The next post in the series of the story is surgery day, and today has not at all supplied me with the time I need to actually write that out well. So rather, I interrupt our usual programming to let you know, in case you don’t, that Brady is home with us 💜
*whispers* and he has been since Sunday afternoon.
I kind of started telling the whole story before I realized I hadn’t updated that he had come home, but he did! On his third day post-op, he was cleared of any risk factors via MRI and sent home. It was quick and surprising, and we didn’t question it!
We had the pleasure of getting home to an empty, peaceful house. My mom and Rae had taken the kids off to watch some curling and get a change of scenery, so Brady and I sat cozy in the living room and took some deep breaths.
In some ways, we have some normalcy. And in other ways, the entire thing is still totally surreal.
Brain surgery was one week ago. One. Like. Last week, someone cut his head open…
Speaking of that, I’d like to show some pictures from the day of and into recovery. Some might have IVs, or blood, or stitches. Can everyone hack it? I guess I’m not really asking for permission. Just a warning that the next couple will be a touch more graphic if you don’t prefer any blood or yuck. Everyones ick factor is different, and I don’t think my husband is icky. But if you might think his surgery is, I suggest skipping the next couple of posts 💜 No harm no foul.
Happy Easter break, everyone 💜 Take a deep breath and put your feet up if possible. Rest.
Brady here! Do you want to know the most difficult thing for ME to deal with through all of this brain tumour/seizure stuff? The medical suspension of my driver’s licence.
And I have friend’s who can attest, that is one of the hardest things to work around when dealing with unknown brain issues such as seizures/fainting spells.
So the on call doctor in the ER the night that I had my one and only seizure was legally required to put a medical suspension on my licence which is standard practice. I totally understood why. It just sucks to lose that independence.
Since January 27th I have needed rides to and from work for every single day that I went to work, went to doctors appointments, MRIs, out for lunch, etc. It’s not ideal. But i’m also surrounded by many, many, handfuls of people who have shuttled me around and enjoyed taking that time to drive me where I need to go. Its not lost on me how much support I have around me and I appreciate each and everyone one of you. Thank you!
I am very much looking forward to having the medical suspension lifted at some point in the near future. It will be at the discrepancy of my Neurosurgeon provided I don’t have anymore seizures or neurological episodes for the next 3 months or so.
I think many of you can understand how losing the independence of being able to drive myself around would be a loss. The more obvious loss is not being able to drive to work or to my appointments, etc. But I want to point out that I also can’t jump in the van and drive to run errands either. We’re out of milk, need to fill up/wash the van, kid needs a ride to a friends house… each and every one of those tasks have been falling on Hailey or someone outside our household for 2 months now, and will continue to do so for another few months. Those little tasks really add up quick without realizing it.
Even just being able to jump in my van at lunch and drive across the parking lot at work to pick up a burger or a coffee is lost for the time being. The loss of independence is the HARDEST part. I’m sure you get that by now.
But I am continuing to take the anti-seizure meds that I was prescribed 2 months ago in efforts to keep all neuro-based issues at bay. The meds I’m on definitely have some side effects that I don’t prefer but I’m doing my best to deal with them in stride so I can be in the best position possible for my neurosurgeon to go to bat for me.
I thank each and every one of you who have offered and have followed through with giving me rides too and fro. And thank you most of all to my amazing wife who steps in every time she’s asked (or not asked) and makes things happen regardless of my (albeit short-term) inability to make these things happen.
Welp, I think that’s all she wrote. Thanks for listening to my woes for a moment!
Towards the end of January, the 27th to be exact, I asked Brady if he wouldn’t mind me taking a bit of a break for the evening and just hiding out in our room for a bit. I hadn’t asked for one in a while considering we had JUST moved into our new home on the 13th, but I was feeling pretty impatient and ready for some letdown. He very willingly gave me the freedom to take a break, as he always has 💜 I went to our room, but it was still pretty loud, considering our room is a lot closer to the rest of the house than it used to be. I finally barricaded myself in our en suite to make a phone call.
After a while, I heard Brady come into our room. He had the morsel with him and I could hear him doing some bedtime stuff. I heard him growling at the morsel, as you do when you’re a parent with a morsel who growls. After a little bit of time, I heard other kids come into our room, which isn’t uncommon. Sometimes tucking babies in becomes a family affair, because they’re cute and fun and a great excuse to stay up longer.
At one point, a kid knocked on my door. Now, I love my children, but try as I might, they interrupt a LOT. Not great radars for that, try as I might to teach them otherwise. So when they know I’m on the phone and still interrupt, I tend to not respond, so they can hypothetically read the room. But the knocks persisted so I opened the door. There was Rowan, looking a little silly but perhaps a little unsure.
“Whats wrong with dad?”
“How so? What do you mean?”
“He’s laying on the ground and he won’t answer me. And his arm is red.”
It took about one second for me to end my call and get out of there, and there lay Brady on our bedroom floor, unresponsive.
Barf.
So everything I had learned in first aid went out the window for a second and I lifted his head. You’re not supposed to do that, but, c’est la vie, I did. He jolted awake and looked at me, very confused. It looked in his eyes like he didn’t recognize me. I spoke to him and called his name, and he fell back out of consciousness. I woke him back up and tried to ask him if he was ok. He would sort of nod or acknowledge me, but it was very slight and inconsistent. I asked him if he knew his name, and he nodded. I asked if he could say it and he nodded again. Lol! Twerp. So I instructed him to say it.
“Brladrly…”
It was NOT good.
So needless to say, I called 911, thinking he had a stroke.
The dispatcher was awesome, and worked quickly. Meanwhile, most of the kids had made their way up to our room, so it was absolutely bursting with activity. When the dispatcher said the first responders were coming, Rowan jumped up and went to unlock the front door and hit the lights. Laela just cried and cried and cried consistently, positively beside herself 💜 Poor girl.
While I waited for first responders and paramedics to arrive, I was actively trying to keep Brady awake. Which I’m pretty sure is wrong, but also I don’t think it hurt anything. I’d smack his cheek and he would jolt awake and look at me with surprise. I told him he scared me, and he would SO INNOCENTLY apologize! Knowing what I knew about his brain mass, I said to him “I think you’re going to have brain surgery.” His eyes grew huge and he exclaimed “WHY?!” Hahaha! It was a pretty cute moment in the midst of the chaos.
A beautiful thing about living in a small town where everybody knows everybody is that the first responders were ALL familiar. Oh the relief that came with seeing faces of people I already knew were truly invested in us. Nothing else quite like that. One of them came and eagerly whisked the kids away to the living room to read stories, hold babies, etc. They came armed with craft stuff and stuffies 💜 A solid way to their hearts for sure!
Brady was starting to come to a little bit more, and he answered the questions he could while I filled in the blanks. He couldn’t quite place the first responder he was talking to, but he easily recognized one of the others, and named her so sweetly and calmly. It was an oddly warm interaction even though it was so stinking scary. He passed all the right tests. No droop in his mouth. Strong voice. Decent recognition. Hand strength. All the things.
The paramedics were not far behind at all, and they were SO kind as well. They took his vitals and Brady was able to sit up a bit more. We went through memories, to see if he could remember the events leading up to falling down, which he could to a point. Likely to the point where he seized. It was pretty clear pretty quickly that it wasn’t a stroke but a seizure. Felt a bit less scary, but I still definitely super hated it.
With all of this, Brady hitched a ride in the ambulance to Saskatoon for the night. That was another first.
Our neighbour came over as soon as the ambulance left and sat with me and the kids while we talked through the whole experience, and then helped me get kids down. It was really lovely of her 💜
Brady ended up staying the night. He was back to himself, plus one new anti-seizure medication, and without his drivers license. Behold 🙌 the WORST part of this whole ordeal for Brady.
Good morning, friends! Today begins what I hope can be a week of posts informing you about all the steps leading up to this point, surgery day itself, and recovery thus far. I cannot promise, of course, because who knows what the week will hold and how we’ll fare. But! Thats the goal anyway! And I appreciate our friends who follow along and give us so much grace 💜
I’m going to start the week off with letting you know how we found out Brady had a mass in his brain, and how we managed some of that hardship.
Maybe you noticed, or maybe you didn’t, but I stopped updating everyone on Brady’s MRIs. The last one I talked about was MRI 10. It was clear, and we were content and kept on trucking!
MRI 11 came around in July of 2023, and it was Bradys annual top-to-bottom scan, rather than just of his spine. He went and had it done, and probably for the first time ever, we didn’t really even think about what the results were. We mostly forgot he had it done, and didn’t give it a second thought. Not only were we accustomed to easy, unremarkable results, but we had also began fostering maybe three-ish weeks prior, and our “easy” first placement had turned out to be pretty complex. Oh and we had recently listed our house for sale. Life was FULL.
But then Brady came home from work one day and texted me from the garage, asking me to come talk to him out there before he came into the house. He told me that our doctor had called on his drive home, and told him the results came back and they found a mass. We held each other and bawled in the garage, leaned up against the big freezer, our fears pouring out of our souls. It was a pretty brutal scene, to be honest. Immediate fears were obvious – Brady dying, and the ministry removing the morsel from our care. We cried and prayed, wiped our faces, and then as planned, we loaded up all six children and went to the city to buy shoes for school. Barf.
The appointments started shortly thereafter, with our family doctor, Bradys oncologist, neurosurgeon, as well as our insurance provider. It got pretty businessy for a bit there, while we tried to get real answers for things, have realistic expectations, and make any kind of plan that felt possible.
Bradys 11th MRI was followed by a 12th, 13th, 14th, and 15th as we kept an eye on things, roughly every 6-8 weeks. We knew we hated having that mass in there, but we also knew that no one wants to have brain surgery if they don’t need it. Our surgeon felt the exact same way. We were all happy to watch and wait for at least a little while. Over those months, absolutely nothing changed about the mass. Not in size or shape or even chemical compound. No part of the mass was ever meatier than the other, or thicker or thinner, or more or less vascular. It was just 🤷🏼♀️ there.
Which made it easier-ish to keep on looking forward. We didn’t want it to run our lives or hang a dark cloud anywhere it didn’t belong. So we told only our closest people, and then we kept on living!
It was a rough start to summer, but a beautiful season to follow.
For the rest of 2023, things were smooth, and with ongoing follow-up scans, nothing really changed.
I think it is pretty obvious that Hailey would not be writing a blog trying to promote her size as being a good suitor for new best friends. That would be pretty funny though. It’s me, Cher!
I just wanted to make some solid points about why having a thin best friend makes life better– for both of us.
First, parking!
When fitting into a parking space, Hailey is able to give me three times more room on my side than on her side. Don’t fear! It looks like she won’t be able to get out without sucking in and pivoting sideways, but she actually has extra room and she can use it to carry my fries!
Second, meals!
Have you ever shared a meal with someone who can’t finish? One person eats less than the other person in one sitting, and someone needs to help them, or it feels like a waste of money?? Well friends, Hailey CAN finish your sub for you even if she just finished a footlong with chips. Thank goodness for her!
I’m truly sorry I don’t have the gumption to write out long detailed posts of all the gritty details. I have goals, the timelines on those goals have just shifted a little.
Here are some small victories I can share with you about Brady in his recovery!
Yesterday, Brady was moved from an observation room into a much nicer room with fewer people and a bathroom. I think its still considered an observation to an extent, but no staff are posted in it. It seems like a middle ground between observation and standard patient care!
When he was moved, a few things happened. A PT/OT team came up to help him “try” to get into his wheelchair, which came very easy. They actually laughed and said he clearly doesn’t need them. They left thanking him for humouring them, lol! It felt good.
Also when Brady was moved, the decision was made to leave his IV unhooked. He had started to be allowed to drink liquids and they decided to trust him to stay hydrated enough on his own. And he has!
This morning, before I got to the hospital to see him, he told me they decided to remove his catheter. This is REALLY wonderful, because as you may or may not remember, bathroom stuff is somewhat different and a lot more vulnerable for paraplegics, and frankly, anyone with nerve damage. So the fact that Brady can manage his bathroom stuff makes it extra sucky when he isn’t really allowed to. So today, the catheter came out and the man could pee in a toilet again! Victory!!
My favorite one! Bradys brain drain is out!! That is SO wonderful, not only because it was super gross, haha! But also because it means all the active bleeding has stopped! Praise the Lord!!
Top three questions!
How is Brady doing? He’s pretty good. Very tired. He’s having to stay on top of his meds pretty closely to manage the headache, but he is managing it. He is feeling more himself each day.
Is it cancer? No one knows yet. Pathology is a few weeks out, and there will be follow up scans to see if they got it all or not.
When is he coming home? Probably not too far from now, honestly! The general belief is just a few days! Which seems a bit crazy, but if all thats left is resting up, who wouldn’t rather do that at home?! So. Hopefully early this next week 🤞
Today, while we visited, we sipped Tims coffee and ate some puffed wheat squares that our neighbour had baked for us 💜 We turned on a little Netflix and both ended up dozing off. It felt SO comfy and normal. Goodness I miss that man.
It is so late. I am so tired. Everyone in our corner over here is so so tired.
So is Brady 💜 He is tired, but he is alive and doing well.
I want to share more with you, but tonight is not the night. I am far too spent from the days events. But I can say is this. Brady is more awake and lucid today, and his pain is there but it’s managed. No surprises or scares during his surgery. His surgeon said, and I quote “it couldn’t have gone better.” That’s really what you want to hear post brain surgery.
As I said, I will share more tomorrow. First, I need to tuck in for the night, and hope that both of my babies are able/willing to sleep during the night. If you’ve already had prayers going up for us, if you could add sleeping to that list, I’d be very grateful. A certain little lemon drop does not love the nighttime as much as I do.
Thank you for your overwhelming support, friends 💜 More tomorrow.
After yesterday’s post, we are overwhelmed and humbled by the outpouring of love and support. Thank you, friends, for showing up for us time and time again 💜 Please believe me that we wouldn’t do any of this messy stuff if we could at all avoid it! 😅 It is fun for no one.
A few more things I can tell you about Bradys tumour are as follows.
The tumour can be found in Brady’s right temporal lobe. Right above his ear, we’re told.
It’s about 2cm in diameter. I want to say 2 cm squared, but its not a square, so that feels wrong. The size seems small, but when you look at it as almost an inch, and in his brain, not along his back, it feels larger.
It has not changed in the eight ish months we’ve known about it. Not even the chemical compounds that make it up have changed.
It is not behaving like a standard tumour. Every angle and every surface is exactly the same. No parks are thicker, thinner, more or less vascular, etc. So many unanswered questions we’re excited to have answered. Well. Excited is a strong word…
We named Bradys tumour Declan. But thats probably a story for another day.
That’s pretty much it for the little details. Shows just how much we don’t know about whats going on in there. But we will know soon.
Tomorrow Tumourrow is the starting point already. Brady will be admitted. He’ll begin fasting. He’ll have an MRS. Thats a fancy pants MRI that specifically zeros in on chemical compounds of masses. And he’ll start an infusion of a newer medication that claims to illuminate gliomas or other brain masses in a way that literally makes it glow under white surgical light!! This aids the surgeon in getting absolutely every last speck! Technology is so cool.
Unsurprisingly, I may throw a guest post up tomorrow. Cher lovingly wrote me a really cute one, and I’d like to be incredibly present tomorrow.
Meanwhile, please continue to carry us in prayer 💜 I know so many of you are already. The comfort in knowing I could call out for just about anything and know someone would come running brings huge peace to my heart. Meals start arriving on Friday, which is wild and SO appreciated. It is amazing to have so many willing, loving hearts around us. Thank you, all.
