Loss of Book

Dear Fellow Readers,

   The book I promised you was blown away with my own hand. I apologize.  I get into these staring fits, and whoops, something happens you would rather not. They are just a part of the overall problem, and I think that, by now, you know me well enough to choke on me.

    That's an awfully big pill for me to swallow, but I enjoy the challenge. 

                                                                  Hoping the New Year Brings Creativity,

                                                                                          Ben Jones

Learning to Compensate

  That's it folks, I am going slowly blind in my right eye. Any surgery runs the risk of turning me into a drooling infant. Dr. Jorie a doctor/professor allowed two students in and had them answer some basic problems why a bleed would again come from the Pons part of my brain. In fact, they're coming from all over, and their target: my right eye. So that's why  I'm wearing an eyepatch on my eye. Remember, you heard it U/H Opthamology lab first.

Well, This Getting Old

   Weeeellll, it goes this fine fashion for me, brain surgery wise. Twice now, I've lain around the hospital for a week, despite the countless weeks in the Neuro Unit where they won't let you have your  seizure medications, or a reduced portion of same.
   As many of you know, brain sugery is an option where no other exists. My first brain surgery was partially succesful. It seems It takes rehab, either in-house or out to combat the effects of that surgeries. This includes paralysis of half the body, or the surgery could be totally sucessfull.
   As for me I have to my credit: 5 brain surgeries, 5 rounds of re-hab, and a stroke over 24 years and 21,000 seizures. I had my last brain surgery four months ago.... It was conducted by Amerca's No 2 neurologisist, who pronounced me as 'an enigma, inside a box, stuffed inside a brain.,'  Nah, but he sure was thinking it as he opperated on me. And it was back to being ol' stubborn, ultra -funny German- Scotch/Irish that is "me."

I've Got A Ranch Named For Me!

Just found out that my surgery is tomorrow, but not the surgery ya'll.might think I'm getting. Alas, I'm going back into the EMU Third floor in the Jones Pavillion... Again. The only thing that is different is first off, there is a little surgery they're going to have to preform. And that involves flexineedles that tell more precisely the frontal lobe where my seizures are since they do not appear exclusively in left frontaf lobe alone. It will tell my surgeons where to cut.
It's me Zipperhead, just cut down the stiches.

WADA Test

I have finally, finally, just been through the WADA test, and I was conscious for all of it. I can't tell you how painful that was before a general anestedic was administered through one of my femoral veins. It was my job to remember what my neurologist (short time) had shown me. So before I left the room, he walked me through the test and he showed me a list of things, cleared them off, put them with others, and asked me which ones I had seen before.
   So I'm finally in surgery (and it isn't pretty in the surgery room, conscious) with a makeshift view screener and someone working on my groin with a razor since I'm part Bigfoot, and an Oriental Rug. Now imagine, if you will, a tube going right into your femoral artery (Ouch!!!) then proceeding up your artery (Grrrrr!!!) That's about when the pain killer kicks in for say-oh 30 seconds (Ahhh!!!) And then the neuro-doc steps in. 'Do you remember the objects that were presented in (your) room?' I nailed it!  Then it was over. The live procedure was over.
    You could not find a happier patient with seizures or w/o seizures than I. I was wheeled in my bed to my room in the EMU Rm 2. and promptly crashed