A Post-Craniotomy Media Diet

Craniotomates are told to take four to six weeks off of work after surgery. Due to the nature of my job (teaching = getting a long-term sub) and the holiday schedule, I am fortunate enough to get two entire months off. Since my pain and discomfort are minimal, this sounds like a great time to kick back and get caught up on my Netflix streaming, no?

No.   

Brain surgery is unlike other surgeries, I’ve realized. When I had my colon removed in 1985, I indulged myself in MTV and Danger Mouse and listened to tapes of Howard Jones and OMD. When I had exploratory abdominal surgery in 1991, I watched news about the Gulf War and The Golden Girls. I listened to my tunes when there was nothing good on TV. But now, after my craniotomy, my house is often silent.

Brains are complicated things, simultaneously fragile and remarkably resilient. Brain surgery and the medications prescribed for swelling and seizures afterward mess with the functioning in some subtle and not-so-subtle ways. (See “Location, Location, Location” about which lobes do what and how that may affect post-surgical responses.) My response to television, radio, and other noise and information has been interesting.

Four days after surgery, Brian and I decided to get caught up on a couple shows that we love: Last Week Tonight with John Oliver and Stranger Things (season 2). During John Oliver, which is a half-hour comedy news show, I found myself thinking, “My god, is this an hour-long episode? Why is it taking so long?” I felt myself getting a little impatient with Stranger Things, too. As far as I could tell, I was understanding what I was watching, but it’s possible I wasn’t tracking it completely. I had ZERO tolerance for commercials: so noisy, so many flashing bits of information pelting my brain. I just couldn’t take the information onslaught that is television. Information overload.

About a week in, I became able to enjoy my regular slate of TV programs, but I rarely strayed into new programming or left the TV on after my selected program ended. Even with shows I like, though, I can sense my boredom reflex getting activated more quickly. I haven’t been listening to MPR very much at all. I don’t want background noise, not even music because even the classical music station occasionally devolves into too much talking. (One of my friends had a craniotomy three years ago, and she reports that she still is less tolerant of background noise.)

You know what doesn’t bore me? Staring out the window. Yep, I do that a lot. I totally get why dogs and cats do that so much. 

Me as a cat

Five days after surgery was Monday Night Football where my beloved Green Bay Packers played the Detroit Lions. I kept asking Brian if the screen looked dark to him. He said no, it was just a night game, but it looked weird to me. I’ve watched Sunday and Monday night games; this looked weird. Dark and dumpy, like a poorly-lit and neglected public pool. I thought, “Wow, the Lions’ stadium sure looks crappy, but Detroit is still on hard times, I guess.” In the second quarter, I realized they were playing at Lambeau Field. Oops. I didn’t watch the entire game for various reasons (not as much fun without Aaron Rodgers, for instance), but I also found the action of watching football difficult—too much to follow, so much noise.

Side note: I had mixed feelings about being a football fan before surgery, due to the whole chronic traumatic encephalopathy issue, but now that I’ve become a temporary visitor to the world of suboptimal brain processing, I feel even worse about it. I will have to consider whether I want to continue watching football. That being said … Go, Pack, go!

As I’ve recovered more brain processing ability, I’ve discovered that I can watch some football, as long as I have the sound muted. I can “watch” a news program, as long as I close my eyes. I tend to fare better if I can choose to either watch or listen; doing both still tires me. My thoughts create plenty enough noise for me.

And what about reading? It took a few days for my reading vision to return to normal (normal near-sightedness, that is), but once it did, I found I could read without too much problem. But I’m still finding it difficult to maintain concentration while reading news articles or essays. Fiction has – thankfully – been able to keep my focus (The Buried Giant by Nobel Prize winner Kazuo Ishiguro was an oddly appropriate read for someone recovering from brain surgery), though when I’m tired, all bets are off. [Update: Now that I’m off the steroid, it’s getting harder to concentrate. It took me about five minutes to read two pages of the novel last week because I kept getting distracted and would find myself staring at the wall instead.]

Lesson for future craniotomates: Don’t expect that your recovery, especially the first few weeks, will be filled with great TV programming, funky playlists, or interesting podcasts you’ve been meaning to catch up on. Your brain is tired, my friend, and you do not yet grasp just what that means.

Addendum: I came across this article on Slate.com, written by someone who experienced a mild concussion that made her re-evaluate her screen-time. Her issues are different from mine, but my brain issues have also caused me to alter my phone checking and media consumption. I used to be addicted to Candy Crush, but other than a few games in the first week or two after surgery when I played as a way to check my visual and fine motor skills, I have not played since. I hope that continues.