I did promise an update and pictures on the cyborg conversion process! I went in for my long-awaited surgery last Monday. It was an 8 month wait, with 2 instances of being rescheduled, but compared to many wait times I hear about I’m certainly not complaining. The admission process was pretty par for the course, with the one modification of having a chat with a representative from the company who makes the nerve simulator device. A lovely woman who came in from Montreal walked me through what to expect during and after the surgery. To summarize:

• The device would only take 3 hours to install
• I would be awake for the surgery
• They would be shaving a portion of my head
• No getting the dressing wet during the trial (which makes showers and hair washing insanely difficult by the way)
• After they surgery they would create a program for the device, which can be adjusted with my new nifty remote control

I learned two useful facts during this surgery. One is when they say I’ll be awake, it actually means I just hallucinate. The second is that if there is a chance you’ll hallucination, you should probably avoid going to an anime convention the day before. The mixture of the two makes for some very, very strange dreams.

After what felt like 10 minutes to me, but was in truth 2 hours and 50 minutes later, I was suddenly aware of the doctor asking me if I could feel the nerve stimulation as he tested each pulse. Finding a way to accurately describe the nerve stimulation is difficult. People who have had a TENS machine used in physio will understand. If you haven’t used one before I suppose the most apt description would be the sensation of vibration you get from sitting in one of the massage chairs at the mall, only just for the back of the head. As someone who has been electrocuted several times now, primarily thanks to a stove that I’m 98% sure was actually a poorly designed attempt on my life, it’s actually not at all like that. The sensation takes some getting used to, but actually becomes quite soothing as you adjust. Turning my head would increase or decrease the sensation as the device was pushed in to my head by the motion. One thing I quickly realized is to use the remote to turn down the settings before bed, because if you don’t do it before your head hits the pillow you’re in for quite the jolt.

The nurse said the line would come off with soap and water. Much scrubbing later I can say this is not the case

That is iodine smeared all over my face, though it did look pretty damned gross.

Recovery time was very short and after just 3 hours of chilling in a hospital bed with a good book I was free to go home. The following week was a lot of trial and error as I learned what the limits of my wire length was, finding good settings for different activities, and getting creative in trying to figure out how I was going to keep from looking like a complete greaseball (Hint: Dry shampoo, bathtub balancing acts, and eventually caving and asking my mom to help me wash my hair in her kitchen sink).

Public reaction to the device was very amusing. Some people stared but wouldn’t comment. Others would ask what the bandages were for. Others made guesses such as “Did you get a tattoo?” or assuming I was in an accident “Oh my god, what happened to your head!?”. I even flew to Toronto with the device in, and was amazed at how accommodating airport security was. All they asked was if it was a medical device, then would escort me around the metal detectors to avoid shutting off my device, then straight to a pat down. My favourite reaction was after explaining to a fellow Realtor my 3 year headache and how the surgery works. All she could ask was “How on earth are you smiling?”. I actually get that question a lot when people meet me and then later find out about my condition. There is a long, sappy, pseudo-philosophical answer to that, which I may some day write about, but usually I’ll just smile and jokingly say “Drugs”.

In the end there was one irrefutable fact: The pain in the back of my head was gone.

My headache, which I have named Bob, consists of 4 primary pain points. One in the back of my head (30% of the pain), one on the top of my head (10%) and two on my forehead (60%). The surgery currently only works for the back of my head as I’m told leads toward the front are untested so far. However that 30% on the back is completely gone as long as the pulses are going.

Holy crap, I found a good diagram of my pain points! What are the odds?

So am I pain free? Not by a long shot. I still have to avoid all my usual triggers lest I go practically blind, and am still on pain medications. I have no doubts Bob’s lease on my head is a long term one. Is the hassle of having wires implanted into your head worth it? Oh dear Gods yes.

Today I had the trial device removed which was a simple procedure that took under 10 minutes. I’m just left with a small hole in the back of my head which I’m told I can take the bandage off in 48 hours. I haven’t been given any kind of timeline, but with the success of this trial, somewhere down the road they will move forward with the sub-dermal implant and battery installation. And quite frankly, I can hardly wait. Within minutes of the device removal Bob was back at pestering the back of my skull as if he never even left. I also miss the fact that if I turned my head just the right way it felt like a really excellent head massage.

All in all I count my week as a cyborg as a success, and a great experience. Once again I realized just how incredible my family and friends are with all their support, well wishes, and putting up with my crazy cyborg oddities. I also learned how incredible my clients are. I don’t think I’ve ever had as caring and supportive client base as I have since joining real estate. I had just wanted to keep them informed that I was going to be out for 2 days and let them know they could contact my teammates in case of an emergency. What I got in response was overwhelming support. Clients reached out to me with everything from get well messages, instructions on taking it easy when I was trying to work the day after surgery, to sending me texts with pictures of flowers wishing me luck with the procedure, or giving me coffee cards to get me back on my feet. One client/friend even sent a get well card to my office with a list of questions to ask a cyborg, along with a gift card to my favourite hair salon since he knew my head was getting shaved.

OK, so I promised myself I wouldn’t get sappy in this post, but I’ll wrap it up with this: You’re all freaking awesome. You all give me faith in humanity, which gives me the strength to suppress the robot urges to wipe out the human race.