I haven’t had a chance to get online to post my last couple of entries. They have been sitting here as word documents, patiently waiting for an internet connection. Here’s the oldest:
December 10, 2015
At some point, everyone I know has realized that their life has not turned out the way they thought it would, or isn’t going as they had planned.
I for one, did not plan on getting a brain tumor at the age of 44. Nope, not in my plan! I didn’t actually have a life-plan, as it were, but if I did, this would not have made the top 10 list of what to do when I grow up.
The fact is that my life so far has been so much better than I had ever imagined. This situation cannot take that from me, and has given me the gift of a new outlook, acceptance, and gratitude for what I do have, especially the support and love of family and friends.
Living with a brain tumor of uncertain origin, behavior, or prognosis is a daily reminder that I just never know what someone else is going through. Not all of our problems are visible. When I am able to remember that, I am able to have more patience, to feel more compassion, and to show others (and myself) more love and kindness. It is also a reminder that each day is precious and that none of us know how many days we have in this life. I was shown that friends, acquaintances, and even complete strangers are willing to help when asked.
It’s too bad that it took something putting the fear of imminent death in me to truly feel grateful for each day. It may have been the way my neurologist told me the news, the words he used as well as how he looked at me; especially how quick he was to whip out his prescription pad to write me a script for 100 valium with 3 refills with instructions to take 6 a day while telling me that I’m going to need it, and that he doesn’t care if I get addicted to them because I have a long fight ahead of me. Yeah, I think he scared me more than the actual brain tumor. No, I have not been eating valium like M&Ms, by the way. In fact, I haven’t drank alcohol or taken drugs in over 18 years, so I’m sure as hell not going to start now!
The shiny new-ness of thinking I was about to have my skull cut open, have some tumor and brain scooped out, take lots of poison to treat it, then keel over dead anyways, has worn off, but I am trying to keep the attitude of, “Oh well, let me stop freaking out about everything and enjoy each day.” Unfortunately, I do still meander off the course and get stuck in the petty stuff sometimes, but I think I’m doing better with my outlook than I was pre-Bob.
I have stopped asking Why, What if, and What the hell, dude. I am going forward from right here. Starting with getting the hell out of sub-freezing weather this winter and becoming possibly the youngest snow-bird in Florida!