Well the surgery took 11 hours. Someone told me, and I don’t know if it is true or not, that for every hour of anesthesia it will take a month to recover. All I know is that I woke up with a catheter in my you know what. If you don’t know what it is let me explain. They thread a rubber hose up your urethra and inflate a small balloon in your bladder so it doesn’t come out and allows you to constantly get rid of your pee. Fortunately, I was knocked out when they put it in, but there it was when I woke up. It wasn’t painful, just odd. The nurse told me that some people have actually ripped them out with the balloon still inflated! Can’t even fathom what that might feel like.

I also had been off meds for quite a while, and as I mentioned in an earlier post, I get really rigid and miserable. So I asked the nurse if I could get my meds, to which he said, your not scheduled to take them yet. Apparently, my medicine regime had been entered incorrectly. It is funny, but getting meds out of the pharmacy is akin to getting gold out of Fort Knox! I mean they gave me morphine but god forbid they give me a Sinemet. Well that didn’t sit well with me. I had staples in my head (2 holes covered by plastic caps), a catheter in my penis, and IV’s in my arms. I explained that he better get my fucking meds or I would get up and get them myself. I was not the ideal patient at that point. Eventually things go sorted out and I was able to relax (probably slipped me more morphine). You won’t believe it, but if everything looked ok, I could be released after only one night in the hospital. I was all for that as the guy next to me had also had brain surgery but his was to remove melanoma that had spread to the brain. He was not having a good time of it as one can imagine. I managed to pass all the discharge tests and left the hospital the next afternoon.

The attendant came to my room with a wheelchair to take me out to my ride. I know I looked bad, shaved head and large staples that made me look like the son of Frankenstein. People were trying not to look, but they couldn’t help themselves, and they could only imagine what happened. But I was really glad to be going home.

You know when you have an injury, you are always careful not to disturb the area. I could hardly sleep at night worried that if I moved my head to one side or involuntarily moved and hit my head that my brains would come spilling out. I was instructed to take it easy for 3-4 months. That meant not overexerting myself. No sex or running or heading a soccer ball! No fun. Those had to be the longest 4 months of my life, NO SOCCER! Other than that, the recovery was relatively uneventful. In terms of the effect the surgery had on my PD, I would have to wait as the virus infected my brain cells and started to do their thing.

Next, side effects….



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