Progress continues

Following last week’s spinal MRI, we met with Dr Bhalla today to discuss his thoughts about Susan having the kyphoplasty procedure. As I described it before, it's a non-invasive surgery for compression fractures where the cavity of the vertebra is filled with a small balloon followed by bone cement to restore its normal height and shape. The new images show clearly the L1 compression fracture and swelling in the surrounding area – and Susan has tenderness in that area of her back with pain when she moves. These are classic indications that kyphoplasty may provide relief. Dr Bhalla expressed some concern about Susan having general anesthesia due to her neurological condition; but her oncologist cleared her to proceed. She’ll have her scheduled chemo at UCLA on Wednesday; then have the procedure done on Thursday at Long Beach Memorial and stay overnight for observation. We’re hopeful for great results.

Meanwhile, Susan has been making progress in gaining strength and function. She’s been more conversational and in good spirits, making broader mental connections than she has in months – like when I described a church we passed and she thought of my dad. Yesterday, she joked with the boys and teased Adam by snapping her teeth at him, giving him delighted laughter. When we arrived at Dr Bhalla’s office today, Susan unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the passenger door, two simple acts of awareness I just haven’t seen in her for a long time. The current momentum is encouraging.
Her progress can be oddly difficult, like when she recently got some perspective on her state of being and became somewhat depressed. She realized “this version of myself” is hard on everyone and apologized. I dismissed any burden and reminded her she didn’t choose to have a brain tumor. It is what it is. We’re in it together. Her heightened awareness can be hard for me as well. When I visited her on Friday evening, her thoughts were clear. She asked me, “So, how’s life and all of this going for you?” It had been so long since she was capable of showing such a level of compassion for me, I barely could tell her honestly “it’s hard” before I broke down crying. She held me and comforted me. After 23 years of marriage, Susan’s support as my wife is ingrained in me. It’s just there. But it seems like a long time since I felt it like that. Gratitude and sorrow welled up equally. This brain tumor thing is tough and it hurts! Later in the car, I cried more and prayed. I felt healed.