Neurosurgery at Ninety?

Today, I had planned to write about my father turning NINETY in three weeks.

However, on Friday, it was discovered he had two small brain bleeds (subdural hematomas) that would need a bit of brain surgery to correct.

Holey moley.

Brain surgery?  At ninety?

We had twenty-four hours to think about it.  In the meantime, they would send Dad to ICU, stop his coumadin, give him plasma and Vitamin K, monitor his vitals, and have wonderful, attractive nurses check on him every few minutes.  Aside from all the medical stuff, he was pretty happy.  

The next morning, we met the neurosurgeon.  He explained the procedure of drilling burr holes into Dad's skull and flushing out blood clots and excess protein and sheaths and fluid and whatever else didn't belong there.  He talked about this operation casually, as if he was explaining how to carve a pumpkin.

I  kept envisioning my husband's Black & Decker coming off a dusty garage shelf and whirring away.  Drills and human skulls just don't go together. 

Surgery was Sunday at 10 a.m.  We arrived at the hospital early to send Dad off with hugs and prayers.  Once they wheeled him away, we felt anxious and aimless and restless, and decided to head to the cafeteria to kill time by eating - what most Americans do when we don't know what else to do.

Some of us had eggs and grits.   Some of us had other things.

You just can't think straight when a loved one is having brain surgery.  You need comfort food.

Three hours later, the surgeon appeared to report that Dad was fine.  The doc was able to remove the goop that was causing trouble.  The doc remarked that Dad's skull was thick, and he had to drill the full length of the drill bit (for lack of a better word) in order to get to the problem.  We all chuckled, because Dad has always been thick-headed about what he was going to do and not going to do.  We now had proof.

Yesterday, Dad was moved to a regular hospital room where the nurses don't check on you every few minutes, and you get a roommate who snores.  This means you're getting better.

Hopefully, in a few days, Dad will move to rehab.  Amazing.   

My original post was about some things Dad had experienced in his ninety years.  I just added another one...

1.  Fourteen Presidential elections

2.  A manned moon landing

3.  Discovery of the polio vaccine

4.  Invention of the Jet Airliner, MRI, the microwave, video games, and cell phones.  

5..  DNA fingerprinting

6.  The creation, and loss, of two space shuttles and their crews.

7.  BRAIN SURGERY