The Rise of A Phoenix

Chapter Fifteen- Fighting and Still Unbroken

The scans were done and I was fighting exhaustion and lethargy. This wasn't a good sign. It meant that the pressure in my head was rising. The transport team wheeled me back to the ER and I was tense with fear and anxiety because I knew what needed to happen

next-the tapping of the valve. My saving grace was when Dr. Anderson walked in.

“Hey, Dr. A. So glad to see you.” I said weakly.

“I wish it was under better circumstances than this, Brittany.” she said while she prepped a tap kit.

“So do I, but I'd rather be under your hands and scalpels than a male neurosurgeon's. You're less likely to make me look like hell when you shave my head to take the valve out.” I said with a smile.

“We’re not there yet. We might have to be, but not yet.” Dr. Anderson said this while she found the valve site and applied Betadine to it to sterilize the site before the tapping procedure.

“Okay, we're ready to roll here. Here comes the needle. One, two,three.” Dr. Anderson said as she drove the needle into the valve.

I looked over at her. She was preparing a vial.

“Oh, thank God. It's not dry. Oh, thank Jesus.”, I said, crying in relief.

“Just because I got fluid out of the valve doesn't mean that I won't have to take it. I have to see what the sample I just drew looks like.” Dr. Anderson said this with warning and the experience of a surgeon in her voice.

“OK, but what happens until then? My head hurts and I can't take anything for it because I'm pregnant.” I said this in both pain and irritation.

“We can adjust the valve and see if that helps some. Remember, your body is supporting your baby plus you, and that includes your brain.”

“If it's broken, that's useless.” I said, irritated.

“I got fluid out of it, so we might not be looking at a complete malfunction.” Dr. Anderson said with a bit of hope in her voice.

“ Let's give the beeping donut a shot then and see what happens. I'm willing to try anything to avoid putting my growing child under the effects of anesthesia a second time.” I said with nervousness.

“I've never heard the shunt adjuster called that, though you're right, it does look like a donut. I'll go get it and we'll get this done.” Dr. Anderson said with a smile, leaving me with my bucket. Dr. Anderson came back with the adjuster and the results of the cerebrospinal fluid samples she drew.

“The samples I took and sent to the lab came back clear. No infection or foreign bodies are present, so your body's not rejecting the valve for any pathological reasons. That makes the pregnancy and the age of the valve the two biggest reasons for a possible rejection and malfunction.” she said with a mix of hope and desire for clearer answers.

“So, what you're saying is that I won't be normal until I have my baby or I have a revision of the valve, correct?” I asked her this like I could spare myself the agony of the truth-I’d eventually need shunt surgery, either before or after I had my baby. The sad reality was that I couldn't spare myself. I had done everything right and everything I could and still couldn't spare myself from the scalpel.

“I can still reset the valve using the adjuster and see what happens, though. I've got it here. That is, if you're still willing to try.” Dr. Anderson said, holding it out to me.

“If it gets me to my due date, then I'll do it. Let's get it done.” I said, all steel and courage.

“OK, stay still. Lots of noise. Don't move your head.” Dr. Anderson commanded as she placed the adjuster over the valve site. Five minutes later, she had my valve adjusted and was packing up her equipment.

“ The quickness of the readjustment process always surprises me. It's Dr. Leland Albright I have to thank for having a Codman valve in the first place. Traditional shunting didn't work on me so he suggested that I have a Codman valve placed. I was one of the first pediatric neurosurgery patients to have one placed. This was back in 2002. Haven't used anything else since.”

Despite everything, I know Doc Albright saved my life that Christmas. I had a Staph infection in my brain and he had to take the valve all the way out, beginning at my head and finishing at my abdomen, at the tip of my breastbone. I was eight years old, and my biggest fear was Santa forgetting me when he delivered presents because I was in the hospital. That's why my mom begged Dr. Albright to do whatever he had to do to make sure I was home for Christmas. The conversation between him and my mom went something like this:

My mother said,

“Dr. Albright, you have to make sure she's home for Christmas. Do whatever you have to do, but make sure she's home. If you can't, I'm taking my daughter home. She's only eight years old and she deserves to be home in her own bed for Christmas.”

Dr. Albright looked at her, looked at me, and said:

“I can't make promises, but I'm going to try. She has a long road ahead, especially now.”

I spent the next week in both my mother's and my stepmother's arms, puking brain fluid, but Dr. Albright made it happen. I made it home for Christmas Eve. I remember my stepfather carrying me into the house to my bedroom and there being a manila envelope filled with cards from my classmates on the bed. They all made me cards even though only my best friends Shelby and Kristen came to see me. We made paper chains to decorate my hospital room and pass the time.

The thing my mother remembers the most about my homecoming is the poinsettia flower I had brought home from school as a gift prior to the Christmas break being in full bloom.

“ Look baby, it bloomed. Isn't it beautiful?”, she said.

I still have the three scars on my chest from those fateful days. They serve as a reminder that I lived when I wasn't supposed to. All of my scars did and still do.

That's why the process of being pregnant was so emotional. I was watching my body change, and it wasn't through someone else's hands, but my own and the process of something I shouldn't have been able to ever experience.

Six weeks after Dr. Anderson saw me, I saw Dr. Platt and her team. I was going to find out the gender of my growing child.

Unfortunately, I had to do it from a wheelchair as I was still in hip rehab. I was at least capable of standing on my hips and feet, so getting on top of the exam table wasn't an issue, except for the height.

“I need some hands here. The table's just a hair too tall for me. Curse being four foot ten.”, I muttered as the nurse offered me her elbow.

“Thank you.” I said, taking her arm, bridging the distance between the table and the ground and hoisting myself up onto the table by my arms, backwards.

“Whew. Done. Still got it.” I said breathlessly.

“OK. Here's the hard part. Roll up your shirt and lie flat.” the nurse said.

“OK. I think I got it. Piece of cake.” I said, smiling.

“Today's gender day. What are you hoping for? Girl or boy?”, the nurse asked as Dr. Platt walked into the room.

“Like I told Dr. Platt, either is fine, but delivering a boy on the first go around scares me a little.”, I said with a nervous giggle and a smile to match.

“Well, let's get started and see what we have here.” the nurse said as she squeezed ultrasound gel onto my small dome of an abdomen. It startled me because the gel was cold on my bare skin.

The nurse rolled the ultrasound transducer over my abdomen and I almost cried because I couldn't believe what I was seeing.

“Well, would you look at that! It's a girl! Congratulations, Mom.”, the nurse said with a smile.

“By all appearances, she's healthy. Congratulations.” Dr. Platt said, handing me tissues.

“Wow. Is that really my daughter? I still can't believe I built that.”, I said, dumbfounded at the prospect.

“Well, you did. Well done. I'll print you the ultrasound. See you in a few weeks.” Dr. Platt said as she hit the print key on the keyboard.

The nurse grabbed my wheelchair, helped me off the table and got me into it.

Four more weeks and then I'll be at where my mother was gestationally when she delivered me. Please let there be a God, and may he help me not repeat history.

“Baby girl, Mama loves you so much already and you're not even here yet. I can't wait to see you. I will be the proudest mother in the world when I finally get to hold you in my arms.”