Recovery update: Tired

Shade’s friend Cody came over yesterday to hang with him for a bit. They did the regular post-brain-surgery boy stuff. You know, noogies, wrestling, roundhouse kicks to the head. Okay, maybe they just sat in his room and talked. He enjoyed it, but it also wiped him out. By six p.m. he had passed out on the couch.

Today he’s been really feeling the effects of the Gamma Knife rabbit punch to the brain stem. He’s been lethargic and very sensitive to light and noise. He spent all day lying in his brother’s room with the curtains drawn. (Mayan’s room is darker.) He’s also been dealing with a nasty throbbing headache. This might be from the swelling in his brain, or it may be from the four clamps that were screwed into his skull to hold the Gamma Knife helmet in place. (Can’t have a wobbly helmet during brain surgery.) The skin around the clamp areas is very sensitive, and he doesn’t like even a soft pillow touching the areas. Aitza’s had to do some creative pillow arranging so he can rest.

We’re going to keep him out of school for a bit until he’s feeling a bit more energetic and clear headed. He was supposed to have midterms but his noggin couldn’t handle that right now. Just like a high-school boy. He’ll do anything to get out of a test.

 

Finding Focus

The explosion that erupted in Shade’s skull over three years ago knocked out his focusing ability. Shade has the attention span of a pyromaniac in a candle shop. Ooh, all the pretty lights.

Though his intelligence centers were not damaged by his stroke, short-term memory and focus did not fare so well. The MRI looks like someone tap-danced in those areas with golf spikes.

Thus, Shade’s school work suffers. He lags in class because he’s incapable of trudging up Homework Mountain without a study Sherpa to carry him. For example, he’s way behind in American Government class. Getting him to read the Articles of Confederation is like getting a Chihuahua to, well, read the Articles of Confederation. They’re both preoccupied with yapping at cats. (Shade’s cat fetish has not waned.)

So for every single homework assignment, someone has to sit and read with him, and explain with him, and write a little. Then read again, and

Shade getting study help from big brother, Edwin, and little brother, Mayan.

explain with him again, and write a little. Often it’s Mami. Sometimes Dad. This week it was big sister, Arianny, who’s in town for a week. It’s exhausting for Shade and for the Study Sherpa. It takes ages.

Shade’s not dumb. He gets the ideas. But then forgets them. And then gets them again. And forgets them again. Partly because he suffers short-term memory loss. Partly because he can’t pay attention long enough to transfer info to his long-term memory.

School demands focus if he’s going to acquire enough knowledge to have a career. A career demands focus if he’s going to keep his job.

How is Shade going to perform brain surgery if he can’t focus on the brainy bits? That’s a career tragedy waiting to happen: “Now, we just need a micro-incision right here in the meninges and … Hey, look at that beepy machine over there. Oops.”

So we’re trying something new. Shade’s neurologist, Dr. Kojic, has prescribed him Vyvanse, a drug often used to treat ADHD. (Back in my day, they didn’t have ADHD. They just called it fidgeting.)

This is a new edition of Shade’s Progress. The Focused Shade edition. Tomorrow morning (Thursday, October 2), Shade will take his first Vyvanse and we’ll see if he can switch from Dog Chasing Squirrel mode to Laser Beam Focus mode. We invite you to join the journey.