Been a while...and Pat

So I keep wanting to write something but I haven't really had anything to write.  We will be moving in 8 weeks, so I guess the countdown begins.

I had written a while ago about how my friend Patrick has a brain tumor and how he was in the hospital over Christmas time.  The tumor isn't cancer, but it was in a part of his brain that controls a lot of important stuff, and it blocks the flow of brain fluid, so it will build up and cause major problems if he doesn't have the shunt in his head.  The doctors had talked about doing radiation but he met with a bunch of different doctors and one of the top surgeons in the U.S. (who is in San Francisco) thought that they should go ahead and try to remove the tumor.  This was for various reasons, including the fact that the tumor could eventually become cancerous, and the SCARY fact that the type of radiation that he would need would LOWER HIS IQ BY 25 POINTS.  Who knew?!

So for the last month or so Pat's been complaining about having to go back to the hospital.  He kept joking that he wanted the surgeons to play "Highway to the Danger Zone" when they did the surgery, and that he was going to yell "dead man walking" when they took him down the "green mile" to the OR.  He told me the other day (before the surgery) that he was singing "Don't Fear the Reaper" and his mom wasn't amused.  I kept giving him a hard time about complaining and being dramatic.  I hope he didn't think that I thought it wasn't a big deal.  I just can't be serious about serious stuff.  

Patrick had the surgery on Wednesday.  They took him in late, not until noon, and he was texting me up until about 11:45, complaining about having to wait.  He wasn't out of surgery until after 8pm.  It was obviously MAJOR surgery.  He had a biopsy of his tumor and his shunt installed a few months ago, and that was still surgery in his head, but it wasn't nearly as invasive as this time.  Last time he was in surgery for hours, and then late the next day he called and sounded HORRIBLE.  I was so scared after I talked to him, he sounded like he had gotten run over by a truck.  The next day he called me and sounded fine, didn't even remember calling the first time....he had just been really out of it.  This time is different.

Pat hasn't woken up and he's still on a respirator.  He had several seizures during the first night.  They have him sedated and when they bring him out of sedation he doesn't wake up, but they have been able to check his reflexes and stuff like that and those seem ok I guess.  The doctors seem to think this is within the realm of normal, since it was such major surgery, but when Pat was first given his consult, they said that he would be out of the hospital in three days.  This is obviously not what they expected.  It just scares me to think of him with a breathing tube and everything, when just hours before he had been texting me and complaining and threatening to do the surgery himself if they didn't hurry up.

I think I worry more than the average person about stuff like this.  When I was in 8th grade I had a friend that was hit by a car and died.  I KNEW people could die, I KNEW kids could die....but it didn't seem real until that happened.  I was messed up for a long time.  In fact, I don't think I've been the same since then.  My grandpa had died a few months before, and it was really sad and scary, but it was different.  He had had cancer and he had been sick for a long time, and although he wasn't OLD, he definitely wasn't a kid either.  It was just different.  When I was 20 my friend Ginger was at work and collapsed.  Her heart had stopped for no real reason and they weren't able to revive her until over 20 minutes had passed.  She was on life support in the hospital for a couple days but she was brain dead and she died.  I can't even think about it without feeling like I'm going to throw up.

Patrick probably just needs more time to recover.  They had to cut into actual brain matter and apparently you don't just bounce back from that.  The doctors seem encouraged by all the little signs that he will be ok.  They still feel that the surgery was the best option, and will benefit him in the long run.  When Pat wakes up, he's going to be pissed....he knew that even their estimate of a week in the hospital was crap, and that he'd be stuck in their longer.  He only has 2 seasons of Seinfeld on dvd with him and if he goes through those episodes and he isn't discharged, there will be hell to pay.

Joking aside though, I'm terrified.  If I think or even type about what I fear, I will fall apart.  I can't handle saying it out loud.  Its so unfair that someone who doesn't drink or smoke or do drugs or do ANYTHING would have this happen to them (but I always told him all the Mountain Dew couldn't be good.)  Its so weird that someone can be in the middle of finals in college and all of a sudden find out they have a brain tumor.  It is hard to wrap my head around the fact that he's not even breathing on his own right now and he was talking about surfing just a little while ago.

Pat will probably get better and read this and I just want him to know that this doesn't mean I can't make fun of you for being a whiner, but I really hope that everything works out and you can put this behind you.  Also I hope that you can find a girlfriend that doesn't suck.  Sorry.  I just had to say it.

Think good thoughts for Pat.  He's my friend and he needs to get better :)

oh and P.S. I only had two really dumb, really old pictures of you on my laptop so I stole the one off your blog thing.  You can thank me later for using one where you still had hair and no giant scars.