<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7969095538982622797</id><updated>2012-02-16T12:49:38.502-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Angie's Brain</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7969095538982622797/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesbrain.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Angie M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18056680463561907696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>2</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7969095538982622797.post-1003253097086667769</id><published>2007-09-13T19:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-13T19:54:37.284-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Angiogram (aka THE NIGHTMARE)</title><content type='html'>I had an angiogram on August 24. My husband and I took our son Jeremy to daycare that morning and then drove to Vanderbilt. We were supposed to arrive at radiology on the first floor at 8:30 and the procedure was supposed to be at 10. We parked in the patient parking garage and promptly got lost, we couldn't find the elevators, then we couldn't find the skywalk that leads to the hospital. We finally arrived at radiology at 8:45. We checked in and sat in their waiting room. I was starving because I hadn't had anything to eat or drink that morning as per the instructions Dr. Mericle's nurse had given me. I started getting cranky at about 9:30. Finally, I asked when we would be called. She said that my procedure wasn't until 10 and they would call me soon. Did they just have us come early so we could sit in the waiting room?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, they called me and we went back to the holding room. I put on the gown and they started an IV. The nurse asked me some medical questions. She explained that my doctor had ordered me to take some medicine before the procedure to protect my kidneys from damage caused by the dye used. She gave the nasty stuff to me to drink with a small amount of Sprite. Then, we sat there, and sat there, and sat there, and....sat there. At about noon, we were still there and starting to get worried about Jeremy. Will we make it to daycare by 6 to pick him up? So, we asked and the nurse assured us that "we were next". So, I laid there, and laid there, and laid there. Finally, Mike HAD to get something to eat. I didn't blame him, I needed food too. It was almost 2 at this point. He went to find some food at the cafeteria. While he was gone (of course), they came to take me back. At that point I was upset worrying about Jeremy. There was no way we were making it back to daycare by 6. I started to cry as the nurse wheeled me back to the procedure room. She stopped in the hallway and asked me what was wrong, was I nervous? I told her that I was worried about my husband and my son. I told her that I was afraid I would come back to the holding room after the surgery and my husband wouldn't be there. She said it was my choice and they could stop and schedule it for another day. I told her I had to get it done that day because I had already wasted my whole day in the hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was still crying when they moved me to the procedure table. My kidneys were already hurting from laying on my back all day. The hard table made this pain worse. I let the nurses know. They were busy asking me dumb questions and telling me to calm down and stop crying. I didn't want to talk to them, I was mad and hungry, and my back really hurt. She put something in my IV and I started to breath slower and calming down, but my back still hurt. They started the procedure, numbed the area, made the incision and inserted the catheter. My head felt warm as the dye entered my brain. I could feel everything. My back still hurt. I was crying again, asking if I could role over, but they said to hold still. I kept saying my back hurt, they kept giving me more medicine, but it still hurt. Finally, hours later, Dr. Mericle came in and stood by my face. I asked him if it was an aneurysm, he told me it was, he told me it needed to be clipped. I started crying. I told him my back hurt. He called to the nurse to give me more meds. I heard her say "I'm out, I've given her everything I have". I started to get scared. Oh no, she's out and they haven't finished. I heard Dr. Mericle's intern tell me they were all done and he was going to remove the cathetor. He said "you'll feel some pressure now". Pressure? How about excrutiating pain??!! I started screaming and crying. Dr. Mericle rushed to his interns side barking orders at him. I heard him saying "Angela, you have to calm down, you have to start crying". I couldn't, it hurt so bad. I started crying harder, the intern couldn't hold the artery anymore and my blood splashed him! Oh god! I thought I was going to die. The nurse ran to my head and grabbed my face she told me to close my eyes and she was speaking very calmly telling me I was okay. I started to breath and calm down. They told me they were trying to plug the artery so I wouldn't have to stay in the hospital for 6 hours. What? 6 hours! What about Jeremy??? Did Mike make arrangements for him?? I started yelling at them all that I wanted to go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They finally finished and wheeled me back to the holding room. The holding room nurse Donna told me that Mike had to go pick up Jeremy. I started yelling at the nurses and the intern that it was their fault my husband wasn't there. The intern tried to touch my bandage to check it for bleeding. I screamed for him not to touch me. I yelled that he hurt me and he could never touch me again. I wanted him gone. Obviously, it wasn't his fault, but I was losing control. I pulled the blood pressure cuff off and through it on the floor. I yelled for the guy that put my IV in to take it out. Everyone was trying to calm me down, my back still hurt, I was so mad. They gave me a nice big dose of something in my IV and I finally calmed down and fell asleep. When I woke up, Mike was there. I immediately asked where Jeremy was. He explained that he was able to get a hold of our friends Don and Veronica and they picked him up from school. They were keeping him for the night. Thank GOD! I relaxed and begged for food. Mike had brought me some McDonald's french fries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Mericle came in shortly and explained the results. Yes, it was an aneurysm. He said the pain medication they used was enough for a large man to fall asleep. He said it didn't work on me for some reason. He promised if I ever needed something like that again, he would put me under. He explained the surgery again and answered our questions. He said he wouldn't wait too long to get it done. He said the artery was only 2mm wide and my aneurysm is 4mm wide, so it really needs repaired. The narrow opening would not allow for coiling. I had to lay there for another 3 1/2 hours or so and finally was released at about 10pm. I immediately threw up when we got home. I was thankful I didn't do it in my car. I laid down on the couch and rested for the weekend. I took Monday off work and went back on Tuesday. I was still feeling tired and sore, so I didn't make it to school on Tuesday night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called that week and scheduled the surgery for October 8. I let my school advisor know that I would be out for the class starting October 9. I told her I would finish out the class I was in.  She said it was no problem and she would do the paperwork for the leave.  I let my boss know the surgery date and that I would be out of work for about 6 weeks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7969095538982622797-1003253097086667769?l=angiesbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/1003253097086667769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7969095538982622797&amp;postID=1003253097086667769' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7969095538982622797/posts/default/1003253097086667769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7969095538982622797/posts/default/1003253097086667769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesbrain.blogspot.com/2007/09/angiogram-aka-nightmare.html' title='The Angiogram (aka THE NIGHTMARE)'/><author><name>Angie M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18056680463561907696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7969095538982622797.post-3269165325914610068</id><published>2007-09-12T17:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-13T19:04:06.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How they found it</title><content type='html'>I decided to start this blog to chronicle my upcoming brain surgery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In July of 2007, I experienced serveral really bad headaches that felt like migraines. I would just lay in a dark room and wait it out. I remembered that my nephreologist (kidney doctor) mentioned that I have an increased risk for aneurysms because I have polycystic kidney disease. So, I made an appointment with my family doctor, Dr. Holloway. I saw him on July 16. He thought I was having migraines and mentioned he could give me a shot and then prescribe me with some medication to take when I feel one coming on, but he ordered some blood tests and an MRI/MRA to make sure there was nothing serious going on and to check for aneurysms. He sent me to the hospital for the tests and asked me to come back to the office afterwards, he was having the tests sent to him right away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The MRI/MRA went okay. I was really nervous, but I felt good that I was getting it done. I kind of thought that it would show nothing, and I could rest easy knowing I just had annoying migraines.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the testing, I went back to the office and waited to see my doctor. His nurse came out and told me I should go eat some lunch and come back in about an hour and they would have the results. So, I went to McDonald's even though I had already started my diet and ate some french fries. I was just nervous and wanted to eat I guess. I went back to the doctor's office. As soon as Dr. Holloway saw me walking down the hall, he showed me to his office. I sat on his couch while he explained that they found a small 4mm aneurysm on anterior communicating artery. I just sat there in shock, trying to process his words. I never really thought they would find something. He explained that it was small, and they would probably just need to monitor it to watch it for growth. I felt a little better about that. He said it was unlikely to be the cause of the migraines. He said he called a neurosurgeon friend of his that suggested he refer me to a neurosurgeon at Vanderbilt that specializes in aneurysm, Dr. Mericle. I left the office feeling uneasy about the whole thing, but I figured I would be okay. I just needed to make an appointment with Dr. Mericle. He would be able to answer more of my questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw Dr. Mericle at the Neurosurgery clinic at Vanderbilt hospital on July 30. He explained to me that the location of the aneurysm (anterior communicating artery) made it dangerous even though it is small. He suggested surgery. When he brought up surgery, I was shocked. I had read a lot on the internet that seemed to match the information I got from Dr. Holloway that 4mm aneurysms are considered small and just need to be monitored. I asked some questions about that and he explained again that the location of the aneurysm is the reason he is recomending surgery. He began to explain the surgery as if it was no big deal. He would cut along my hairline, there would be no shaving of my head or anything. He would pull my skin down and remove a small peice of my skull and clip the aneurysm with a metal clip that would cut of the blood supply and prevent it from growing and rupturing. I would be in the hopital for 3 or 4 days then ready to go home. Then he went into a bunch of statistics. The sugery has a 95% success rate. He also went on explaining the survival rates of a rupture and the chances of rupture. All the numbers were swimming through my head. All I could think about was my son Jeremy, only 2 years old. He wouldn't care the surgery has a 95% success rate if his Momma is one of the 5%.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr. Mericle went on the explain that I needed to have a cerebral angiogram before the surgery to confirm the aneurysm is really there and that it can't be fixed by coiling or another procedure. He explained the angiogram. I would be sedated, but awake. They would put a tube in my artery from my groin and push it up to my neck. Then they would inject some dye into the artery and take x-rays while the dye traveled through my brain. He suggested that we schedule the angiogram for a Friday and the sugery for a Monday. At first, I said okay. I was just in shock. Then, when the nurse came in to schedule everything, I told her that I wanted to get the angiogram and then discuss the surgery later after the results. She understood. So, we scheduled the angiogram for August 24. I left the office in tears. I got to the parking garage and sat in my car trying to fight off my tears of fear and shock as I fumbled on my phone dialing my husband. I cried and explained to him that I might need surgery. He was upset but assured me as he always does that he would be there holding me hand through it all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7969095538982622797-3269165325914610068?l=angiesbrain.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://angiesbrain.blogspot.com/feeds/3269165325914610068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7969095538982622797&amp;postID=3269165325914610068' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7969095538982622797/posts/default/3269165325914610068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7969095538982622797/posts/default/3269165325914610068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://angiesbrain.blogspot.com/2007/09/how-they-found-it.html' title='How they found it'/><author><name>Angie M</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/18056680463561907696</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
