6. Emergency Craniotomy

By the time P-chan's catheterization was finished, it was already past 7:00 PM.
I was called back to the consultation room. I wondered when the surgery would actually take place.

Next, it seemed to be the anesthesiologist's turn to explain. He was an eccentric anesthesiologist with a high-pitched voice and tall stature.
His way of speaking was as light as a hip-hopper's, and I found myself swayed by the pace of this easygoing, almost foreign-seeming doctor, which made my heart feel a little lighter.

When I returned to the waiting room, I was called by yet another doctor. It was the neurosurgeon who had come to meet us at the elevator.
The doctor began to explain P-chan's symptoms and the surgery while carefully drawing diagrams.

“There is a condition we suspect when a child suffers a brain hemorrhage.
It is a congenital disease called 'cerebral arteriovenous malformation'.
Normally, blood vessels should connect in the order of brain arteries to capillaries to brain veins,
but in this case, the arteries and veins are directly connected and intricately tangled,
and it is highly likely that this area ruptured, causing the brain hemorrhage.”

I understood the explanation.

“Was it because it was hot?”

Thinking there might be some reason, I asked.

“We don't know the cause.”

Perhaps because many people think, 'If there is a cause, humans will regret it, and if the cause changes, reality changes,'
the neurosurgeon seemed to skillfully dodge my question.


“Because the brain is being compressed by the hemorrhage, intracranial pressure is rising, and a cerebral infarction is also occurring, so we will perform a craniotomy to remove a piece of the skull and lower the intracranial pressure.”
A polite explanation. He was very calm, perhaps because he was used to this.


“There may be a sudden need for a blood transfusion during surgery, so if you agree, please sign this consent form as well.”
As I was told this and signed the two consent forms, I thought:

‘Being a doctor is tough... Since P-chan had listed it as one of his future dreams, I had been interested in the medical profession, but even for a surgeon, it's not just about performing surgeries.’

Unlike academic conferences or research papers, they must explain things so that ordinary family members can understand,
while being considerate enough not to cause panic, and yet, explaining the risks is also essential.
This is likely necessary to protect the doctors themselves, but it is also a fact that this explanation of risks can sometimes fuel the fear of the patient and their family.

I was thinking about such things while listening to the explanation of P-chan's surgery, so I felt no fear and shed no tears.

‘This doctor is someone I can trust.’

As the time spent listening to him grew longer, I became convinced of the intuition I had felt a few hours earlier.
I kept my questions to a minimum, and while signing the consent forms for the surgery and blood transfusion, I whispered strongly in my heart:

‘I trust you, Doctor, please take care of him!’

With the consent forms I had signed in hand, the neurosurgeon headed toward the operating room. Around 10:00 PM, my mother arrived at the surgery waiting room.
I felt the burden on my heart lighten as I was able to share what I had been carrying alone. I was truly grateful that while I am a mother of two children, I also have a mother of my own.

‘Mom, thank you.’

The reason I hadn't cried even once up to this point
is by no means because I am strong.
I believe it is because my desire for medical knowledge, necessary to understand what the doctors were saying and to keep up with reality,
outweighed my fear and sadness. In short, I have a geeky temperament.

And above all, emotions confuse others.
I felt that if I cried, it would affect the hearts of the doctors who were about to perform surgery on P-chan,
and that would push the success of the surgery further away.
Therefore, I absolutely wanted to avoid showing tears.
Getting through this emergency situation is my top priority above all else.

To be continued