The plot thickens.

Petra is incredibly beautiful. Carved into sandstone cliffs more than 2,000 years ago, it has been described as "a rose-red city half as old as time". Here are a few pictures of my visit there on Wednesday, December 9. Unfortunately, there is a chance that this was the last day I will walk normally.


I awakened Thursday morning with a loss of coordination in my legs and an inability to pee. As the day progressed, I assumed the look of a drunken sailor on shore leave. I’m sure I impressed many Jordanians in the process. We returned to Amman Thursday as I was scheduled to present preliminary findings to the team that afternoon. I got through the presentation but decided it appropriate to visit an emergency room late afternoon. The usual delays due to confirmation of insurance ensued. The ER doctor wanted to admit me to the hospital for scans, but I was facing a dilemma. If the treatment for my deterioration could be deferred by a couple of days, then I would fly home for treatment. If it was more serious, i.e. something that required surgery, then did I really want to have treatment in Jordan where I don’t know anyone, the doctors are not familiar with my case, and a not inconsiderable language barrier exists? Any testing would probably just highlight that something needed to be done quickly, and because the tests would likely be repeated in the US, would just delay matters. So I made the decision to fly home immediately.

I was able to arrange a flight out of Amman just after midnight on Friday morning. Twelve hours to New York. My condition worsened on the plane. My legs lost most of their coordination and strength, and I began to lose control of my bladder. I told the flight attendants that I would need wheelchair assistance upon arrival in New York. Being pushed through an airport in a wheelchair is a pretty sweet deal as you go to the front of every line. But at customs I was asked to go to a special room, where I sat in my wheelchair in piss for an hour in a room full of Arabs. As the Homeland Security agents interviewed the others, most issues seemed to arise from inconsistent spelling of names on travel documentation. I could not figure out what I was doing in there, but the process does not allow for questioning. Finally, I was called to the desk. The agent handed me my passport and said “Sorry – you have a common name”. I maintained enough self-control to keep the obscenities at an inaudible level as I was wheeled out of that depressing holding room.

I had now missed any chance of catching the first flight out of JFK thanks to my “common name”. Fortunately, I was able to get on the next flight which was scheduled for arrival at 11:30 Friday morning. The flight was nearly empty which was really good considering the amount of piss in my pants and the difficulty I had in dragging my sorry ass from my seat to the bathroom and back. By the time I landed at LAX, my legs were dead weight and essentially useless. Cecily had done an amazing job of organizing the medical reception in LA with appropriate hospitals and experts. I don’t know what I’d do without that girl, I really don’t.

Five MRI scans revealed a previously undetected tumor adjacent to the spinal column. A couple of fingers from this tumor had entered the spine at T6 and T8, and were impinging on the cord, causing the problems I was experiencing. I had a great team of doctors in my corner insisting that surgery be performed first thing Saturday morning. And so it was. The back half of vertebras T6, T7, and T8 were removed and the portion of the tumor that was within the spinal column was resected. Early indications suggest that the strength is returning to my legs.

Hopefully, the pathology report will be ready soon. I am quite confused as to why this tumor was not detected on the CT scans that are performed every six weeks, but I will investigate that issue later. In the meantime, I spent the first 24 hours after surgery flat on my back. I’m now at a 25 degree angle, and will begin physical therapy sometime this morning. It is my understanding at the moment that I will be in the hospital for another few days and then be transferred to a physical therapy center so that I can learn to walk again.

All in all, it was a remarkable two-day turnaround between awakening in Petra, Jordan, on a Thursday morning with weak legs and spinal surgery in Los Angeles on Saturday morning. What an adventure. I am certainly blessed to have so many competent and caring individuals supporting me in all of this, starting with Cecily.