Giant Cell Arteritis

I like to call Grandma when I get on the train home to give her a heads up and let her know I'm on my way.  Give her time to hide her scotch and any other paraphernalia.  When I called her yesterday to let her know I was going to be home early she told me she was having surgery TODAY and that I had to drive her.  Oki doki.  Sure thing.  No problemo.  What surgery would that be, Grandma?

She's been having trouble seeing out of her left eye since she had a cataract removed a few weeks ago.  When this first occurred she was fairly upbeat about it, but it's been a while and her polyanna-ing has pretty much disappeared.  It's gotten to the point where she'll call up doctors and yell at them over the phone.  Feisty Grandma!  Anyway, after some blood work and some steroid therapy one of her doctors decided to order a surgical procedure, then thought about it some more, and gave it "emergency status" and so that's what I did with my Saturday morning.

The procedure is a run-of-the-mill biopsy and involves removing a portion of the temporal artery on one side or the other, these samples are then examined for damage.  The damaged arteries can have serious consequences, including stroke and worsened vision difficulty.  The doctors are trying to rule out the possibility that this blindness could spread to the other eye.  Not fun.

Grandma is really good at the whole hospital thing, she's totally a pro, but even today she looked tense and uncomfortable.  I know she's been sweating her upcoming drivers test (Illinois drivers over the age of 85 have to re-test every year in order to keep their driving privileges) and specifically timed her cataract surgery to optimize her chances when her test date arrives.  She's more nervous than the average 16 year old, and this optical complication was not on her schedule.  And while the thought of losing her motorized independence weighs heavy on her, the larger implications of this medical hiccup have not escaped her either.

Once they finally took her back and got things underway, the surgery was only supposed to take about 40-80 minutes.  Three hours later Dr Kae comes out and tells us there was a little "surprise" as he began to operate.  Two little scars were found right around Grandma's temples.  Two little telltale signs.  Two little white lies.  Two little bits of evidence: all that remains of a FACE LIFT from 1981!!  I was blown away!  Grandma had a FACE LIFT!?!?!?  Who gets a face lift???  Uncle Bob and Aunt Kari gasped and smacked their heads: Duh!  Mom, over the phone, had a similar reaction.  NOBODY thought about this.  It was a problem because of scar tissue, and due to the lift nothing is where it's supposed to be under the skin.  Dr Kae just had to use a little more surgical finesse to find those pesky little arteries!  It won't skew the results of the test, it just means we'll have to wait longer for the results themselves (and it makes you rethink whatever thoughts you might have ever thunk about getting elective surgery...)

We walked out the door at 3:00pm, Grandma blowing kisses and thanking the nurses for their love (thank you, anesthesia!)  Now she's slurping a bowl of fruity jell-o and dozing.  Jeez oh man.  Never a dull moment!