Yes, that’s what the doctor told my uncle about the bleed in his brain. Verbatim. “You blew a gasket.” They’ve said that it wasn’t an aneurysm in the classic sense of the word because the bleeding has stopped on its own. They expect the blood that’s still in there to resorb in about 90 days or so.
I spoke with him yesterday by phone. I didn’t have much to say which is probably most of the reason why the conversation was awkward as hell. But then, and I know some of you will laugh at this, I’m not a big talker. I do much better in writing than I do on the phone. He was distracted and tired and cranky, and I would be too if the situations were reversed.
They’ve told him his life has to change if he wants to keep recovering and not have this happen again, and that if he does make the changes (like giving up the coffin nails) he’ll probably make a 90-100 percent recovery. It’s up to him now to decide whether he’s going to play the game or not.
The point of this entry is that it will be the last on my uncle unless something major changes. I know I wouldn’t want someone else writing about the trials and tribulations of my recovery for anyone with internet access to read. I figured, though, that because of all the kind e-mails and support, and the human need to know “what happened” you all deserved at least an update.