Tag: Brain Surgery

My Ponytail

CraniotomyMeg

I wore my hair in a ponytail the other day. A ponytail! While this may be an everyday occurrence for some people, it was a major milestone for me.

It’s now been 6 months since my last craniotomy.

After surgery, my recovery was so gradual that sometimes it felt as though I would never get better. At times, it even felt like I was getting worse because progress was so minimal from one day to the next. I had never been so physically broken.

Then, months after surgery, I started to realize how much progress I had actually made. There were several milestones, and they started small; the first time I held my own head up for an hour; the first time I stood up after surgery;

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Even coming home from the hospital was a celebrated milestone. Then, the first time I walked to the bathroom without the cane; the first time I slept through the night; the first time I went an entire day without a nap or pain medicine; the first time I was able to hold my kids;

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Then the milestones became more spaced out; the first time I was able to drive again; the first time I did 10 minutes of physical activity (running in place); the first time I was allowed to get on an airplane; the first time I could tolerate wearing a hat, and the first time I was able to submerge my head under water;

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But, until just recently, I still hadn’t been able to tolerate wearing my hair in a ponytail.

When it happened, it was completely unintentional. I’d had a long day at work, and was washing the make-up off of my face. My hair clip had gone missing (a common occurrence in a household with 2 toddlers who “borrow” anything that looks remotely interesting). So, instead, I grabbed a black hair tie from the bathroom drawer, and awkwardly pulled my now short hair into a tiny ponytail.

Then, my boys came running in like whirlwinds. As always, they needed milk, water, a stuffed animal, books, and help brushing their teeth before bed.

Nearly an hour passed before I realized my hair was still in that tiny ponytail. I went to the mirror and looked at my reflection. I smiled. Another milestone. Another small reminder of the progress I continue to make.

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I am not fully healed yet. But, that pony tail promises that one day soon, I just might be. 

This is my story, and it is not over yet.

A letter to my sons, written the night before brain surgery

CraniotomyMeg

July 19, 2018

Dear Meatball & Rooster,

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One of life’s most precious gifts is that it is fleeting. Everything you’ve ever known can change in a second, a minute, or just a few hours.

On Sunday, June 24th, 2018, I had a seizure on our kitchen floor, right in front of you while you were playing together with Play-Doh, and was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. We found out hours later that I have tumors in my brain, ear canal, and spinal cord, and they’re beginning to show symptoms, requiring surgery.

While this is all very new and scary, my decision to move forward with the surgery is intentional, and I’m doing it because of my love for you. I have so much to fight for, and I need you to know that I am doing this because YOU are worth it.

Boys

As the days have passed, and we draw nearer to surgery, we’ve had the unique opportunity to look at life through a new lens. Everything is different, and yet nothing has really changed at all; we simply have knowledge that we didn’t before June 24th and a diagnosis that wasn’t there before.

I’ve never taken our time for granted, but still each moment seems sweeter now, and its an incredible blessing to experience life this way.

The little things are the big things; watching you sleep, and imagining all of the things you’ll accomplish in your lifetime; taking you to a baseball game; holding your little hand as long as you’ll let me; teaching you to ride bikes; and hearing you giggle. I find myself staring at you often, trying to capture each memory and hold onto it forever.

My prayer is that one day this will all be a distant memory; a thing that happened; a chapter that has closed. Although you are both intuitive, I know that you are too young to remember all of the details of these pivotal moments. But, your daddy and I will remember, and when you’re ready, we will remind you of how these days unfolded, and why we made the choices we did.

I want so badly for this to be a story of strength and triumph that will inspire you to live your best life without fear of the unknown. I want to watch you grow up, and face your own challenges head on. I want for you to see that life is a beautiful thing that should never be taken for granted.

We are never promised tomorrow, and we need to make each day count. There are things that are within our control, and things that we have to leave to faith. So, for now, I am simply trusting that God’s plan is the same as mine.

If there is one thing I can weave within these words and capture here for you forever, it would be my undying, unrelenting, neverending love for you. It is something truly tangible that you have the ability to carry with you long after I’ve left this earth.

Please, don’t ever doubt the power of a mother’s love for her children.

Mom

I love you all the stars in the sky; I love you all the angels in heaven; I love you all of the leaves on all of the trees; I love you all of the fish in the sea; I love you all the raindrops in the ocean; I love you all of the miles to the moon and right back down again.

Love,

Your mommy