the temperature probe sticking out of my butt. In the excitement to get me out of ICU, they had overlooked removing it. Quite the professional, she waited until we were done and out of earshot before she broke down laughing . The nurse who she sent in to retrieve it seemed baffled that such an oversight had occurred, but with a dignity-diminishing tug, she righted the situation, and even gave me a pack of heated wipes to clean up.
So now I’m at home, typing slowly, with warm compresses strapped to both arms, enjoying the effects of the vicodin, near the glow of the Christmas Tree, while my wife warms some split pear soup. Brain Surgery is nuthin’…getting home, that’s a challenge.
Very good news indeed, Caveman!!!
I am very happy that everything we all hoped for turned out as it should have and I am glad you checked in with all of us!
Now get plenty of rest, and let that pretty lady give you some TLC and major spoilage!
You just made my Holiday Season, brother!!!:):):):):):):)
Quasi
I’m glad everything’s OK, Caveman. That Malignant Hyperthermia bit was scary–but your post had me laughing by the end.
Glad things turned out well. Take it easy, and get better.
Welcome back, Caveman!
Be well.