Wednesday, September 24, 2014

The Post Surgery Update

So, where to begin.  First, let me apologize for any typos and what not.  I’m groggy and slightly medicated.  Let me start with the good news. I, of course was right.  The surgery was a breeze and the weeks of anxiety were just pointless. 

I couldn’t be happier with the incredible team at both the Invision Brain and Spine Center as well as Kenmore Mercy Hospital.  My neurosurgeon Dr. Micheal Landi followed our plan as anticipated.  I wish I could fully explain the amazing care and comfort I have felt from him and his staff.  His team was amazing.  Everyone from the anesthesiologist, PA’s and the entire surgical/recovery was warm, professional and remarkable.  I couldn’t have been in better hands.  The nurses in the ICU as well as my regular nursing staff have been so accommodating.  I am so glad that I listened to my instinct and went with the team I felt was right for me.  He was the third neurosurgeon I met and I instantly knew he was my guy.

My pain level has been minimal.  Not sure if that the result of excellent pain management or just my own high tolerance for pain.  A nice cocktail of morphine and valium helped me through the first 24 hours.  My upper neck is still sore and the now lack of morphine has left me itchy, but the pain is minimal.  I have had some increase in the numbness on my left side.  My hand is actually the same, but there is now a numbness in my left foot that wasn’t there prior to surgery. This is merely a reaction to swelling and I am actually able to walk and hobble around on it.  My balance is slightly wonky, but I am able to walk without assistance. All great things!

Now, that’s the 100% positive news.  Unfortunately, not everything had gone exactly as we had hoped.  Since the mass was inside my spinal column and the MRI can only reveal so much, until we were able to actually get inside the spinal column, it was all guessing.  No one knew exactly what we would find. To be blunt, we didn’t get the results we wanted.  We had hoped the mass would be an ependymoma, a type of encapsulated tumor of the central nervous system that is easy to remove.  Unfortunately, I just don’t do normal. 

The initial pathology revealed that my mass is an astrocytoma –a rare tumor of the cells inside the spinal column. This type of tumor is generally found in the brain but can form inside the spinal cord, which is of course rare.  That probably explains why the mass is so high in my cervical spine. Presentation of these types of tumors in women is rare as they are often found more common in children and men.  Astrocytomas are graded from low to high grade.  Using the word cancer is scary, but the bottom line is that until the term low grade benign tumor is stamped across my pathology report, I have to accept the possibility that this process could result in some form of radiology and chemotherapy.  My functionality over the last several months gives up hope that it is in in fact a low grade benign tumor that will require minimal radiation treatment and I will go about my merry way.

Pathology results for these types of rare tumors don’t get turned around overnight.  So now, we wait, seven to ten days. I hate the waiting game.   Luckily, I have an amazing support team around me. To say that I’m not scared would be a lie. But, I feel more confident that I the most amazing team of doctors and medical professionals ready to heal me.
Beyond of all this, I must stay positive.  Despite the less than stellar news, I came out of an open spinal surgery with a little extra numbness in my foot.  There are a thousand other scenarios that could have happened and I have to be accept the ones presented to me.  Simply because this is the one that I have to tackle. Nothing before these moments matter.  Healing is about moving forward.  And that is all I can do.  Set my goals, move forward and know that I have the most amazing support network of friends, family, phamily, loved ones and an amazing fiancĂ©.  I don’t mention David enough through my blogs, but he is simply astounding.  His love, laughter, kindness, understanding and pure tenderness through some of the worst moments of my life have made me realize that I was truly blessed with the perfect soul mate. He’s snoring on a pull out chair next to my hospital bed as I type. I know that with him by my side I will get through this. I am also blessed that my mother has been able to take time off from her life to come help as well. I’m a lucky girl.

So now, we wait.  I wish I could just go back to work.  Sitting around, waiting for social programs to kick in, isn’t my style. But, anyone that knows me knows that I have plans for staying busy. Over the last few months, music has once again become a huge part of my life.  The talented boys from Aircraft have agreed to let me take over as their Booking/Promotion manager.  So while I’m sitting around my apartment watching Netflix, reading all those books I’ve been stacking on the shelf and getting clearance to return to work, I will at least have something amazing to focus on.  I’m tired of having a skill set and letting it hide behind that proverbial bushel.  Time to put it to some good use.

So my plan: heal, share me love, stay focused, embrace music, embrace myself, and continue to find my perfect path.  This has happened for a reason - 99% scientific, but that other 1% (how I choose to handle it) will define the rest of my future.  The worst part to me, the surgery, is over.  There is a probability that I will require another surgery, but we won’t know until the final pathology results come in. At this point, I am simply left with two options – fight and heal.  I’m taking both of them.  Thank you again for all the love, support and warmth.  My healing process has already been amazing because of the amazing energy sent my way. 

For more information on the giveforward medical fundraiser campaign started for me, click here https://www.giveforward.com/fundraiser/qn45/kat-horton-s-spinal-surgery-fund. Although I know it’s not anyone’s responsibility to help me cover medical expenses and cost of living expenses while I recover, I often feel that we ask for help once it’s too late. I have already received so many generous donations.  I am so grateful for the kindness. 
On that note, the valium is kicking in…time to get some more rest and absorb all the love vibing my way. 

Much Love,

Kat

Saturday, September 20, 2014

I love YOU!

Dear YOU, 

I have been contemplating writing this letter.  I was worried that I would write some long drawn out, sappy, tear soaked letter as my nerves get the best of me.  I feel like I have so much to say.  Let me start with this, for those of you who may not know or understand where this doomish sounding introduction.

On Monday morning, I report to Kenmore Mercy Hospital at 6am. About 4 months ago, an MRI revealed that I have s spinal tumor/mass inside my spinal cord that is resting on my spinal column and causing constant symptoms like numbness.  The surgery is 100% necessary to prevent further issues.  Without it, I will eventually be paralyzed.  With it, I run a 10% chance of paralysis or increased symptoms.  The odds are in my favor.  However, odd or no odds the FEAR is gripping.

Very simply, I love my life.  My biggest fear is that it won’t be the same after the surgery.  And on the off chance that something changes, I feel like I need to say something to everyone that I’ve ever come into contact with. That, is obviously, an impossible tasks.  But, I can at least say what’s in my heart and hope that on the other side of my surgery, my life will continue on its current path, rendering this whole letter totally unnecessary.

It goes without saying that if you are reading this, you care.  So thank you. I have tried to live my life by treating others as I would like to be treated.  This is a hard task.  As a woman (and even just as a human), it’s hard to not into give in societal habits like talking ill of others or being self-invested.  It’s often hard to give of yourself, even when you don’t have much, simply for the joy it brings to someone else.  I hope that each and every one of you have at least one memory of me that makes you smile.  If I made you laugh, that warms my heart. 

If I looked at my life as a movie, it has been a blockbuster. I have been so blessed to have an amazing ensemble of characters in my life, all perfectly casted at the right moments. It has been sound tracked by amazing music. It’s been full of wonderful dance scenes, great comedy and award winning drama. And I have been blessed to feel that I now understand that energy and spirit that has been in charge of writing the script along the way. 

In short, I am at peace.  That may sound dramatic but it shouldn’t be surprising for me to do anything without a flare of drama.  However, this surgery is serious and it is not without serious risk.  And even though my heart, spirit and soul feel at peace with it, I am still scared.  I am allowing doctors and medical professionals to hold my life and body in their hands. It is the single scariest and most difficult moment of letting go I will ever experience.  

Combine that with the memories of watching my father struggle from his own paralyzation, and I can only suspect that most people understand where this is coming from.
I already know that the moments after I wake from surgery in recovery will be the scariest of my life.  The mental check list of making sure that I’m okay will be overwhelming.  I also feel confident that I will have a good laugh as I realize that I am okay. I will be so angry at myself over the wasted energy spent on hours of anxiety ridden thoughts. But I guess this is all part of the process, this experience. 

So in an attempt to not run long-winded, let me just say this.  If you are reading this, I love you.  Truly, I love you.  I love that you are a part of my life.  Because you have been in my life, you have brought me to this moment in some way.  And other than this very scary experience, my life is perfect. Without you, I wouldn’t be where I am and I couldn’t imagine being in a place that is more wonderful than now. So thank you.  From the depths of my heart.  Thank you for your love, support, friendship, honesty and laughter.  I owe you one!

Much Love,

Kat

Not a post script – but….

I also want to thank my friends that have no graciously set up and donated to my giveforward campaign.  I was asked to post that information again.

You can find out about it here. 


I really haven’t done much to personally tell my friends and family about the fundraiser.  Although I have health insurance, I do have concerns over just basic bills, after insurance medical bills and day to day expenses since I will be out of work for anywhere from 6 to 12 weeks.  I hate asking for help (especially money), and that is why I’m even hesitant to even put it here.   But after a long conversation with a dear friends today, I also recognize that I need help, so it’s out there in the universe.  And I am confident that I will have everything that I need as I need it. 

And with that, thank you.  I love you! Tell the people that you love, that you love them.  Do something special to make someone else smile.  Be kind to each other.  Encourage someone to take a risk to make themselves greater.  Take your own risk to make yourself greater. Love yourself so that you can be loved by someone else.  Dance like no is watching.  Scratch that…dance like someone is watching. Sing. Find your light. Hug your mom.  Hug yourself.