It Might Get Real

More than six months ago when I heard the words, "You have a brain tumor," I wasn't prepared. Who is ever prepared to hear something like that? Today I am more prepared. Ready to get this sucker out. Ready to move forward. Ready to live life without thinking, "Oh, I have a brain tumor." It's nerve-wracking to say the least.

But I am getting it out. My surgery date is officially Wednesday, May 4, 2011. That also may be the day I die. Wouldn't that be sad? But just like I prepare to be off work, prepare to have Harrison looked after, prepare to be sick for a bit and have a foggy head, I must also prepare for the worst. Dying.

I haven't always been scared of dying. I used to worry about my nana dying. I prepared my whole life for her dying. Which is kinda sad that I always dreaded it. Guess what!? She did die. I wasn't prepared. It's been 10 years and I am still sad and think about her every day! Now I worry about my mom dying. I worry about my kid dying. I worry about people I love dying. I am a worrier. And I have an abnormal fixation on death and dying. I should probably get some sort of therapy. But I've gone 38 years with little therapy and I've done pretty well (especially given some of the things I've experienced), so why start now.

Dying isn't the only thing I am worried about during the days leading up to brain surgery. Oh MY GOD!!! Brain surgery! That sounds so horrific!

I worry about:

1. Leaving my son alone without a mother and father (that's right - his father has basically said adios - whatever, it's totally his loss ... Harry will be just fine. Digress).

2. Becoming disabled and nutty. I mean, they are chopping on my brain ... this is a genuine concern.

3. Having a spinal fluid leak. It's a real serious complication of the type of brain surgery I am having.

4. Worrying my friends and family.

5. Not being able to close my left eye.

6. Being off work, unpaid and not having money to pay my bills, buy food and pay stupid medical bills. I mean, what if I end up needing one of those fancy Temperpedic beds?

7. And finally I worry about ...




Wait for it ....



I worry about my surgeons screwing up and jacking up my facial nerve and ultimately ...





Wait for it ....




Looking like Mary Jo Buttafucco!!!!

I guess that bitch Amy Fisher shot her right in the facial nerve. But the surgery I am getting can also create this look. I am scared of this. I worry about it. Nearly as much as I worry about dying.

I guess it'd be better than looking like Joey Buttafucco.

I guess I should go ahead and have my stylist give me the Mary Jo.

Bah.

Just yesterday a nice friend said, and I quote, (basically because this type of thing totally boosts my ego and I can come back and read it over and over and over and over [ad nauseam] when I have facial weakness and a frankenscar down my scalp): "I really like your brain and face. A lot."

Here are the positives (and believe it or not, I am really being quite positive — I just feel it necessary to add really obscene humor in order to stay positive [i.e. Mary Jo Buttafucco]):

1. The tumor will be gone after surgery.
2. It's small enough still (1 cm) to warrant a smaller hole in the sub-dermal fascia (hahahaha I totally made up that term, I think) under my skull. A larger tumor would mean the surgeons would have to make a bigger hole under my skull. Luckily, my hole will be small. Huh?
3.  I might recover and be able to go back to work within 3 weeks (give or take).
4. I have THE MOST AMAZING and supportive friends anyone in the entire universe could ask for. Seriously!
5. And the coolest positive of all!!!!! Doc is giving me a simultaneous surgery ... he is going to implant the totally kick ass and awesome Baha Implant!!!!! That means I can hear. Sure, I will have a wicked looking snap thing sticking out of my mastoid bone behind my ear. But I really don't care. I will be able to hear again. Now if that's not positive, I don't know what is.

Last week, Dr. Holly (my (yes, MINE) audiologist) gave me a Baha demo. AND she let me take the simulator home with me. I still have it. It's on a headband and not implanted into my head (obviously) yet. The real thing will be much better, but this simulator is wicked. I will truly have a bionic ear. I am very lucky.

Lookie at how small it is in the video above. Ignore my nail. And ignore the fact that I say that it's the "implant." The implant will be in my head. The thing in the video is the "device."

Here is Dr. Holly. She is very sweet.

I have so much to say - but I have seven weeks to say everything before I die. So, I will post more later. And will post more often leading up to my surgery date.

Thank you all for standing by me, reading and listening to me whinge and babble. I appreciate you.

Tonight my dear friend Sunny has organized a small gathering of my core friends to discuss my surgery, phone trees (that's such an old church lady term), schedules, care, etc.

I'm telling you ... my friends KICK LOADS AND LOADS OF ASS! So, thank you. Just know that when you are in need I will be right there by your side. And that's no joke!

Stay tuned! It might get loud!