Catch up time.
Surgery didn't go as well as hoped. Last time I saw Sarah awake was the morning of the 13th when I kissed her as she was being wheeled into surgery. It's not the 29th and she's been in a coma since.
The tumor was a lot more difficult to remove than originally planned. It was metastasized in an incredible way. The hemispheres of her brain had to be separated longer than anticipated, causing a lot of irritation and swelling. A pocket of blood and clotted blood formed in the area where the tumor was and the clotted material is just now starting to break down for the blood itself to be re-absorbed. She's had two drains in the areas to help, and is down to one now. There's a lot of swelling on the brain stem, too, which is keeping her from becoming fully functional at the moment.
Pneumonia has set in twice and she passed a blood cot into her lungs. I authorized putting a screen into her artery to protect her. Usually heperin is prescribed in these situations, but with the blood and swelling on the brain, it wasn't prescribed until just recently to try to prevent any new clots.
The vent has bounced all over the place in an effort to keep her lungs stable enough to heal. At one point the vent was doing all the breathing for her, now it's there for an assist, and hopefully she'll adapt to an even lower setting either tonight or tomorrow.
In the meantime she's heavily sedated, too give her body time to heal. With every little setback she's had it's affected the brain's ability to heal itself. They do neuro checks on her to see how she reacts. She's predictably unpredictable by responding to commands one moment, then not at all the next. Functionally, she at about the level of a newborn baby, with flashes of more. Basically her brain is going along kicking on breakers to see what works and what doesn't.
She's had me up against her living will a couple of times, which isn't easy. Her living will states - and our discussions beforehand - simply states that if she can't function at a high level in her life, she doesn't want to live. A couple of times, it looked like she had given up. She hasn't, and the neuro-surgeon has asked for patience, explaining that we can't definitively tell until the swelling on the stem is down enough for us to get a clear view of what's going on. And that might take months. She's only 35. What's a couple of months compared to us knowing if she can live a full and functional life?
As for the tumor itself... The pathologists had to dig deep in the textbooks to find something to compare it to. It wasn't cancer, and it wasn't benign. It was a tumor of bone marrow that kept bleeding out to form a new layer. Apparently, this is only the second case in history of such a tumor. (Sarah always said she had to be different.) Which brings about another worry. If the surgeon missed even a small part of it, then it might regrow. Since there's no established treatment therapy for this... I'm so glad we didn't know the immediacy of the danger she's been in for the past few months. If it had ruptured she would have been dead before she hit the floor.
There's so many scenarios that have to play themselves out in the positive for things to come out our way. Keep the prayers coming, folks. She's very much walking on a narrow ledge. Over the last couple of days that ledge has gotten a little wider, but one stupid thing, like an infection, could push her off. She's had a couple of minor victories over the last couple of days. And I'll take 'em!
But the war isn't over yet. She's strong. Strong enough to have gotten through our losing our daughter nine years ago, a miscarriage which put her in the hospital for a week afterwards. I stand on the outside, trying to encourage her to use that strength now.