Two Years

Anniversaries can be wonderful, upsetting, painful and so many other things in between. Today, February 16th marks two years since my Grand Mal seizure when I was backing out of the driveway with my children and dog in the car and backed into a school bus. I remain so grateful that no one was hurt. I do not remember any of it.

I have heard of what happened and it’s painful in my heart to know that I was violently pushing my daughter and my neighbor, two people that I love very much. I came to in the back of an ambulance and was sent to the county hospital where I don’t even remember having the CAT scan, but I do remember being in the hospital room alone wanting so much to comfort my kids.

The doctor walked in with a grim look on his face, put the images on the light board and informed me that I had a brain tumor about the size of a ping pong ball. I then had to call and tell Noel, who was out of town at the time and give him the news. The male nurse came in and started tearing up as I was just kind of stunned and sat beside my bed and said, “I know it must be so hard to get this news” and all I could think of was it was going to be so hard on my family and my friends to hear this news. Then we cried together.

I was transported to Vanderbilt where I had an MRI and went through tons of test including sticking my tongue out about every hour, pushing with my hands and feet for more and more neurologists, having anywhere from 3 to 9 viles of blood drawn each day. I don’t even remember how long I was in the hospital. I don’t remember when Noel and I told the girls that I had a brain tumor and Parker crying and trying to run out of the hospital room and Penelope crying. I ask Noel this quite often, “when did we tell the girls”. Sometimes I am glad that I was so out of it that I don’t remember certain things, but other times I feel guilty because I wonder was I comforting to them. Was I gentle and loving or did I just sit there in a daze and pumped up with so many drugs. There are still so many questions that I have that I don’t ask, forget to ask, or just don’t want to know the answers.

What I do know is that I have always been grateful for life and knew that things could change so quickly because my family suffered the tragedy of losing my sister, Brandi very suddenly and unexpectedly and losing my brother-in-law, Bryan from cancer just 6 months before I was diagnosed. My mom was finishing her chemo when I was starting mine.

But this, this opened my eyes to realizing that I am not in control. I could try to have control, but what good did it do me. I am not in control and I made peace with that and my diagnosis and whatever was going to happen to me very quickly. I didn’t cry much. When I did cry it was for the people that love me or from the pain I was in. By the way I have a very high threshold for pain, which is a very good thing.

The fact that the accident that changed our lives within seconds worked out the way it did with no one being hurt, my medical care, people taking care of me, staying with me, helping us and all of the support and love from everyone, I am
the perfect example that no one fights alone.

My list is far too long of people I want to thank, but you all know who you are and there are hundreds of you, REALLY, hundreds!

Please, love and accept love. Please live with gratitude even in the darkest of times. You only get to do this thing called life once.

Thank you for all of the love, support, and encouragement.

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