Tag Archives: acoustic neuroma experience

Acoustic Neuroma Lessons – Eye Health #2

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Initial Treatment

In the hospital immediately following surgery, nurses taped a plastic bubble over my eye, providing a greenhouse effect.  Moisture built up in the bubble and kept my eye from drying out.  They also put lubricant in my eye that was a messy gel that liquefied and coated my eye.

The surgeon suggested putting a gold weight in, which I learned was actually titanium.  Having it sewn into my eyelid was good news because I had learned that a small weight would help the lid close more effectively.  The bad news is that you don’t get a gold weight if your face movement will return quickly.  It was a reminder of the long road ahead.

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Different samples were taped to my eyelid to get the correct weight – just enough to close my eye but not too heavy or I wouldn’t be able to open it. After going back and forth, a decision was made. The appropriate weight was heavier than ideal but necessary due to the extent of my paralysis. The weight had links in it like a watch so it would curve with my eyelid. (the picture shows the size, a little over a half-inch.)

Having the platinum weight sewn into my eyelid was a short procedure done while awake with local anesthetic.  Well, short according to the doctors.  It felt like the longest 40 minutes of my life.  It was very strange to have someone cut into my eyelid and insert a foreign object.  Then they stitched me up and sent me back to my room. My procedure was done while I was still in the hospital, but frequently they are added several weeks or months later.

I continued to use the bubble only at night and then with time I was able to only use nighttime gel.  Some doctors recommend scotch taping the eye shut or the use of an eye patch.  My doctor didn’t want me to do those things as he felt that I could scratch my cornea.  As with anything in medicine there are different opinions on treatment and its whatever a doctor and patient agree to. Mine preferred bubbles.

I’m not very knowledgeable about other options but I’ll list them for info.  Googling any of them will provide more detail.

– A procedure called a Tarsorrhaphy partially sews the eyelids partially closed until movement returns.

– Eyelid Palpebral Spring surgery is another option, which assists with blinking.

– Lateral Canthoplasty is a procedure done by shortening the lower eyelid to keep the lower eyelid from falling from the eye.

Anyway, back to my journey. I now had a black eye to add to my existing appearance issues – a row of 29 staples behind my ear from brain surgery and a motionless right face. I’ll never forget the self-consciousness as I was wheeled out of the hospital and crawled into my waiting car. I couldn’t believe what I was living but the pain reminded me that I was indeed alive.

In Part Three I’ll talk about recovery and how things have changed — or not — over time.

Note: Pictured above is a NitEye Dry Eye Comforter Eye Bandage. They aren’t on google but can be found here: NitEye

Acoustic Neuroma Lessons – Eye Health

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Part One – There’s a lot to say here, so I’ll continue in the next post.

When I was diagnosed with an Acoustic Neuroma, one of the things that I read about was the effect on eye health.  That just didn’t make sense to me. I read about dry eye, gold weights, and patches. It all sounded rather horrifying and I quickly discounted it as anything that I would have to deal with.

After surgery, life taught me otherwise. I learned a lot about eye health — I no longer had the luxury of ignoring it. When I woke from brain surgery, the nurse put drops in my right eye every few minutes. In my confusion, I didn’t understand why she didn’t put them in both eyes. It even occurred to me that I didn’t understand why she was doing it at all. However, I noticed that after keeping my eye open for a couple minutes it would get dry. Then it started to sink in — my face was half paralyzed. There were many issues to deal with, but for now I’ll just talk about my eye.

My facial nerve was stretched across the tumor like a ribbon.  After surgeons spent hours irritating my facial nerve by separating it from the tumor, it stopped working. They were confident that at least some movement would return to my face, but they didn’t know when or how much. It would be at least 6-7 months based on a nerve regeneration rate of an inch a month.

Since facial muscles also involve the muscle that close the eye, blinking became something that I had to think about. The muscles responsible for opening my eye were not affected, so opening my eye was not a problem – just closing it. My normal, left eye was finished with a “normal” blink while my effected eye had only made it halfway. I had to learn to think about making a complete blink. I had to close, relax, and feel my eye close fully. On top of that, the eye had lost its ability to tear, effecting the eye as well as sinus on my right side.

To be continued. . .

Brain Surgery – Recovery takes time

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Yes, recovery from brain surgery is an uphill climb that’s exhausting, but it’s worth the trip. For those of us who have experienced having a brain tumor, life is precious. Each life event that we experience post-treatment is a gift. When I found out I had a brain tumor, it wasn’t my past that passed before my eyes but my future. Would I be here for my daughter’s wedding. Would I meet my grandchildren?

Our brains are vulnerable. Our brains map who we are. Having it invaded is very personal. Recovery is a steep climb for every one – a hike up a hill for some and a mountain climb for others. All we can do is take it a day at a time, experiencing progress in some areas and setbacks in others.

There are incredible support systems with people who are happy to share information. While our families step in to provide immeasurable support, we also benefit from one another. There are amazing communities of people in local support groups, on Facebook, and in forums that have a unique sense of humor and compassion. We have learned to laugh at life even as we are in pain. We can make jokes about the awkwardness of not hearing many things. We share tips for keeping a dry eye healthy or a compromised balance system functioning.

What I learned as I’ve healed is that, as in anything, the future “you” is still undefined. Recovery takes time and patience. We are in a society that expects instant results. I expect instant results. Instead I’ve frequently felt like a human pin cushion. I’ve had more needles in me in the past five years than a porcupine has twills. Through it all though, I’ve connected with family and friends in ways that I otherwise would not have.

It is my journey of LIFE, but I’ve got great company.

Traumatic Brain Injury – Invisible Disability

 

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Brain surgery was the easy part. I slept through it. The moment I woke in incredible pain is when got difficult. Despite the intricate skills of two brain surgeons, I was now suffering from a Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI). I didn’t recognize at the time that I was entering the “in-between.” I was stuck between who I had been and someone I didn’t know yet.

Brain surgery left me with the recognition that I’m not who I used to be. I do know that I am far from alone. TBI effects brain tumor patients, accident victims, and soldiers fighting for our country.  With advances in the medical community, more people are surviving traumatic medical events than ever before.  A mystery to the medical field, TBI leaves many unanswered questions.

I struggle with my desire to deny disability’s grasp on my life while continually having to adapt to its grip. Chronic, oppressive head pain is disabling, but it can’t be seen – or proven. Navigating the “in-between” is a new reality.  I am fortunate to have my mental faculties, but am exhausted by head pain, hearing issues, and facial therapy. Yes, exhausted by the extra effort my brain requires to sort desired from undesired sensory input.

Adrenaline gets us through what we need to live but then our brains demand down time.My “Job” is now seeking answers, treatment, and relief. Everyone has their own journey through the forest of the unknown.

Once trauma happens to the brain, remnants cling for years or life. However, it needs to be noted that “living with TBI” includes the word “living.” I had heard there would be a “new me” but I wasn’t done with the old one. In pursuit of contentment, I eventually accepted that the old me was gone and acknowledged the new one. To my surprise, I found joy. I wish I had known before I fought change so hard that there are things to cling to and others to let go of. I wish I had known to accept, grow, and live. For me it was the loss of a career yet the gain of writing. The loss of speed yet the advantage of measured observation.

The experience of having an Acoustic Neuroma(AN) and resulting traumatic brain injury is very individual even as we seek camaraderie with others.  Common threads that I’ve seen in AN people are the choice of life, a decision to share humor, and nonstop perseverance. That strong common thread compels us to move forward without being dragged back any more than we have to be.  We continue to laugh and love.  Even in this new dimension.