I’m scared. Terrified actually. At least it isn’t cancer. Well, that’s what I keep telling myself. At least this, or at least that. But when it comes down to it, RADIATION and SURGERY are really big words. My wonderful husband keeps trying to refocus my attention to my back. Which isn’t much better. I fell out of bed last night. If it weren’t for him, I’d probably be hospitalized right now again for rhabdomyolysis. It’s getting harder and harder to walk normally. Sometimes I lose my balance. Sometime I walk like I’m drunk (even though I don’t drink). Sleep is becoming so incredibly difficult. I can’t roll over most of the time because my back is in so much pain and at times I need my husband to help. He’s convinced they’ll want to do surgery. I’m not sure. I am hopeful that they will because I feel like it will relieve a lot of these symptoms. But in the back of my mind, all I can think is that it will only prolong the inevitable. SURGERY or RADIATION.
I’ve done research. Google can be a scary place. It takes you down this rabbit hole that leaves you obsessed with wanting more information. You see these ugly images of what can happen. What you may have to endure. What you may have to be tortured with. Being forced down into one spot held in place by a mask keeping you from moving your head in any direction. This, of course, is so the radiation is directly focused on the brain tumor alone and doesn’t damage any good tissue. But this only terrifies me. Which means I’ll need to be sedated for every treatment. I’ll need to find someone to drive me every time I have a treatment. I’ll have to put someone out, be a burden on them, for however many treatments I’ll be required to have.
Surgery, on the other hand, is just another check on my list of major surgeries that I’ve had. But it would be one surgery and I’d be done. Yes, I’ll need help after. But my husband would take some time off work and my mom would try to take a few days if she can. My tumor is near my skull so it isn’t too deep in my brain. I don’t think it would be too difficult as far as brain surgery goes. Yes, they would need to shave my hair. And it leaves a nasty scar. I’m not sure I’m prepared to put my body through yet another major surgery. Even though it is close to the skull, it is still very invasive and could cause very real and permanent damage. But there is always the lingering question: how do they REALLY know it is benign? What if they’re wrong this time? They’ve been wrong before. What if they’re wrong again?
What’s funny to me is that I started this as a text to my mom. Hands down the most incredible woman alive. I promise you, you’ve never known anyone greater than she. I started the text. But then it got to be too long. I know she would have responded something about how much she loves me. How much she wishes she could be here. How much she wishes she could take this all away. She is my mom, of course. Which is why I started to turn to her with these doubts. Her comfort means more to me than anyone else’s. I know it makes her feel a sense of guilt because she lives so far away. Which is absolutely not my intent. It’s just that when I feel torn, scared, hurt, elated or any other major emotion, she is the one I turn to. The comfort I feel from her, even from one coast to another is more than I can feel from anyone. And I love her so much for that.
The text I started to write my mom turned into too many words and I felt that I should turn to this blog instead. Why? I don’t know. Maybe you are just like me. Searching constantly for an answer. Hoping life can, for once, be black and white. Praying that shades of gray dissipate and resolve us so that we know exactly what we are supposed to do.
There was a time in my life that I knew. I knew exactly what I was meant to do in life. I felt it in the pit of my stomach and in the depths of my soul. But for now, that’s been taken away from me. And so I continue this search for a purpose. Yes, I have a lot of decisions to make. But within these major life moments, there has to be a reason that these moments, these choices, these problems, have been given to ME. What is my purpose right now in this moment? Maybe it is simply to write so that one day the right person will come along and read these words and stir something in them. Maybe to help them make a life decision. Maybe to help them let go of something they are holding so tightly to. Maybe simply to allow them permission to release their emotions and cry. Maybe that person is you. Maybe, just maybe, that person is my future self.
curvyfitfabuloss 