So remember those tumor moments? Well, I do. How do I remember? Well the thing is I think they are becoming more frequent. Or maybe, as some are pushing me to believe, I am just more in tune to them. Either way, shit is happening all up and down my world. I am like one walking tumor moment, head to toe.
Let’s start with sleeping, no big deal right? Wrong. I originally heard the tinnitus in my ears while in bed. I even tried to convince myself that it was some kind of a noise coming from my bedroom since I only ever heard it when I laid down in there. Well, it is still there and now it is accompanied by the occasional dizzy spell. How a person has dizzy spells while laying down, I have no idea. It’s like I am in a perpetual drunken state with the spins… So, while I was sleeping, fighting myself for the covers, I SLAMMED my head into my bedside table. Boy, what a tumor moment!
I routinely walk into walls while coming down narrow hallways. TUMOR MOMENT! Walking in a straight line? That is a thing of the past. Today I even walked to school with my shoes on the wrong feet…tumor moment? I don’t know if being generally confused about getting dressed was one of the symptoms, but I am going to roll with it.
I could sit here all day and list the moments that take my breath away, not because they are romantic and heartening, but because they are just so damn shocking, I can’t believe it is my life. I would list them all, but there are too many. They’ve begun to blur together. They don’t mean as much one by one and in aggregate they are proof of my need for a new normal. I am watching my body slowly revolt against me. I tell my eyes where to look but they betray me. I tell my feet where to go, but they betray me. I tell my pain to abate, but it betrays me. My mind, my body, they don’t belong to me anymore. I am bearing witness to the deterioration of a strong body. I have to hold on to walk down the stairs. I have to be mindful of what I drink and eat because the nausea is always right below the surface. I have to be mindful of things that never should have to matter. Generally it is scary, but I laugh about it, even when there is no one looking, even when it is just me, laughing alone. The lonely clown.
So what else is going on? Well, generally I am a cranky bitch. Yup. I’ve pretty much lost my motivation. It is that time of the semester that things begin to wane anyway but for me, instead of late nights working through the desire to give up, I am just giving up. Not outwardly. I go to class. I read just enough to keep up but I’ve lost my honest motivation to engage the material. I was the person who read, looked up everything in the readings, then re-read. Now, we’re lucky if I read at all. If I skim. I’m too tired. From what? I have no idea. I sleep when I don’t have answers to avoid attacking the people around me who are trying to love me. I draw lines around myself, around my heart. It’s too little too late, I think to myself. Where were you when I had nothing wrong with me? Why could you not emote then? Why is it that we leap to each other’s aide in emergency? Is this even an emergency? Is it even trouble? It’s fine, right? I’m fine. I think I’m fine.
I think I am fine and then I get up and fall backwards in my chair. People chuckle as a utter my new motto, “ACT CASUAL!” I don’t feel that casual. My body is slowly disintegrating under me. I have abandoned my healthy diet and thinking, propelling myself forward with candy and sweets, thinking, on the off chance I die, I may as well enjoy what I have while I am here. It’s really just pathetic. I know I’m not dying. But I don’t have the strength to fight my body, my heart, my mind and worry about appeasing the people around me. I don’t have the answers. I don’t know why I am mad. I just am.
Though I am walking around harboring anger I do have fun most days. I am laughing my way through this process and honestly most days the laughter reaches my heart. It absorbs into me. It lifts me up. Makes me recognize my luck, my life and my never ending ability to just act casual.
I think I know why I am so all over the place… why? Oh you want to know? Ok then. Surgery is set. I go in December 20th to get mah brain chopped open. NBD. I got this. But I didn’t realize having the date set would make it IMPOSSIBLE to think of anything else. I didn’t realize that now my minutes are consumed with thinking of what it will feel like, what it will be like and how I will heal. It’s just official now. Logistically, I’ll finish my finals, hopefully well, and then I will send them off into the ethos. I’ll head to Arizona shortly thereafter, preparing for 2 days of pre surgery poking and prodding, which will hopefully normalize this process so that my heart doesn’t stop the day of surgery. I’ve already asked Jason to make sure no one kills me on accident and he has promised to kick their asses if they try, so we’ve got all of our bases pretty much covered.
I dunno, I think I need to work out more but I did so many jumping lunges I can barely feel my legs. Whoops. So I sleep. Tired or not, to avoid being alone with these incessant thoughts. It’s not at all restful. It’s actually quite the waste of productive time. But I have always done well with time pressure. So, logically, if I spend all day sleeping, and wake up just before things are due, I have set up ideal working circumstances. This is just really smart. I am just really smart.
I don’t really know what to say. This is just a stream of consciousness post. There is not really any kind of moment of uplift or substantial lesson. Just a recognition that this is real. It’s official. It’s happening. And there is nothing to be said about it, it is what it is. In the meantime I will take advantage of what my brother tells me is the “Street Cred” that comes with having a brain tumor. I’m legit. Don’t mess with me. I got street cred.
Peace and Love always – Samira