I'll try and explain it to you, but I wont do it justice.
Our dad had five hour brain surgery to remove a "mass" the size of a golf ball that was pushing on his frontal lobe. The hope was that the mass was an infection - a couple months of heavy antibiotics and done deal - and not cancer. I guess the moment you cut into the mass you know whether it is a tumor or an infection because if its an infection, puss will start pouring out (what a pleasant vision). So our mom said that the surgeon will know within the first hour what it is.
Since she knew the doctor well, she assumed that he would relay the good news of an infection once discovered. But since we never got notification, we assumed the worse: brain cancer.
While trying to stay optimistic throughout the surgery, I was also trying to stay sane and not throw up. The waiting room attendant came over and said that "they are closing him up and the doctor should be out in 45 minutes". 90 minutes later I don't know how many times I went to the bathroom hoping to get rid of the terrible feeling inside me to no avail. The fact that the doctor was suppose to be out an hour ago created a cloud of pessimism over us. I can't put into words the thoughts that were going through my mind, I imagine that my mom and Jillian (who was the only other person in the waiting room) could either.
The doctor finally came out and I think I stopped breathing. He said there were no complications, that they removed about 90% of the large mass. He also shared some pretty nasty details. My favorite, of course, was that fact that when they opened the skull flap, brain juice shot out of his head due to the release of all the pressure that was previously on the brain. I think I just threw up in my mouth.
While the news was a relief because there were no complications (stroke, unable to extract, etc.), it was also confirmed: our dad had brain cancer. Now, the question is what kind? Did it spread from somewhere (pancreatic, melanoma) or did it originate in the brain (glioblastoma)? How bad is it?
The good news, two hours after surgery a nurse came in to check his vitals - this includes asking him questions like "do you know where you are? whats your name?". The nurse proceeded to ask him "do you know what you did today?". My dad responds "I had sex, of course!". Obviously, certain parts of his brain are functioning just fine, even two hours after brain surgery.
After lots of research and consulting with many friends and colleagues, my dad is fortunate enough to have Dr. Timothy Cloughesy, Director of Neuro-Oncology at UCLA, as his lead doctor during this battle.
