So glad to hear you have some immediate improvement, I hope you get better and better!
Lauruffian, this is so good to read of your progress and improvement in your symptom!
For you, it must be such a relief!
Hoping for you, and your family, that you continue on the road to less symptoms (is recovery the right word as only the symptoms of Chiari can be treated? 
)
Please keep us posted on your progress!
Great news so far, and I am sending you good thoughts for continued improvement!
Rebecca
Woot!! Such a happy update. Jingling quietly for the maximum level of recovery and relief for you. And, thank you for more adorable pictures of your boys–they are so cute! Keep us posted, please.
Wonderful update! I’m so happy for you.
those are great shirts. -giggle-
Yay! Will keep jingling for a continued recovery.
Love the shirts! Your family seems pretty cool too!
P.
Hey everyone! Wanted to share with you–here’s my latest update, as shared on my GoFundMe (which I’m basically treating as my blog for this topic):
Well! Three weeks post op as of yesterday. And, also as of yesterday, I am officially medically retired and no longer an employee of Baldwin Park Unified School District. I’m a retired teacher.
Now, I am back home to life and its vibrant chaos, and I find I am struggling with a tremendous impatience (Who, ME?). I am now on the other side of this much-anticipated surgery after an excruciatingly long year of referrals, doctors, tests, results, confusion, and research pushed and ultimately strained my determined, obstinate nature to its limits.
Now, it is done, and remains inarguably the right thing to have done, but…now what?
I wait, and I rest, two things at which I have always been plain terrible.
As the travel and surgical dates neared, I became fearful of this time period–this time when I’d be briefly feeling worse than even before surgery–as my body recovered. I came home unable to drive, nonetheless grocery shop, take the boys to school (or pick them up), fiddle around the barn (nonetheless go for a trail ride or take Firefly for a drive), cook, sweep the floor, do laundry. What little independence I still clung to as my health slowly slipped backwards was gone, and though my logical side knew and knows it is temporary, it has proven a bit more psychologically traumatic than I anticipated. I know I will continue to get better–how much remains the great mystery–but in the interim, I wait.
For the record (and I see no shame or stigma in saying this), I started seeing a psychologist about three months ago. She has been a tremendous guide, helping me identify and contend with the many beasts beckoned by such severe, involuntary, life-altering change in so many (she suggests, all) aspects of my life, while also helping me recenter and think and deal with just today. Not tomorrow or six months from now or two years from now, just…today.
I am fortunate to have immediate positive results from this surgery, easing this struggle. The years-present hand tremors have disappeared since the day after the surgery, and the skull-crushing headaches that were becoming more and more frequent also remain absent. Once or twice, a bit of laughter that normally triggered hours to days-long pain seemed to start up one of the headaches; there was this familiar pulling, slightly pressured feeling. The pain hovered at about a 4, but then instead of building, and building, and building over the next few hours before locking me in agony for up to three days, they faded in under an hour. They just…went away.
I cling to that when my patience to BE ALL BETTER NOW is stamping its foot loudly, though admittedly oftentimes the impatience is louder than my logical counterarguments. I have been gently, lovingly reminded by so many of you that I have had major surgery; parts of my brain and skull were permanently removed, fercryinoutloud, and I was in the hospital for five days. My mind may be fresh, but my body endured a massive trauma (however planned and masterfully administered). That I’m weak, wobbly, and easily exhausted is to be expected and even embraced. (Ugh, just typing that makes me bristle.)
So, I take a deep breath, and I contend with today. I thank my friends for rides, meals, help with the horses, help with the boys. I rest when my body demands–mainly because its demands are REALLY loud right now and impossible to ignore. I also cry when I need to, wipe my face, rest in Brian’s arms, cuddle with my boys, and sing along to music that lifts my soul, no matter what the music critic in me says about the artist or the song.
This is only three weeks post op, and it will be a full year–49 more weeks–before I see the full benefit. The only way to get there is one day at a time.
And today, I had the strength and clarity of thought to write this. Tomorrow? Well, tomorrow is not today. I’ll deal with it, live it, when it comes.
Much love, appreciation, and gratitude to and for all of you.
I did manage to drive myself to the horses for the first time the other day–took me a good three weeks to be able to drive and then be stable enough on the ground with the cane to navigate the uneven ground. Spent most of my time resting in a chair watching them mow down the greenery, but with the help from the guy who feeds for us, I haltered Tril and tied him to check and put ointment on a minor boo boo (this is how he’s like my sons: “What’s that? What did you do to yourself THIS time?”). Just a good scraping on a hind leg with minor swellig, like he’d caught it on something or kicked something getting up from a roll. Then I brushed the easiest parts of him to reach, gave him goodies, and put him back. Felt good to do even this little–felt like ME.
I was too tired at this point to do anything but send Firefly back to her stall (she actually knows the command “Go home” ) and spoil her with goodies too, but she’ll get some loving hopefully tomorrow morning if I’m up to it.
I found this view much more comforting than the walls of my house.
((hugs)) and tears of joy for you and your new life ~ Bravo !
[B]
Wonderful update ~
((hugs)) and tears of JOY for you & your new life !
Jingles & AO laced with an extra measure of patience !!!
Thrilled for you ~ Bravo !!![/B]
Wow. You are brave, and great! Love how you are doing so well! And those horses - so dang healing just to go see them!
[QUOTE=Lauruffian;7996902]
I found this view much more comforting than the walls of my house. :)[/QUOTE]
mmmmmm salad.
Wonderful update!
Thank you for writing this terrific update.
Thank you everyone. Today was amazing. I felt…bright. Alert. Energized. LET’S GO DO STUFF! UP AND AT THEM! It’s like I’ve spent the last few years living life looking through dirty windows.
I went to the barn, and my mind was like…LET’S DO ALL THE HORSEY THINGS EVER! Of course, my eyes are muccchhh bigger than my plate in this regard right now, but I slowly was able to do a few things. Heh, understand that each comma in the following lists represents a minimum of a 15min rest period inbetween (and in the case of watching them graze, an hour): I let them out to mow down the mallow while I sat and rested in a chair, then tied Tril to pick his feet (!! big accomplishment!) and put on splint boots before turning him out, then repeated with little fuzzball mini Firefly, and then–after a good rest–actually got in the ring with the lunge whip and got them to gallop around a little bit. It was good for me; I was walking without my cane, and man watching them play just recharges my soul. I only walked around in the ring with them for maybe 5min, but they had fun, and I did too. Then I went to a bench and rested a good long while before bringing them back in, one at a time, to lightly groom them and put them back.
I made this brief video so I could enjoy them over and over the rest of the day. My body demanded I rest and be couchbound after this eventful morning, but man, they made it easier.
Congratulations! Sending you best wishes for continued success with your recovery which will lead to more and more horsey time!
Thank you so much for keeping us all updated! Much appreciated! So glad to hear your terrific attitude and how great your recovery is going!
Yay! And Firefly is so stinkin’ cute! Looks like the horses had a wonderful time. I would be happy watching that, too.
Rebecca
I hope you’re continuing to feel better every day, Laura. Please keep us updated!
SillyHorse, thank you for checking in! I actually learned some interesting new details since receiving my surgical report. It showed there was even more going on than the MRI showed, which I guess isn’t too unusual.
The report said the arachnoid membrane (membrane layer below the dura mater, where CSF is housed–well, technically the subarachoid space just below it) had areas of opacity and also said this: “Numerous adhesions to the cerebellar tonsils were cut sharply…Other arachnoidal adhesions of the tonsils to both the posterior-inferior cerebellar arteries, the dorsal brain stem, and the upper cervical spinal cord were dissected and divided sharply.”
Now, when I read that, I somewhat assumed “adhesion” meant some sort of normal connective tissue that had to be severed during the decompression and tonsillectomy. Turns out, uh, nope. A quick search resulted in scores of medical-vernacular-dense websites describing the occurrence of adhesions specifically in situations of significant cranial compression.
It took a lot of reading, parsing, looking up terms, and then verifying on other sites, but the gist is adhesions are somewhat akin to scar tissue (actually, one site described it as such) that can form on the anatomy in the area due to extended periods of cranial compression.
The best description probably comes from, appropriately enough, a textbook called “Craniovertebral Junction: Diagnosis–Pathology–Surgical Techniques”: “The effect of chronic severe foramen magnum [opening of the skull] impaction by the cerebellar tonsils is the formation of arachnoidal adhesions, which may be the primary pathological focus. The adhesions may be quite pervasive, involving the brainstem [in my case and as you see quoted in my report above, yes], posteriointeferior cerebellar artery [yes], and spinal cord [yes]. Microlysis of the adhesions is an important part of the internal decompression.”
Basically, everything was so compressed for so long (uh, 41+ years), it sort of started growing together. This explains what was going on with me even more. Here I am, post freakin’ brain surgery, and I’m still relieved to see MORE black and white evidence that something was very wrong with my brain. (Well, brain, arachnoid membrane, spinal cord…)
Oh, and incidentally, the arachnoid membrane is called that because of its resemblance to a spider’s web.
Oh! And the surgical report referred to using a Mayfield frame to secure my skull during the procedure. Wanna see this lovely instrument of tortu–I mean, surgical assistance? Enjoy. You can see why I had three very, VERY tender areas on my scalp after. (Like, barely brushing it had me YOUCH!)
And now, I would like to thank my 5yro for waiting until the 5 week post op mark to get sick. I can stay home with him and just be his mommy. I’ve been able to make him mac and cheese, play ball in the backyard with him, practice his letters and sounds with him, and otherwise more or less keep up with a 5yro who’s almost completely unaware of his fever and cough. Almost. Team Umizoomi and an extra long naptime due to both illness and medication ensure I get my rest as well.
I’m able to do a bit more and groomed and even round penned both horses today. My aim is to take Firefly for my first post-operative drive next week, at the 6 week mark. I really want to ride, but know I’m quite a bit further away from that at this point in time.
The key thing is one day at a time…which I’m really bad at. 
So for now, I watch Tril
and join him only in spirit. For now. 
Fantastic!!!
