The Story So Far Part IV: A New Hope

I wasn't in a great state when I left the hospital, and I'm not talking about Tasmania. The walk down to the car took ages becuse I could barely move. To add insult to injury, the drugs I was on (apparently also used to treat epileptics) had slowed my brain down to a crawl. I was, in every aspect, slow.
I went and stayed with my parents for a while, but had to leave after a few weeks because they were driving me crazy. This led to what was probably a premature return to work. I was still on the drugs, so wasn't contributing too much, and my inability to look back over my shoulder without turning my whole upper body made the daily drive entertaining, in a sort of "we're all going to die" sort of way.
As time bore on though, the hiccups stopped, I got off the medication and the movement in my neck returned. I also had one hell of a scar to show off in the pub. Unfortunately, the nerve damage in my arm was permanent and the neursurgeon offered no hope in it getting better.
About six months after my operation my flat mate and I went for what was supposed to be my first run - an easy 5k jog with a few hills. By the time I'd made it two k's, he'd gotten home and drove back in the car to pick me up. Fitness was obviously a state that was going to elude me for some time.
Over the years it did happen though. I got to the point where I could run, play touch footy and volleyball again. My neck, over this same period, started making a lot of popping and cracking noises and the amount of sensation and strength in my hands and arms decreased. Attributing it to the ongoing effects of the operation and nerve damage (and probably fear as well), I ignored it. Bad idea.
This year the degeneration in my right hand really escalated. I would constantly burn myself due to lack of temperature sensation, I constantly had a feeling of pins and needles and lost a lot of strength and movement in my hands. All of a sudden common things like using taps and doors or writing became near impossible. Time to go back to the doctor, albeit a few years too late.
The MRI's and CT scans this time showed that while my cyrinx was not an issue, my spinal column was. The C3 and C4 vertebrae had collapsed on each other to compensate for the bone removed and the weight of my enormous head. As a result, they were jutting into my spinal cord and putting pressure on it, causing the issues in my hands and arms.
The prognosis this time? Another operation. The goal is now to remove the bone pushing on my spinal cord and insert some rod's and plates to help my spine deal with the weight of my not-quite-abnormally-large noggin. One rod at the front, a titanium mesh affair that'll be filled with the ground up bone that's removed, and two titanium plates at the back, one either side on those wing-type arangements of the bone. I'm guessing airport security is going to become even more of a chore afterwards.

So, that's how I got to to this point. My operation is in a bit over a week, which is unfortunate considering it'll put me out of action for most of the christmas party season. Next week brings such exciting events as groin swabs (the nurse insisted!) and blood tests.