Weathering another storm

Sitting here next to Dad at UW hospital. Beautiful sunny day outside in contrast to how we are feeling.

Last night I'd made Dad and Linda a going away supper (served on my new yellow Fiestaware -- thought I needed more sun in my life). The first sign of problems was that Dad stopped eating before his plate was cleaned -- this never happens. We started talking about Dad and Linda's homecoming in Ohio, whether they'd still have some kind of get-together with friends since the wedding celebration was canceled. Linda suggested an informal open house. I asked Dad, "What would you think of that? Does that sound fun?" He looked at me with a strange gaze and said, "I...I...I...," unable to get any words out. That's when we knew something was terribly wrong.

We sat with him at the table, tried to help him talk, write, anything that would show us improvement in his neural status. Then all of the sudden a switch was turned on and he was back, saying, "That was weird. I couldn't talk. What happened?" But quick as he regained cognitive capability, he lost it again. And we headed to the ER at 7:30 p.m.

After about 7 hours at the ER, a few hours sleep, and 5 more hours at UW this morning, this is what we've learned:

Neurology is fairly certain Dad's having a sustained seizure. His symptoms, along with the loss of speech and lack of communication, have been slight shaking, nystagmus (rapid eye movement) and a sustained state of sleep. He's been out of it for about 12 hours now, only slightly responding to our loud yells of, "Hey, Dad!" or "Hey, Bill!" by briefly peeking at us. Oh, I guess he has said the words "Well," "Hi," and of course his signatures: "Ah, geez.." and "Thank you" to a friendly nurse. That's about it. But he seems to be totally comfortable and pain free. He's just like the Rip Van Winkle of Madison right now.

Why is he seizing? They don't know. His oncology nurse, a brilliant woman named Lori, just talked to us about some guesses. First, she said that this incident is highly unusually, something they would not expect. The seizures could be due to swelling in the brain as a result of the trauma from radiation and chemo. Could be something called tumor necrosis, which is essentially the tumor dying and causing irritation in the brain. The good news is the doctors' consensus that the seizures are NOT being caused by the tumor itself. Based on the two MRIs he's received in two days, there is no new tumor growth nor any signs of distress caused by a new GBM.

Where are we at? The key now is breaking the seizure so that his brain can start to recover. Lori did not think this would have any negative long-term affects on Dad, if they can break the seizure. Worse case scenario is that they would have to induce a coma and insert a breathing tube to break it, and that would mean a difficult recovery. But let's not go there yet.

Something Lori said stuck with us, "This is not a reason to give up hope."

Right now I feel more terrible for my sister who is in Maryland, wanting to be here and in the midst of a stressful time at work. Heather, Dad knows that you love him and we'll see you soon. Take care of yourself because that's what Dad would want.