I guess that there is a sort of space where my tumor resided that is filling up with thoughts. Or brain matter. Or fat. Or whatever is supposed to be there. The only thing I do know is that the tumor is not there. So I am told. Next week I will go get my staples removed, and get a copy of my report.
What I have been told is that the whole tumor was removed and it was benign. As benign as something that isn't supposed to be in our brain can be.
Months of having my energy drain. Months of blood shot, dry painful eyes. Months of watching my skin get sallow. Months of "what ifs".
And now I am happy to take as many months as it takes to recover my strength and maybe learn about myself along the way.
It is almost impossible for me to "just" sit and do nothing. I am really too wasted though to do anything, so I guess my body is telling me to be good, behave, get better. Take it slow. Normally I am very impatient, and I am sure I will be again soon. As soon as my real energy kicks back in. For now I am happy to change out of my sweaty t-shirts a couple of times a day. With Nick's help, I managed two showers today. I just feel crummy and my arm pits stink, so clean body, clean clothes and baby powder makes me feel like a new person!
Of course, hair washing isn't really happening yet. I have a long line of train track looking staples in my head. I am not supposed to disturb them, so I kind of wash and rinse around them For now.
Next week the staples come out. Then what I don't know. Another MRI in three months to see how things are going. If it is up to me, and I know it isn't, there would be no more brain tumors. In my head or anyone else's. Nope. None.
I have really been doing some "deep thinking" since my surgery. I am sure that is common after any major medical event that is so potentially life altering. I feel wise. Sensitive. Aware of feelings both physical and emotional. I feel so much of the sensations I imagine a newborn feels. And I am so sorry that they are not all treated with the care, gentleness and dignity they deserve. Yes, we survive. Mainly intact as human beings. But, the sensations are so raw. Lights, loud noises, aggressive rubbing and massaging. I know that there are times when these things are essential to the baby's life. But I cannot imagine that it the norm. I think that the newborn is more of a bud that needs to gently unfold and stretch and smell and feel and hear and feed. All of these sensations are one and combined. They are defined and yet they are not.
I have been the baby's advocate forever. Now I feel even more strongly that I need to advocate for mothers and babies.
The first time I tried to clean up, in the hospital, after this surgery, I felt my skin. My flesh. Soft and malleable. Tender and pink and doughy. But not repugnant, as I would expect (my age and weight). I felt like I was all new and soft and needing so be tenderly cared for. And loved. And I was.
I am 60. Even with all the drugs on board, and brain surgery behind me, I could tell what was real and was was not. I have an idea what the world was and what it held. I understood pain. And fear. And also trust.
I can only try to be that newborn, soft, warm baby and imagine what it experiences in it's first moments. I know what I want it to feel and see and hear. But I think that will have to be another story for another day.
Holly crap! I have had Brain Surgery! How can that be???