GPS Surgery

For those of you who don't live in San Diego or follow our local weather, it is hotter than Hades here. I mention it because it has added a little something to the backdrop of our lives right now. While our time together has been sweet it has also been hot and intense. Yesterday Olivia spiked a fever of 102 and this morning my stomach didn't feel so good. It was bound to happen. On top of it all, although Phil has a nice big room, "the corner office" is a full exposure room almost all day and he (and his visitors) tend to roast. An extra fan has been brought in to keep him cool. As if he hasn't got enough to deal with...

After a weekend in which I was treated to sleeping in, being cooked and cleaned for and having all my laundry done by my sister-in-law Michelle, I am back to reality and we have received the results of today's MRI.

There were many words we didn't want to hear when talking with our physicians today, but unfortunately we heard several of them. The frontal lobe process looks ominous and it appears to Dr. Ghosh the neurosurgeon that an abscess could easily be forming. In his words, if he were to send Phil home, something "catastrophic" could " blow up" at any moment that could be devastating if not "life ending". Very graphic words with a clear message.

Phil needs to have a small scale surgery to determine once and for all what the infectious source is in his frontal lobe. There is a deeper brain infection going on as well but those areas are not amenable to surgery. So at this point a biopsy/debridement will be undertaken in the frontal lobe. He will have a high falootin' GPS MRI tomorrow to place markers to use during surgery then have the actual surgery very early Wednesday morning.

On a scale of 1 to 10, Dr. Ghosh rates this a 2 - it aint nothing! We're just going to open up the braincase, remove some tissue and replace it with a small titanium plate, ok? Anyone grow up with Steve Austin, the 6 million dollar man? That'll be Phil, minus the new eye because he gets to keep his. So far that part looks stable.

Please don't take me wrong here with the humor and levity. I am scared and exhausted and wrung out and sick to my stomach. I am also hopeful, relieved to finally be doing something about that damn thing in his head, and a witness to the power of God's people in prayer. My husband is willing to undergo a surgery that carries above average risks and is only a stop-gap measure. But he's still fighting. So, I've got to find things to laugh about. There have been too many tears of late.