Lucky

I feel stuck in a story of hope and loss, grief and healing. Right now things are never just one way. There are bad days but they are balanced out with incredible moments. Snippets that, thanks to the removal of my tumor, I can remember and reflect on. So much I don't control. I begin each week, each day with a plan or an idea of what I would like to do. By lunchtime that plan has usually changed. I know I'm not social. I know that being home is comfortable. I have great friends that draw me out, but it is so easy to slip into patterns of complacency. I think that scares me the most. The moment I stop pushing, I fear that I am lost.

No one knows yet what TBI and brain tumor patients are capable of. Some seem to suffer no ill effects at first but traumas can show up years later after the triggering event. Uninformed doctors and other professionals then continue to build on myths with outdated and ill-informed opinions.

I found myself quite agitated today confronting an opinion, expressed in the news media. Let's just say that the opinion/information expressed was minimizing and demeaning for those like me who struggle daily with recovery. Remove it, recover, no ill effects. This was the basic idea expressed. It's not a big deal. The tumor doesn't cause symptoms. It's benign, you're lucky.

I know I'm lucky, not because the tumor is considered benign, but because I lived.

I lived.

This is my story for the past 11 months.

Someone familiar with the nature of the meningioma tissue but not my tumor would say that there was no harm done. My tumor was not integrated with other tissues. It did not grow out of my neurons, but out of the protective covering of my brain. The tissue was fibrous, thick, and heavy. It was protective, but it still almost killed me.

It surrounded my left cranial nerves, it was crushing my midbrain, it had compressed my cerebellum, displacing the structure and the pressure had caused my frontal lobe to swell dangerously. My tumor had developed a network of vessels and structures to support it. Each vessel had to be cauterized before more tissue could be removed. Carved out one piece at a time because of the integration of my nerves. The supportive structure for my cerebrospinal fluid, CV4, had ben completely compressed. Headaches, my noticeable symptom for the past few years, were likely caused by the pressure buildup of "not enough room".

Something had to give. It was me. I almost lost me.

I am lucky.

I am lucky to have had the surgeon I did. Lucky that the ER doctor didn't assume that since I was a woman I was just overreacting. Lucky that I had family and friends that rallied to support my family in this trial. I am lucky, not because it was benign, but because I still live. Then again, I do believe that luck had little to do with it. God is good. Life is worth living fully. Every moment has beauty if we take the time to see it. Slow down, look around you. The moments are there.

God bless.