Brain Surgery Day
- lwill0517
- Nov 18, 2024
- 3 min read
On October 29, 2024, at 5:30 am, my husband Todd Willever arrived at UCLA's Ronald Reagan Medical Center for brain surgery. That morning, we knew certain things.
We knew he was having a craniotomy, we knew this tumor was in the same location as the first, and we knew the tumor was near his optic nerves. Most importantly, we knew that the brilliant, esteemed Dr. Linda Liau was performing the surgery.
What he didn't know as we parked the car and took that short, quiet walk to admissions was the outcome of his brain surgery.
Only time would reveal the answer. And, while it's pretty standard to worry about coming out of any major surgery, we also worried about whether his vision would be impacted. And if it was, what would that look like?
What am I? A brain surgeon?
Sometimes, when people are exceptionally brilliant, regardless of their actual occupation, we compare them to rocket scientists or brain surgeons. It's also not unusual, when we are asked an exceedingly difficult question, to respond, "How would I know? What am I? A brain surgeon?"
There's a reason for that. Performing surgery on someone's brain is about as difficult a task as one could imagine. The picture you see in textbooks or the model you use in a high school anatomy classroom doesn't really capture the complexities of the brain. The vast networks of nerves, neural pathways, and blood supply connect to every part of our bodies, without exception.
UCLA: The FedX of Pre-Op
The pre-op routine was surprisingly efficient, timely, and organized - unlike any other hospital we had ever experienced. UCLA is a dream. Every person we encountered was pleasant, helpful, and competent. Each step on the pre-op journey was a meticulously choreographed dance that led to a lengthy surgery starting on time.
Our daughter, Jessica, sat in the waiting room with me. This was no ordinary waiting room. First, this is Southern California so it extends to the outside. The seats were numbered and the reception desk staff know where everyone was seated. If you're wondering where your loved one is in the process, there is a huge screen that rivals air traffic control. Each patient color-coded, identified by a unique number, and their status is updated in real time. From check in to recovery and multiple steps in between.
When the surgery was completed, Dr. Liau entered the waiting room and walked right to our seats. Todd did great. He was in recovery and she shared the details. The tumor was somewhat wrapped around the optic nerves. That was new, and scary. But she smiled, unalarmed.
She explained that there was a field cut and the peripheral vision to his left eye may be permanently affected. That, she explained, is easily remedied by turning his head. She went on to explain that any other vision issues could resolve as the swelling subsides and his brain shifts to accommodate for the new space. This could take a few months.
The Headline
But the headline was that she was able to remove the tumor and scar tissue/dead cells. She removed as many cancer cells from the optic nerves as she could without causing damage to these very delicate lines. And while she couldn't guarantee whether she retrieved enough tumor cells to create his personalized DCVAX-L vaccine without the biopsy, Todd made it through a complicated surgery.
And that was the headline we would focus on.
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