Hi everyone!…

We have an update on the “On living in abundance” story published by Jules at the end of December, about Hanli’s stepfather who was one of the recipients of a 94.7 Christmas Wish:

A week ago today, the day before Zak checked into hospital, my daughter Hanli gave him a big send-off in the form of a christmas party. There were twenty people, and it was so jolly, that at one stage Zak said to himself: “Life is just perfect, right now. Why spoil it? Just forget about the op…”

We left whilst the party was still in full swing (it went on until 4am) and drove to Pretoria, where we spent the night at Zak’s parents home, and the next morning we were at Pretoria East Hospital by 8am.

We were shown to the luxurious “Executive Suite” and then… nothing! Zak had stopped taking his Parkinson’s meds 24 hours before, and I think the surgeon just wanted him comfortable and relaxed.
By the next day, Zak was in very bad shape - just as the technical team wanted him to be. They came and video-recorded various tests, which consisted of him trying to walk (he all but fell over), drawing a spiral on a piece of paper (he couldn’t) and opening and closing his hands as fast as he could (he couldn’t).

Thereafter he was given a supra-maximum dose of his medication, and the tests were conducted once more when the meds ‘kicked in’. The second video would be used during surgery as a ‘benchmark’, to give an indication of what the team should be aiming for when Zak’s at ‘optimal performance’ - and he did, indeed, perform all the tasks much better, accompanied by the dyskinesia (uncontrollable twitching) that is a side-effect of the medication. After the op, the dyskinesia from the meds will be a lot less, if not disappear altogether.

He was also taken for scans, which took two hours in the ‘tunnel’. It was very painful and uncomfortable. The final thing that day, was getting his ‘warpaint’.

I don’t know what it was for, but I assume it was for the placing of the ‘helmet’ onto his head the next day - an aluminium cage screwed onto his skull, to keep his head motionless for the operation. I stayed with him that night, and at 4am our sleepless rest was shattered as two nurses stormed in and switched on the lights and started to ‘prepare’ him. Eventually, the aneasthetist arrived to apply local aneasthetic cream to the places on his head where the helmet’s screws would be clamped to his skull.
At 6.10am Zak was wheeled away, and I was told to go and do something, because it would take very, very long. Dr. Van Rooyen, the aneasthetist, promised to stay in contact via cellphone, and send me regular updates. I went home to my in laws’ to shower and change into clean clothes for the day - and crashed! I slept like a dead person for a couple of hours. I felt very guilty when I woke up, and rushed back to the hospital. I knew I couldn’t ‘do’ anything there, but I knew I couldn’t do anything anywhere else either. I couldn’t read, or write, or watch TV… so I was prepared to pace, sit, stand, wait…

I spent most of the day sending sms’es and answering our cellphones.

The device does not cure or halt the progression of Parkinson’s, so the technical team was very happy when they were able to switch on the device at very low charges. That happened on Thursday - whilst still in ICU. Zak will be transferring to an ordinary ward tomorrow (Sun 20 Jan)). He was able to bath today! GREAT stuff - as he has not been able to get into or out of a bath for more than a year. And he stood up straight whilst the physiotherapist came to work with him.

For me, the most beautiful thing is his smile! Gone is the ‘parkinson’s mask’ - I’ve got my beautiful Zak back! Can you see the difference?

The pictures were taken one day before and one day after the op. The left-hand smile is the best Zak could do before.

I was very aware, all this time, of being held up and held together by others’ prayers… I’m just too tired and distracted! I drove home today to Vereeniging to attend to our taxes (eeeeek! deadline 31 Jan!) and correspondence and stuff, and I plan to get back to Pretoria tomorrow (if I get any sleep tonight).

So don’t stop praying! I’m relying on you.

Baie baie liefde en dankies,

Erna.