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Bells and banners
Today, Sunday the 19th of July, is my birthday. “Let the bells ring out. Let the banners fly.” As birthdays go, it’s just another day, but with cake and far too many candles.
I heard someone say birthdays shouldn’t count this year. I laughingly agreed at the time. I agreed because after four months of isolation, lockdowns, masks, distancing and fear, why the heck should anyone’s birthday count against them, in 2020. Then, as I gave it some deep thought, I figure I deserve to celebrate this birthday. I worked hard to get to this date. Of course, I didn’t get to July 19, 2020 alone. Last year, at this time, I was awaiting an appointment with a neurosurgeon and then with a radiation oncologist. Can you believe that? I sure as H E double hockey sticks couldn’t believe it. But, because I wasn’t exactly accepting the reality of the situation, I can’t say I was overly concerned about having a brain tumour. I was a bit ticked-off when I was told what it was, and I was anxious about having an appointment with a surgeon who was going to dig around inside my head. But a referral to a specialist made it real. Right? My biggest concern wasn’t the tumour, but being told, “It’s all in your head. Go home, take a couple of ASAs and call me in a month if you don’t feel better.” As it turned out it was all in my head, the tumour that is. I really and truly had/have a brain tumour which, as it turned out, wasn’t operable. Once appointments were made, I lost track of how many MRIs and CAT scans, stability tests, blood tests, vision tests and appointments I had. In total, LOML and I travelled about 2,500 kilometres for those tests and appointments to follow-up on tests and appointments. Finally, a round of Stereotactic Radiation Surgery was ordered for December— Christmas week to be precise. I worked hard to stay positive and to keep my life as close to normal as possible. Believe it or not, one of my SRS appointments was on Christmas Eve, and the last one was on December 30th. A great way to end 2019. We were glad to see the end of 2019. And, I figured, with the help of LOML, my friends and family, I truly earned that whole year.
On the bright side, this last year has plopped me squarely on a huge learning curve. Post radiation brought nausea, loss of appetite, tumour necrosis, nasty hair and nails—and it brought my anxiety and panic attacks to a whole new level. I can’t think of a time (even when I was studying for my OMA certification and a degree) when I did more research, or took more notes. I’m fairly certain my instructors and professors wouldn’t want to know about this, but it’s true. Every one of them would be impressed with my hard work to understand brain tumours, side effects of radiation and tumour necrosis. Since the diagnosis in 2019, I’ve been on a mission to be informed. And, I am entirely grateful for patient doctors and technicians, access to the Internet and those sites which are designed to deliver good, scientific information. I’m also grateful for the advice, given to me many years ago, about how to research a topic and then extract the information I need from reliable sources. I’ve learned to ask questions, and to take notes, whenever I have a medical appointment.
And so, here I sit, on my birthday, thinking about what crazy-arsed year it’s been. When I thought it couldn’t get any crazier, the whole world got whacked in the kisser by COVID-19. Crazy, for sure, but it has been a blast. Really. I am overwhelmed by the kindness of strangers, of friends and of family. At times their generosity is emotionally overwhelming. Since 2019 I have found out how strong I really am and how great CBD oil really is. I’m impressed because I didn’t curl up into a ball and hide away. Someone, somewhere along the way on this journey, told me dropping out of the action was an option, but I didn’t want to waste a moment of my time.
It’s my birthday. Let those bells ring out and those banners fly. The “kids” called and Skyped and messaged throughout the day. Before breakfast, LOML and I enjoyed a “spiked coffee” and a swim. Life is good. Bring it on. I’ll take on whatever the next year throws my way and I’ll wear a mask while wrestling it to the ground. Bells and banners, folks! Bells and banners.
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