Sergeant returns home after lengthy surgery ordeal

  • Published
  • By Senior Airman Brad Pettit
  • 47th Flying Training Wing Public Affairs
LAUGHLIN AIR FORCE BASE, Texas (AFPN) --  Early assessments indicate he is the only person in medical history to survive the removal of a large brain-stem tumor and have few side effects afterward. The tumor was the size and density of a baseball.

Tech. Sgt. Michael Newell, 47th Mission Support Squadron group training manager here, underwent two surgeries to remove the enormous mass. His doctors said the surgeries were the longest in the history of Wilford Hall Medical Center at Lackland Air Force Base, Texas. Newell spent more than 57 hours under the knife over a period of five days in the center's neurosurgery department.

Ten months ago, Newell and his wife Diana, were living normal lives. Like many people throughout America, they were taking care of Christmas shopping and looking forward to an end-of-year break with family and friends. To the Newells, everything seemed perfect.

But as December wore on, Newell began to notice something.

"My vision started going goofy," he said in a deliberate voice, a product of the facial paralysis that is expected to vanish with time. "So I made an appointment (with the base optometrist) to see what was wrong."

Capt. (Dr.) John Mileski, 47th Medical Group optometrist here, and Staff Sgt. Jerry Dunn, noncommissioned officer in charge of the optometry clinic, began a series of eye tests to find the problem. Expecting to find only a minor problem or none at all, Mileski was taken aback when he peered into the sergeant's dilated eyes.

"We saw optic nerve swelling," he explained. "That's a pretty ominous sign that could indicate pressure inside the brain. If we ever see swelling like that, it is a good indication that some kind of mass may be growing there."

Believing Newell might have a serious problem, Mileski referred him to Maj. (Dr.) Jasiri Kennedy, 47th Medical Group family practice physician. Kennedy's suspicions mirrored those of Mileski, and Newell was sent to Val Verde Regional Medical Center in Del Rio, Texas, for a magnetic resonance imaging procedure. An MRI is used primarily in medical settings to produce high-quality images of the human body. In this case, the images were of Newell's brain. The MRI revealed a baseball-sized mass on Newell's brain stem. Kennedy then had to pass on this bad news to the Newells.

"I didn't know how to tell them," he said. "I just knew that it would be best to do it in person."

The doctor called the Newells' home Dec. 4 at 9:30 p.m. and asked them to meet him at the base clinic. Sensing the late-night call meant bad news, Diana began to worry. Newell, however, remained lighthearted and optimistic.

"The whole way there, I kept repeating that line from 'Kindergarten Cop,'" he said, imitating Arnold Schwarzenegger. 'It's not a tumor!'"

Once at the clinic, Kennedy broke the news.

"I don't know what I thought at first," said Newell. "I was frightened and surprised. If people had told me this would happen to me, I would have told them they were crazy. I spent two hours in the gym every day, working hard, lifting heavy weights."

On Dec. 5, the couple found themselves sitting in the WHMC department of neurosurgery. And it was there that Maj. (Dr.) Wayne Lee Warren, the department's cerebrovascular surgery director, told Newell that even though surgery was the best option, there would be some side effects.

"I told him before the surgery that he would definitely lose hearing and (facial) movement on the side of the tumor and probably temporarily lose (the ability to swallow)," he said. "This tumor eventually would have paralyzed or killed him from the pressure on his brain stem. I've never seen (a tumor more than) 5 centimeters in somebody who was alive."

Newell's tumor was 7 centimeters in size.

After questioning Newell about his symptoms -- there were none other than his vision -- Warren felt the surgery could be postponed for a few weeks. This would give him time to assemble a surgical team and allow Newell and his wife to celebrate the holidays.

Christmas for the Newells, however, was not simply a time of Christmas gifts and pretty wrapping paper.

"He had to get every kind of power of attorney signed," said Diana, "and you wouldn't believe how many consent forms I had to sign. I talked to the (Laughlin legal office staff), and they did everything right away. It helped put our minds at ease knowing everything was taken care of."

With the paperwork completed and the holidays a memory, Newell began the fight of his life Jan. 3. Warren and two other surgeons from WHMC, Majs. (Dr.) Michael Leonard and (Dr.) Drew Horlbeck, operated on him for 30 hours.

"After about 30 hours, we were exhausted and only had 40 percent of the tumor out," said Warren. "So we decided to bring him back another day to finish it."

The second surgery, following a three-day intermission, continued for 27 hours. It was completed as the sun rose Jan. 8. Though the surgery went better than everyone expected, a steep, uphill battle still lay ahead for Newell. First, steroids Warren prescribed to Newell two weeks before the surgery led to a stomach ulcer that ruptured and went undetected for several days.

"He got sicker and sicker, ultimately going into what we call sepsis, where you have so much bacterial toxin in your blood that your body tries to shut down," Warren said. That led to kidney failure and dialysis.

Because of Newell's kidney failure, he gained an estimated 100 pounds from his pre-surgery weight of more than 240 pounds. His prognosis dimmed.

"We surgeons needed (more) medical help at that point," said Warren. "Getting the gastroenterologists and internal medicine doctors to help us take care of him at that time saved his life, and they did a splendid job."

After the ulcer treatment, Newell began to shrink back to his original size. However, he soon hit his original weight and fell steadily below it. He continued to shed the pounds until May, when he was finally able to eat solid food again. At this point, he weighed 165 pounds.

Newell was unaware how much his weight fluctuated. He was unconscious. He remembers glimpses of friends and family visiting, but it was not until April that he fully regained consciousness.

The sergeant had now suffered months of trials and tribulations, but much more was in store for him. The next arduous step: rehabilitation.

"Rehab was grueling," said Newell. "It was a hard six weeks. The physical therapists had me going from 8:30 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. I had to learn to walk all over again. I would get up and do lots of exercises. I couldn't move my left arm at all. I had to learn to tie my shoes and everything."

Following rehab, Newell was finally able to return home. His wife now remembers his post-surgery state and marvels at how far he has come.

"All (the feeling) in his face is coming back," she said. "He still has a small amount of facial paralysis, but he is getting better every day."

Newell also has amazed doctors and journalists. Currently, several publications, including medical journals, are preparing articles on his experience and documenting the medical facts of his surgery for posterity. One fact that amazes his wife and doctors is that he has experienced very few side effects from the surgery.

"I am expected to make a full recovery," Newell said proudly. "The only side effect is that I lost hearing in my left ear. But as long as I can hear out of one, that's fine with me. As far as I'm concerned, it is a small price to pay."

Newell continues to recover at home. He exercises at the base fitness center every day and his wife reports he is eating "like a pig" to get his weight back to normal. Newell said he just wants to put this behind him and return to work and his normal life.

"I hope I can go back (to work) in September," he said.

While there may be few physical side effects from the surgery, there have been some mental side effects for both Newell and Diana. The experiences they have faced over the past few months have given both of them new callings in life. Newell said he is an advocate for the awareness of people who may be going through similar situations, and Diana is exploring a career in nursing. (Courtesy of Air Education and Training Command News Service)