Normally our body’s nerve cells
communicate with each other through carefully controlled electric signals.1 What happens if they are not carefully controlled? I found this analogy:
Visualize a room full of mouse traps.
Instead of putting cheese in the mouse trap, we put a ping-pong ball on each
trap and there's not a bit of
space in this entire floor where I haven't put a mouse trap and a ping-pong
ball.
The analogy goes on to ask what would happen if you tossed a single ping-pong ball into that room.
It's going to hit one, which will bounce, hit two, which will hit four, which will hit eight and before long, the entire room has got ping-pong balls flying in it. That's a little bit like what happens with a seizure.2
The analogy goes on to ask what would happen if you tossed a single ping-pong ball into that room.
It's going to hit one, which will bounce, hit two, which will hit four, which will hit eight and before long, the entire room has got ping-pong balls flying in it. That's a little bit like what happens with a seizure.2
And that’s what
happened to Harold Friday night.
It had been a
good day. Harold played his usual early morning racquetball game then spent the
rest of the day working on projects and helping a neighbor. Our family gathered
that evening to share dinner and watch a football game. BYU was playing.
Early in the
first quarter the ping-pong balls started flying and Harold was in trouble. If he hadn’t been the one holding the remote we might
not have noticed. There were no outward signs at first. But when he fast forwarded through an important play we knew
something was wrong. Harold offered no explanation. He couldn't. He had lost his ability to
communicate. His speech was reduced to single halting words.
Now it was our
turn to jump into action. I called the hospital while Darren did a quick neurological
evaluation. Harold’s motor skills seemed fine. We even tested his
reflexes with a game of slap, a family tradition and one Harold's never lost.
Despite impaired thinking that night, he still hasn't.
We spent the
next five hours at the hospital. The diagnosis was a seizure, probably caused
by the swelling around a tumor in his brain. We were relieved to rule out
stroke or any new bleeding, but sobered by this new neurological development.
It was after
2:30 a.m. when Harold was released from the hospital. Driving home I
marveled at the events of the evening. Harold’s mind had been in chaos, ping
pong balls bouncing out of control; but our family wasn't. We had felt a calm assurance as we mobilized to comfort and sustain each other. I feel that still.
Five days have passed
and Harold has gradually regained his ability to communicate. It has been a
humbling experience. Today he will have gamma knife surgery to remove two tumors. The high resolution MRI, a part of that procedure, will also give us a better look at the
tumors scheduled for surgery October 18th.
1 http://www.abta.org/understanding-brain-tumors/symptoms/seizures.html
2 http://www.tbiguide.com/seizures.htm
2 http://www.tbiguide.com/seizures.htm
Wow. You all are still in my prayers! Thanks for your continuing example of faith and love.
ReplyDeleteI can't even imagine just how hard all of this is- but you are amazing. And your family is amazing. (If it is any consolation at all- this is a learning experience for all of us- thank you for your faith.)
ReplyDeleteThank you Sharon. You continue to share and educate through this experience. It helps me feel closer to you both.
ReplyDelete