Closers, for lack of a better title

Mariano Rivera has just recorded the last out of a 9-7 Yankees win. I only bring this up because this is just the second game in a week that they have won. I feel somehow responsible. I'm one of those goofy fans who thinks that their presence, even if only in front of the television, actually has the ability to influence the outcome of the game. And as you know, I have been a bit busy this week.

But where to start? Hmm. I guess I'll take you back to the morning of surgery. I know Steve revealed what the day was like for him; it was a little different for me. I slept surprisingly well the night before surgery, and I awoke in the morning, early and sleepy but ready. We got to the hospital at six, and before long several of our friends and family members were there with us. After I had been officially admitted, I was taken back to preop all by myself, and after I had changed and gotten settled, Steve was able to come in and wait with me.

Both the surgeon and the anesthesiologist came and visited with us in the preop area. At about 7:40, I said goodbye to Steve and was taken to the surgery room. I think they had given me something to relax me, but I really can't remember. I do know that I was remarkably calm. I felt really ready, not out of resignation but more in the excitement of getting past this place and to the next one.

In the operating room, I joked with the personnel there: "everyone told me to remind you that my tumor is on the right side of my head!" The nurse just pointed to my right, where there were four television monitors arranged in a square, each showing a different view of my head, tumor eerily visible. I took a quick look around, was quite impressed with the state-of-the-art facility (even though I had no idea what I was looking at!), and that is the last thing I remember. I have had general anesthesia on two other occasions, and each time, I was told to count backwards from 100, a sort of warning. Not this time! I was simply out. Too bad, because I had really wanted to check out that room!

When I awoke, the first thing I saw was Steve's face. However, I did have a sort of impression of wakefulness before that, as it was quite a long time after the surgery was over before I was actually fully aware--maybe as much as two hours. My next impression was of being moved from a gurney to a hospital bed, but I remember nothing of the trip there. I said to someone, "Is this ICU?" and that was when I learned I had been taken to a regular room, ICU being unnecessary because of the ease of the operation. This was good news.

My stay was pretty unremarkable, I guess. Steve has covered that well in his blog. I did have a hard time sleeping in the hospital because of nausea, probably related to either the morphine or the vicodin or both. Starting Thurday, I went cold turkey to regular strength Tylenol and did pretty well with that. At home, I'm using Motrin and doing really well. I have to watch the clock, however, because if I wait until I feel pain to take medication, I end up hurting as I wait for the effects.

My incision is sort of a medical marvel. Even though I have 28 metal staples in my head, in a a row approximately five inches long, I was able to shower and wash my hair on Saturday, only four days after surgery. Good news for all of you who had to be near me during that time. Boy, was my hair skanky. The staples are all in a tidy row, evenly spaced. And everyone has been amazed at how little hair was shaved away. Like Mariano, Dr. Badie is some kind of closer!

One funny episode occurred on Wednesday night. My nurse that night, Sherri, came in at about 9:30, and I was watching the end of the Angels game. We chatted a little about baseball, and I told her that the Angels were actually my sister's team and that I was watching the game for her. I told her my team was the Yankees. She said that her team was the Seattle Mariners, but that her favorite player had been Randy Johnson. As most people know, he is now a New York Yankee, although there are many days when we would like to give him back! I recounted to Sherri how the Yankees, the Angels and the Mariners had done over the past few days, and she said, "Wait a minute. Wasn't your surgery yesterday?" and I asked what day of the week it was. When she told me it was Wednesday, I said, "Yes, yesterday." She just shook her head and replied, "how can you possibly know baseball scores for three different teams the day after brain surgery?" What can I say? I guess we just naturally pay attention to those things that matter most.

That being said, I would like to give a heartfelt thank you to those people in my life who matter most. Thank you so much to all of you who were with me in the hospital: Steve, Mom and LeRoy, Caroline and Kiersten, Aunt Carol, Vicky, Mom and Dad Elder, and Steve's sister Kari--your presence was an encouragement to me and I felt embraced by so much love. Thank you to Glenn for bringing my goofball kids to visit on Wednesday--that really cheered me up. I especially enjoyed our play with the inhalation spirometer. Good times. Thank you to everyone who has brought food and in other ways provided for our family, including our good Rowland friends (Kathy, Stephanie, Amalia, Ana, Jessica, Miriam, Sandi, Erin, Emily, Tracy, Linda, and many others), and to Laura for her spirit-lifting visit on Monday. To those of you who are still planning to cook for and feed us, thank you too. Not having to shop or cook has been a HUGE help to both Steve and me. Thank you to Craig, Jeff and Alicia for covering my classes and taking good care of my kids. A very warm thank you to our friends Dan and Marlene for a restful weekend away and an amazing meal at Arnold Palmer's restaurant in the US Open room! A special thank you also to all of our family and friends who have prayed relentlessly that God's wisdom would guide our surgeon and his assistants--well done! Thank you to Deb, Vicky and Pastor Dave for praying with me both before and after surgery. Thanks, Mom and LeRoy, for treating Jynx as if she were your own while we were unable to care for her. If I have left out a single effort on my behalf, I apologize. I'd blame it on my brain tumor, but my kids inform me that I can't use that excuse anymore. Praise God! But thank you too! God bless you all for the ways you have blessed the Elders this month.

A super special thank you to Steve for writing the first post-op blog, even though he posted some pretty icky pictures (all with my permission, he wanted me to assure you, but I think this one, taken one week post-op, is better), and for being the first one with whom I share my great triumphs and whisper my deepest fears. Thank you for being trustworthy with all the shadowy parts of my life and for sticking around through the rough stuff, knowing right alongside me that the best is yet to come. I love you!