Posted on November 16, 2013
It was a typical Wednesday morning until I received that call. About 10:43am my iPhone rang. It was my mother calling to notify me that that my father had to stay at the hospital and have a neurosurgery consult.
I was instantly shocked with disbelief as my father is as healthy as a horse. He’s 69 years old but he’s the kind of man that hasn’t slowed despite having been retired since 65. It turns out my father had been having some slight headaches on the right side of his head for the last few months and he really didn’t think much of them.
As a family, we were all going through a trying time as my uncle, my father’s younger brother, had been battling cancer for about a year already and he simply attributed the headaches to stress. But my mother, always one to be top of things had requested a doctor’s appointment so that my father would go and get an MRI. To the surprise of everyone, the radiologist that interpreted the MRI said my father couldn’t go home and he must go see Neurosurgery immediately. My father had been diagnosed with a “subdural hematoma”.
I suppose we need to define subdural hematoma. A subdural hematoma is bleeding between the space that divides the cranium and the actual brain.
And thus began our two week odyssey with my father’s surgery. The neurosurgeon had determined that my father needed surgery as soon as possible because the bleeding had actually displaced the brain from its usual postion (midline shift) and the only treatment possible at this juncture of the trauma was brain surgery. What you see below is my visual story as I documented the whole event.