Coffee With ChrissyInspire
I'm running early for my interview with Sheridan 55yrs, and so I order a coffee, and sit for a while to watch the world go by. Two beautiful blond teenagers walk hand in hand, a couple of small boys in hoodies seem to be setting off on an important mission, a baby girl sits on her father's shoulders, a middle aged couple strides through the arcade in matching tracksuits. It's a sunny Saturday morning, everybody's shopping or hanging out and life goes on.
For the owners of one of the shops in this arcade though, there was a time when life didn't actually stop, but it sure did get a blunt, bleak interruption. To see them now, in their jewellery store, chatting with customers, to hear them finishing each other's sentences and to witness their considerate and loving relationship, you would never guess what this couple has been through tough times. Sheridan has the calm, open, almost innocent look of someone who knows just where he is at, and his wife exudes the confidence that comes with knowing how incredibly good you are at what you do.
It was a different story a couple of years ago, when Sheridan started having mood swings and got to believing that everyone was out to get him. He was waking up angry, being hyper critical of others and responding to minor irritations in extreme ways. These behaviours were damaging both his professional and personal relationships, and his marriage was under so much strain that unless he agreed to see a psychiatrist, his wife wanted a separation.
He got a referral from his GP and sought help not only because he wanted to save his marriage, but he also had a deep down feeling that something was wrong.
Not long into his first session, his psychiatrist noted that he wasn't filtering what he was saying and she wasted no time in recommending a cat scan to explore causes for this disinhibitive behaviour. Her plan of action was to rule out the physical first, then we'll look at the behavioural. Sheridan was happy to cooperate but the severity of his situation hadn’t really hit home yet.
"Just analyse me"
That Monday morning, as he lay inside the CT scanner tunnel, Sheridan's primary concern wasn't about the state of his brain, rather, he was focussed on following the operator’s instructions to stay as still as possible. When there was mention of an injection of special dye into his bloodstream, being a pro-am photographer, he was more interested in what effect this high contrast liquid would have on the final image than in why this was necessary. He just wasn’t getting it. With the procedure complete, as he left he even indulged in a bit of gallows humour, asking the attendant, am I having an aneurism to which she replied no, you're not.
His psychiatrist received results on Wednesday and she rang Sheridan's GP. When his GP requested that he and his wife come to talk privately, the penny dropped, and he remembers saying to his wife, that's it, Sheridan, be a man, and face the music.
Sheridan had a brain tumour.
That Friday 13 July, when they got the six to twelve months to live section of the prognosis, Sheridan remembers his wife bursting into tears. Of course she felt awful about her husband's fate, but guilty as well, for having misinterpreted his erratic behaviour now that they knew it had been beyond his control. But Sheridan tells me that he thinks that if someone does you a disfavour, they are actually doing you a favour, because it makes you change your course, and in this case, he's so right... if it hadn't been for his wife's ultimatum, the outcome may have been far worse.
The following Tuesday, thanks to a timely cancellation, Sheridan and his wife sat in Dr Charlie Teo's rooms at the Prince of Wales Hospital in Randwick. The so called maverick brain surgeon wore a dark v-neck sweater, blue operating trousers and white joggers. He told it straight and offered three options. Do nothing, have a biopsy, or operate. After a moment's pause, Sheridan asked Charlie Teo to operate. Impressed and reassured by Teo's frank style, the only question Sheridan had for him was can you do it next week. There and then, Charlie fitted him as his fourth patient on the Monday of the following week. The respect and admiration that Sheridan has for his surgeon is evident as he smiles at the recollection and declares, now that’s a man!
Sheridan and his wife went home and prepared themselves. They packed hospital essentials, including a backgammon board, and waited. On that Monday, as the American Neurosurgeon Gary stood over him and announced that he was in Australia to learn from Charlie, the Master, Sheridan's last pre-operation words were Gary, put me under!
The tumour that was removed from Sheridan's brain was on the frontal lobe and had a circumference between 2.6 and 3 centimetres. It had started to grow into his hypothalamus.
White Cavity (triangle area) is where the tumor was removed.
"His brain tumour was malignant and to date all his scans have been clear."
Post operation, the first thing his wife asked him as he came to drowsy consciousness was can you count to ten which to her amazement, he did, and backwards, in English, then Greek, and then French. The next day, high on synthetic morphine but feeling stronger, he challenged a nurse to a round of Backgammon. He won a game, lost a game and then announced, that's it, I'm ready to go home. Within a couple of days, he was home and using over the counter Panadeine as his only post-care medication.
It’s been ten months now and Sheridan hasn't looked back. His brain tumour was aggressive and to date all his scans have been clear. His wife tells me that these days, he is calmer, far more understanding, he sees two sides to every story and is far more conscious of the people around him. Sheridan sits listening, and once again, I am struck by the gentle compatibility that these two share. He adds that thanks to the psychiatrist's excellent diagnosis from Michaela, the cancellation that facilitated his timely meeting with Dr Teo, the surgeo'’s willingness to apply his outstanding skill, to his wife's "disservice", and untiring support from his son and daughter, he is cautiously optimistic and very grateful to be here telling his remarkable story.
I walk out of the jewellery store and into that sunny Saturday afternoon where there are people shopping, others are just hanging out, and it's just so very good to know that sometimes, even against extraordinary odds, life does indeed go on.
By Anna North
More Inspiring Stories: