People with brain atrophy, also called cerebral atrophy, lose brain cells (neurons), which causes a lost of connections between brain cells. Brain volume decreases. This loss of brain volume can lead to problems with thinking, memory, functioning, and — what was I saying? The greater the loss, the more brain impairment. I’m not sure how much volume I lost but I miss it a lot. A real lot.
Anesthetics activate memory-loss receptors in the brain, ensuring that folks don’t remember what happens during surgery. The activity of memory loss receptors remains high long after the drugs have left the patient’s system, sometimes for days, sometimes longer. We all be unique. There are no documented records at Saint Mary’s that state the cause of my brain damage. If a cause was recorded Saint Mary’s could easily be liable for what happened. So, there isn’t anything on my records that explain the possible cause of my atrophy. (After my surgery there was a rumor that my mental encephalopathy was the result of drinking alcohol before my surgery. When I started getting sick from hemochromatosis I drank enough vodka to fill a tanker full of Russian sailors. Twice. Squared. So, there’s that. That’s another pretty story — but what isn’t?) Each of the personal injury attorneys with whom I have spoke said that Saint Mary’s hospital in Reno is responsible for my encephalopathy. In short, the anesthesiologist fucked up and I have reason to sue Saint Mary’s. And then the lawyers ask me what I’m worth. I say: “You mean…like…financially?”
A few years ago I was hospitalized for hepatic encephalopathy, which is a brain disorder that happens when the liver is fucked. I had very high levels of ammonia in my body, which is what can happen when a liver begins to get very damaged. When this happened I had stopped drinking, so the cause was from iron buildup in my liver. Thanks, chromosome 6, ya fuckin’ genetic defect! The hepatic encephalopathy was so scary I remember a lot of it. Like being chained to a hospital bed so I could get drained. Anyhoo. I’m mental. Je suis officiellement fou. And scared. I’m always going on about being a genetic defect. Now it’s better than that — I’m also mentally disabled. So. That’s me. Yup.
Next up: hepatic encephalopathy!
Michelle O’Kane 