It is hard to believe that it has been a year since we snapped this picture in front of our house in Canberra before we hopped in a rented car (our hastily packed nine suitcases somehow crammed in there) and headed for Sydney and home. Looking back, I now realize what a complete altered state I was living in for the next six weeks. Brain cancer, brain surgery, chemotherapy - the kind of words that make you do a double take - is this real? Did I hear that correctly? I was fortunate enough to have never had a serious illness in my life and so nothing compelled me to think about it too much.
I know that I thought to take this picture wondering if we would ever be back to Australia even wondering somewhere in the back of my mind how long I had to live. I look at it now and I see a dividing line between our lives before and after.
It was October 3rd, the day after I was diagnosed or semi-diagnosed as the neurologist I saw in Canberra was pretty committed to saying as little as possible to me about what was happening. His opening line to me has to go down as one of the all time worst, "So, what do you know." Uh, what do I know? I don't know anything. I've been having headaches and you are apparently going to tell me nothing. After ducking out of the office late on a Friday afternoon to get an MRI and being told that since it was a long weekend Down Under (Labour Day) I wouldn't be able to get the results of the scan until Tuesday - I arrived back at the office to a flurry of messages saying I had to return to the lab immediately to pick-up my films and schedule an appointment with my GP so I then I could be referred to the non-commital neurologist. What words did he even use - likely, probably, consistent with? - a brain tumor. I know that the radiological report was much clearer (and fortunately incorrect),"The mass is consistent with a grade 4 glioma."
Strangely, I just found out that October 2nd is also the anniversary of Lance Armstrong's diagnosis - already fifteen years ago. I have to view that as a strangely possitive omen.
We will be celebrating on Sunday- not the cancer but the blessing that is our lives - and we hope you will be as well.
Although I don't fight brain cancer (I'll stick with melanoma, thank you very much), I did have brain surgery and I distinctly remember the call from my physician when she got the scans. In a week, I'd seen a neurologist, a neurosurgeon and had surgery scheduled. I hear both your struggle and your joyful anniversary. I hope things only improve from here.
ReplyDeleteCelebrating with you EVERY day! Aloha...wishing I was there with you this weekend... LOVE!!!
ReplyDeleteHi,
ReplyDeleteI have a quick question about your blog, would you mind emailing me when you get a chance?
Thanks,
Cameron
cameronvsj(at)gmail.com