Where did I put that darned tumor anyway?

Oh yeah, somewhere in Baltimore.  In a petri dish, or where ever they put things that need to be medically examined and biopsied. What I do know is, that I am in Reston and my brain tumor is NOT!

I am not sure exactly how I feel.  Or if I am supposed to feel a particular way.

My greatest fear, I think, was of the possible impairments that could have come with this tumor, and with surgery on my brain.  It's kind of a big deal.    I was told that the tumor was completely removed and was benign.  Two good things to hear.

I am going to be on seizure medications for a while because brains are not happy when they have hands messing around in their space.    Not sure if there will be side effects or not.  Probably too soon to say.

One of the medications, that was intended to protect my gut from the irritating medications, instead, had an opposite effect.  Fortunately I think I know my body well enough to figure that out and take care of it before getting too depleted from diarrhea.

I want to sleep.  But I don't want to miss anything.   Like my kids when they were little I guess.  Oh, what mother doesn't long for her little ones to nap, only to fight with them because they are so present and want to be in every moment.  And why does it take so many years, after the napping battles have passed, to realize the futility of the battle.

So, I am 60. Still.  For most of another year.    I feel so ready to be done with diseases.  Forever.  And ever.  I guess that isn't an option.  But one can hope.

Courtney put a picture of my head. scar on my caring bridge page.  I am going to put it here too.  This picture was taken shortly after my surgery I would say.   I have washed my head a few times since then, but it still looks strange having a train track's worth of staples in my head.    Funny though, they don't feel like anything.

I think that the option of colorful beads should have been offered!

My arms and one foot are all bruised up.   Lots of needles, IVs, blood tests and blood gasses.  I had a catheter too, but only  vaguely remember that (thank goodness).

One thing I knew going into this was how loved I was.  I am.  I know I am.   Courtney and Carol and Nick all had to see me suffering, unable to speak and in pain.   I know that they were really frightened and would have done anything possible to care for me.  And they did.  They held my hand when I squeezed so hard I know it had to hurt them.   They helped me in intimate ways that only family can.   Hospital personnel do their jobs and comfort and clean you, but not with the love that your trusted family does.

How do I say this so that it makes sense?    I feel that, in many ways, I have chosen a life that is not always easy.  Being a wife.  Being a mother.  Being a sister who really knows the depth of the love that only the two of us can know.    These are things that take time and energy.  But, they are the best gifts I could have ever given myself as well.   How many people are so lucky to know that they can have complete trust in the people closest to them?    Wow.  

My head may be down one tumor, but my heart is filled up a million sizes more than before.