Subarachnoid-What-Now?

Several weeks ago, Dad was at the Emergency Room and the rest of us paced the waiting room.

Mom called us at home and said the test results came back and they were told that the reaosn for Dad's headaches was because he had an anuerysm.

"I knew it! I knew it!" I cried. So, not exactly the best time to be proud you are right.

Hours and hours go by, the usual crowd of family and friends arrive. Shawn and I anxiously scramble to pick up stuff from my parents house in case they have to stay overnight. We happy to just get away from the hospital. It's covered with germs you know.

And flat screen plasma TVs apparently. They have moved the ER to a brand new building. Scott & White hospistal looks like Austin TX 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. It's always under constrcution and you can never find anything.

Anyway, I found it very interesting that this newly built ER only held 40 beds--not nerely enough in a growing city of 70,000+ and yet, they had enough in the budget for a flat screen TV in every room, and several in the waiting room. Suggested retail price? Oh, about $900 each, but you buy in bulk, you could probably get it down to around $500.

"I bet my heart surgery paid for a few of those TVs," mu brother-in-law said.
"Yeah, I had about $400 on a bladder infection and that was the cost after my insurance paid," I scoffed. Scott & White charges $500 a month for the family medical insurance plan. And what, it's going to Sony TVs?

So they send Dad home, will run more tests later.

The next day, a Monday, Dad's back with excrutiating pain in his head. I talk to Mom via cell phones and she declares that no one is to come the hospital to Sit & Wait. Shawn and I argue about whether they are hungry or not. I say, they are probably tired and wouldn't want to eat. Around 9pm, Shawn, my loving, adoring husband of 6 years drives to McDonald's, remembers that Mom likes the chicken wraps and drives all the way to the hospital with McDonald's bag in hand.

Naturally, because of traffic, the food was cold by the time he arrived. Dad nibbled a french fry...he ate another...then he tore into the burger. Mom later said it was the best McDonald's they'd ever had and that Shawn was the best son-in-law they'd ever had!

Shawn never even thinks of putting himself before others. It just doesn't seem to enter his mind!

Around 10pm, Mom and Dad are sent home. My head is bobbing and I am fighting to saty awake to hear from Shawn. Knowing I have to get up around 4 am, I pry my eyelids open and watch the idiot box (TV, duh) until he arrives.

Now they say it's not an anuerysm, but rather a genetic defect which creates--I'll use lamen's terms here--like a film around the brain.

I'll not bother you with details and instead tell you that Dad went to his regular doctor for more tests on that following Tuesday. What we were told was this:

Dad had a Veinous Nonanuerysmal subarachnoid Hemorrage

Ok image the blood veins and vessles in your head are like a tree. When the thickest branch breaks--that's an anuerysm--or you can think of like an artery bursting inside your brain.

When the smallest of twigs on that branch breaks it's called...what I said up there. That mile-long word.

It's so rare that only a percentage of 1% of the world's population get it. And trust me--I dug for hours on the internet and came up empty handed. Dad's doctor was excited! She said it's not even mentioned in medical text books and wanted to submit a paper on Dad's rare anomoly.

There you have it. Oh, and Dad's alright. There was a tiny bit of blood on the brain--that's what caused the headache. It went away in about a week and the tiny vein healed itself. We all sighed a huge sigh of relief.

Dad has a 10 times higher risk of having a stroke because of the broken vein so he has to watch his blood preassure. Thank the Almighty God he quit smoking this past January.

Of course with Dad in the hospital that first day, Mom started again. "If one of you doesn't give me a cigarette I'm going to get in my truck and drive across the street and buy some!!!!" she cried.

About 12 cigarettes and 7 lighters shot out of pockets all at once. No one wanted her to drive in this condition and everyone knew she would.

No one wanted Mom to start smoking again, but we all thought of the poor driver she might run into crossing the street. We certainly didn't want that, now.