Room 4, Surgery ICU, VA Hospital, Denver. It's official: Richard is missing a marble. Or at least a marble-sized tumor. This afternoon, his neurosurgery team removed a purple tumor the size of a large marble from the right temporal lobe of his brain. (Thank you, Dr. Brega and Dr. Ho, for your skill and care.) Dr. Brega was very pleased that they were able to remove the whole thing, it stayed intact as they removed it, and that the tumor was small and well-defined. ("Marble-sized is small?" I asked. "It could have been much larger," she replied. I'm glad I didn't know that beforehand.)
"I feel like I've been run over by a truck," he said when I arrived in his room. That's not surprising. He's got a sinuous incision shaped like a large question mark running along the upper right side of his skull and curving down in front of his right ear, held together with shiny stainless-steel staples. They cut through his skin, the temporal muscle (one of the ones you use when chewing), his skull (I'm alluded to my experience with the thickness of said bone structure in a previous post), the membrane covering his brain, and into his temporal lobe. He's attached by a plethora of wires, cords, and tubes to various blinking and beeping monitors and bags. No wonder he doesn't feel so hot.
But he's with us. He can move all of his limbs, talk, and he passes the basic neurological tests. I have faith that he'll recover—although it may take a while. His brain tissue is feeling a bit tortured, his membrane needs to seal up again, his skull has to grow a callus around the titanium plate and screws, his temporal muscle needs to knit together, and the red ridge of that question-mark-shaped incision needs time to subside to pink calligraphy decorating his elegantly shaped skull. But he will heal.
My mind keeps getting stuck on the coincidence of a tumor that is purple and the size of a large marble. The last big–by which I mean landscape-size–sculpture Richard finished this year is studded with small, round colored globes of glass. Yes, marbles. (The sculpture, shown above as he was installing it in an outdoor show, uses three "repurposed" historic building stones. The lower two are attached by hinges that appear to open as if a book; the third is balanced atop those two at an angle. That's the stone with the marbles. The sculpture, by the way, is called "Matriculation," and it's on display at Salida's SteamPlant Sculpture Park. That's a detail of Matriculation at the beginning of this post, plus another shot below.)
Purple tumors and marbles–what strange paths life takes us on!
Blessings and many, many thanks to all of you for your support. Know that I'm thinking of you, even if I'm not responding individually. My focus right now is on the guy who now is missing a marble–one we won't go looking for anytime soon.
Well, off hand, I like that it is purple because I like purple. I like that it is gone even more and that it was well encapsulated most of all. So so hard for both of you but so marvelous that Richard has real health care with competent caring professionals. I wondered if you could write haikus in the hospital or if you need nature for haiku… I got giddily amused thinking of all kinds of religious prospects for Haiku religions: Quakers are perfect for haiku worship. Catholic haiku religion where you could make up haikus instead of saying the rosary. It’s all silliness but my mother said silliness saves when the going is hard. I hope you have some levity soon and some really good sleep. Blessings.
Leave it to you Susan to tease out the linkage between Richard’s purple marble and the marbles he used in his sculpture. Thank God he wasn’t moved to use bowling balls, eh? Know you both are in our hearts — and that the strongest steel is forged in the hottest fire. Much love — Steve and Terry
Rudy and I just returned from an emergency trip to the drugstore to buy chocolate before they closed. I told him we could be volunteer firemen, from concept to success in 3 minutes! LOL. He laughed when I told him that I had to check your blog before eating because I was worried about you and Richard.
So glad to hear that they got the tumor out! The ironic thing, turns out, is that Rudy’s college roommate and good friend (Robert Anselmi) worked at the Denver VA hospital for years as head engineer there. Apparently he made quite a few changes while there, so maybe some of that is still lingering.
I hope you can get some rest now, and get home soon.
Blessings from Texas, where it’s cold now!
bobbi c.
Yup, it’s just too strange that the sculpture and the tumor echo each other.
Whew.
At shape note singing in Boulder tonight, I called a song for Richard. Right now, having driven home through snow at 30 mph and arrived here about 45 minutes later than usual for the distance, I can’t recall which one but (1) it felt 100% right at the time and (2) we sang loud enough you both might have been able to hear it in the distance.
Hugs, Deb
Lemons, marbles, soon you will be down to peas, or poppy seeds, or mushroom spores. Tonight we were at synagogue for Simchat Torah–the celebration of the end and beginning of the annual cycle through the five books–and when I smelled the citron I thought of you and your lemons. Our thoughts are with you both, and soon we will send a jar of lemon marmalade (marble-ade?) in case you are running out of peach.
Love, Laura and Sarah
Susan,
This sounds like a relief. Down the road…way down the road…when that truck has passed on by…they’ll be a memoir.
Janet Riehl
Is it truth in advertising that such a brilliant thinker as Richard will soon have a permanent question mark “calligraphied” on his head?
Will the “missing marble” be used in an upcoming Salida Millwork sculpture? Perchance an hommage to Sisyphus? Or maybe placed inside the jaws of a nutcracker? Or, added to the already-present marbles in “Matriculation”?
I reckon he might already have plans to exorcise it in the flame of a welding torch.
Continued brightest of blessings.
Can’t thank you enough for your updates, Susan. Reading your book and your blog, we feel deeply connected and to Richard. We would respect your privacy if you chose not to share, but are very grateful for your willingness to include us in your continuing journey.
Amen to Susan Albert. Thank you so much for your willingness to include us….
This is such good news. If all Richard has to do is heal and get better every day…well what a lovely prognosis. I’m so happy for you both. Thank you for sharing the experience with all of us.
Oh my! A purple marble-sized tumor! Fortunately it is now gone – all of it and it will not be missed – not this marble anyway. My thoughts and prayers remain with you both during this time of healing.
Thank you for your sharing. It is amazing the healing affect sharing can have going both ways.
Lindy
So glad to hear all went well…and Richard is now healing…and you, too.
Marbles in and marbles out…and all the rest of his ‘marbles’ are not lost, what a good thing!!!
Hugs and blessings,
Susan GT
Susan GT, Lindy, Kendra, Susan A, Anna, Eduardo, Janet, Laura and Sarah, Bobbi, Steve and Terry–Bless you all! It means so much to have your support, your silliness, your humor, your prayers, your hugs…. The rough patch is not over yet; we still have to hear from pathology about what kind of tumor Richard’s purple marble is. That’ll come Monday or Tuesday, and by then, Richard may even feel more like a guy who hasn’t just had his head sawed open. So keep those fingers crossed and good wishes coming. And thank you so much.
Dear Susan and Richard, We’ve been traveling and reading and reading and traveling, so I missed both Thursday and Friday’s report and just read them tonight. We’re so happy the marble is out! and that Richard is doing well. I loved your description of the loving space around you both, and obviously, all of us were thinking of that space and you both. Thanks for showing the photos of Richard’s sculpture (and so glad, as someone said, that he didn’t use bowling balls!) and of the tomatoes. Their rich color and your delicious recipe seem redolent of love and good fortune in this journey for you both. The sculpture is like your book, Susan, strong and thoughtful, filled with gems.
Sending love and prayers for a quick recovery.
Dear Susan,
I kept thinking of you and Richard the past two days and hoping it went well but never when I could check on my computer. Just now, the two came together and I got the good news that the tumor has been “routed” (makes me think of your next book “Rooted,” the opposite). I am so happy and I too am grateful you can include us.
Love, Carolyn
Susan and Richard,
I’m relieved that Richard (and you, too, Susan) is/are on the road to recovery! I can’t stop giggling to myself about losing a marble-sized brain tumor. I hope the delightful image speeds your recovery. I’m thinking healing thoughts for you both.
Cindy Salo
May you be blessed with good news and the continued support and prayers of so many who care. It’s one of the wonders of the internet that we can all connect and share the burdens and the joys. You are both in our hearts.
Bless you all! I’m too exhausted tonight to write anything clever or humorous, but the support and the stories and the words and the giggles mean the world to me, and to Richard. Thank you.
We may be going home tomorrow, at least for a few days. We’ll know more about what’s ahead when we get the pathology report on the tumor. But that’s for later. For now, sleep and healing.
It’s obvious, Richard has to lighten up. Left with a question mark on the side of his head, he has a message to broadcast to the world: Think, people, think !
Best wishes for a speedy out-of-the-hospital recovery. I hope my words make him smile.
Susan,
So glad the surgery is over, the tumor removed, odd coincidence, the marble thing.
We wish him now a speedy recovery. I for one appreciate your comments on government care. Thanks for including all of us in Richard’s journey that began with birds and ended with marbles. Best wishes to both of you. Eunice Boeve
Dear Susan, How rich you make your experience by looking at it from so many levels, in spite of it not being one you would have chosen. Obviously, there is great harmony in your and Richard’s lives – or at at minimum, synchronicity in fashionable hues! You both remained in my heart and thoughts on Friday during the surgery. Prayers and loving wishes continue with you both through this chapter of the journey.
sweet blessings, love, laughter and healing,
Mary
Whoopee! It posted. It’s the first time the cyber hall monitor let me post a comment here!
Mary
Susan, only you could write your way so beautifully and so thoughtfully through this experience. I’ll be keeping both of you in my thoughts and prayers.
Wow,Susan, what an ordeal you two have had in the past year or so. I’m so happy to hear Richard is doing well.While excruciating to endure, these things do strengthen us and make us even more cognizant of our many blessings.
My best wishes for a full and speedy recovery!
Heidi
Yes, yes, a fire in the wood stove. Amazing you can be home so quickly after so much but oh so good for you. Sleep in your own bed together-delicious. Eat your own recognizable food. Wonderful!
Susan,
This is the first time that I’ve ever read your blog and I’m so glad to have found it! I’m so glad that Richard is doing well. And I’m also delighted that he lost his marble.
Shea
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