I never thought that the ringing of ears would lead to a 5″ scar, 8 plates in my head and an experience that has left me more humbled and awake than anything to date…
“It’s just a mass…we don’t know what…it’s small…we will just monitor.” That was my life, for 4 years. It became a ritual, almost like a cup of coffee, a morning work meeting, a run around the park…MRI’s every 3 months with a doctor visit. I often wanted to show up to the doctor appointment and be told something had changed…yet never was ready to hear those words when they came.
“It’s taking bloodflow, it has grown, and it’s time to see a neurosurgeon.”
“It’s grown. It appears to be low grade. My recommendation is removal. While not urgent, we should do this in the next 2-3 weeks.”
For someone that acts with urgency, 2-3 weeks felt urgent. For someone that was ready to hear the words, I wasn’t. For someone that is stoic and strong and doesn’t ask for help, I was about to be tested in manners I never dreamed possible.
2-3 weeks. To get affairs in order. Meaning…you only live once. You wake up and go on those morning runs because you don’t know when your next one might be. You embrace being able to speak and write because there is the possibility of having that taken away and needing to relearn it. You tell those close to you what they mean because you may not be able to say it again. You ask for help because for 3-4 weeks you don’t be able to ‘do normal’ and you can’t do this without help.
That morning my Dad picked me up. I had coffee waiting. He dropped me off, like I was going to the airport, I put on my mask, walked in the hospital doors…
Temp. Check. Check. Pre-Op. Check. Signing your life away. Check.
Bright lights. Yellow gown. Pre-surgery exams…felt like I should have re-visited my geometry and biology classes from elementary school beforehand. Last minute text and calls. Three IVs, multiple wrist bands…I wish I was going to a live concert instead right now…load me up, let’s rock and roll.
“Everyone get enough sleep and have enough coffee this morning?” I say with sass and a smile…I meet the team…all 12…though 4 really matter. My surgeon, my ‘flashcard doctor,’ the anesthesiologist, and the head medical assistant who is putting my head in a brace and asking me if I comfortable all the same time.
Numbing commences. I hear the drill. I smell the smells of bone being cracked open. I hide under a tent with my ‘flashcard doc.’ I breathe…I breathe…I breathe…I try to not overthink…I try to act as if I am running miles on trails right now and zone out…
Flashcard time! Yellow star, purple circle, cow, whale, goldfish, black rectangle…oh wait…I know that one…it is…”Back out and go another path” the surgeon says…RED SQUARE! Funny how one wrong move and I could lose my speech…Careful fingers doc…
45 minutes later…vacuum suction sounds…multiple hands and tools…
I keep chatting with the doc for the next hour. Travel, Michigan, Colorado, my education, music, favorite foods, marathons…you name it, we most likely covered it…
“We got it. I think we got it all. Okay Meghan, we are going to start to stitch you back up.”
About an hour later…still awake…lights bright as ever…I’m alive.
The tent comes down, the brace comes off, I am lifted back on the bed…”Nice Work” my doctor says.
The OR doors open…and just like that…the floodgates of tears and emotions come like a raging river. I AM ALIVE. I SURVIVED.
I felt like I had just crossed the biggest finish line of my life…and the adrenaline flowing through my body is something I can’t explain. I felt like I was on a rollercoaster. Alive.
And then my head felt like it was going to explode…4 types of drugs later…and high dose Tylenol did the trick…sort of. The next 3 weeks would be a battle unlike any I had ever fought…tested me in ways I never prepared for…challenged me in facets I didn’t even know I had the strength to overcome.
Patience. Gratitude. Rest. Patience. Gratitude. Rest.
Reminding yourself that even when it feels like eternity it was only a few days, a few weeks, a few months ago…healing takes time.
Consistency matters. Kindness matters. Being seen matters.
The kind notes. The generosity. The reach outs.
I thought I had to go through this alone…and in some senses I did…Yet I am not alone…and my close circle proved that to me through their actions and commitment…My faith showed me that I can lean and entrust…And I proved to myself that anything is possible…you just have to believe and entrust timing never goes at your pace or schedule…
So. I have a new scar. New hairdos. New scarves. New habits.
Updated frame of mind. Updated outlook on life.
And always…Daily gratitude.
You get one life. Truly, sounds cliche, but it is about making the moments in life count not the number of breaths you take. I am lucky that I continue to get both still…breaths and moments to take my breath away. For that, I am eternally grateful.
Awake I am…more than ever before.
