My mom and I were fairly close. We would talk on the phone weekly and even though she wasn't intensely computer literate like me we would exchange the occasional email. She tended to be the firewall between me and my dad. Growing up a lot things happened that really set the tone between him and I. Only to be completely rewritten after the happenings of 2009.
In January of 2009 I got that call that as a child you never want to receive. "Your mom is sick with brain cancer. She's going to see a specialist. We will keep you informed as things progress." I was just totally shocked and broke down in tears. My wife in the other room I slowly worked my way in there to present her with this new piece of news. She could see from my watery eyes that something was wrong. That was a very hard day to swallow for me.
As time passed after the news I found I was getting a lot of headaches. I pretty much ignored it and chalked it up to the stress of my mother. When they say, "You should listen to your body". They aren't kidding. One morning in the first week of March I woke up with a massive headache accompanied by a greatly decreased ability to hear from my left ear and blurry vision in my left eye. What the hell was this all about I said to myself. I certainly wasnt hungover. Time to call my doctor. When I got there into the room I was purely expecting her pleasant social self that we enjoy so much but instead I was met with a much more serious tone from her. "You don't look right. Lets get you an MRI."
Unfortunately due to scheduling issues I was forced to wait two days and trek to the MRI facility on Wednesday. I was feeling a little better that day and thought, "Oh maybe it was just sinuses." This was my first time ever being shoved into a coffin sized tube thats at an uncomfortable 60 degrees all the time. Most likely a method for cooling the magnets that penetrate your body and take neat little snapshots of what is transpiring inside. We can all thank Nicholas Tesla for his contribution to this wonderous although archaic machine. After spendind almost 45 minutes of nothing more than THUMP THUMP THUMP repeating in the tube occasionally broken up by a far off voice in a speaker we were done. "Mr. Warchut can you wait out in the lobby. We need to give you your films now and have you call your doctor immediately" Huh? What did they find? A nuclear device in my head? An alien? Oh it can't be that bad. A few minutes later the radiologist comes out and hands me the films. "Please call your doctor. We just talked to her." Utoh.. this must be bad.
I head out to the SUV with my wife reaching for my cell phone as we walk. Fully expecting to leave a message I was greeted with. "She was expecting your call. Let me go get her for you. Please hold!" Double crap, now I know this can't be good. I usually have to play phone tag for days with them. Moments later she picks up. "Michael it seems you have an eight centimeter meningiomma tumor on your left frontal lobe. I already have a call into a neurosurgeon at John Muir Hospital. He's down in Brentwood and I've worked with him before. He's very good." I suppose I should have been more shocked at what I was being told but my emotions seemed to be more on pause. It just wasnt phasing me. Was I shutting down? Was my brain about to do a blue screen of death? And what the hell is a meningiomma? I had never heard of it. Come to find out its because its extremely rare in males. Sigh. Was I born the wrong gender?
About twenty minutes later my phone rings. It was the neurosurgeons office. The soonest they had open was Friday morning. Friday morning? That's like forever now.
Time passed at a geological speed until my appointment. We hopped in the car and drove for what felt like an eternity. Gee don't they have a surgeon on this planet I could I kept thinking to myself. Finally after what felt like an eternity we arrived at Johh Muir's Brentwood facility. Who knew this big fancy building was in the middle of uh nowhere. The land must have been cheap is all I can say.
We arrived into the office. My wife filled out some paperwork and then we sat and waited for about 10 minutes. A nurse came out and grabbed us and took me back to weigh me and take my temp. No idea what that has to do with my brain but ok. Then we were led to an office to wait for the Dr. Moments later in walks Dr. Counelis in a very nice three piece suit. I felt a little under dressed in my jeans and a t-shirt. We did our greeting pleasantries and then he got right down to business with my spouse. They talked about me like I wasn't even in the room. My mind faded off into dreamland. "I swear he looks like a pro baseball player I've seen", I say to myself. The whole time I keep catching words of surgery, resection, craniotomy, malignant and benign. Suddenly a whole statenment from his mouth blindsides me. "You mean he's an engineer and he's been working all this time with the tumor. With a tumor that size I am surprised he can function at all." And thats when the real reality of what's about to happen to me hit. I was going to have this man poking, cutting, suctioning and essentially molesting my most prized possesion. Suddnely I screamed out in my head, "It may be neurons and aerons and a few pounds of grey matter but its mine all mine. You better be damn careful with it."
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