Keeping Things Interesting and Lessons in the Journey

So, you know how you get settled into a new routine, and the universe says, “Not so fast!”  Well,I had my second seizure on Friday evening. By the end of it, Brad said there was an ambulance, firetruck and police car out front. Rager at the Meckley's? Nope just Kate raging on the floor. I was sitting on the couch when this one came on and I could feel  myself going - like a separation between my brain and body. Brad said I was kind of blankly looking to him for help. Weird feeling - only second to having a brain biopsy while awake. Poor Brad is going to have ptsd after all of this. Though he was encouraged that I came out of this one faster and he thought my first two days at home have been much more energetic than last time. Though he still forces me to nap and rest. 

Humility

One of the most humbling parts of this journey so far is recognizing my slightly affected cognitive ability. I have always had an easy time connecting with people, speaking in front of a group, generally connecting with other humans. So I find the cognitive disconnect very humbling. I had noticed this slightly before being diagnosed, but it also aligned with the work from home and I passed it off as too many zoom meetings and adjusting to being on camera all of the time. But, now that I know what it is, I'm determined to work through it, so in a large staff zoom meeting, when broken into small groups, when no one else volunteers to report out for our group, I do and I totally botched it :/ I felt bad because our group had such a great discussion and I didnt represent our discussions well at all. I don't often cry but did when I got off the call and Brad asked me how it went. Rationally, I know that once the tumor and swelling reduces, that cognition will come back, but in the moment - it doesn't feel great. That said, it does amp up my empathy for people who struggle with public speaking or meeting strangers (i.e. friends I haven't made yet). A few minutes after this little breakdown, Brad carried back a package from one of my first college friends, I met Aileen at freshman orientation at ONU in the summer of 2000 - when we likely both still owned flip phones. She sadly lost her Dad to an aggressive form of brain cancer last year and has been kindly checking in on me and lending support - she put the sweetest and most expletive-filled care package together in her unique way. And it came at just.the.right.time❤️

Good enough might be enough

Ponytailnot up to your usual standard? Tighten it up and add a stretchy headband.

Put your sports bra inside out? Put on your shirt, if it doesn't show, what's the difference?!

Not fixed yet

We were surprised by this seizure but nothing they've done thus far has made my tumor smaller, so the same thing that caused the last one, caused this one. When they wheeled me in for the CT scan, I tried to bet the tech $1,000 that I had a brain tumor… for some reason, health care workers and those in the OR don't think Im nearly as funny as I do - go figure!

Next steps:

Tuesday is my appointment with the radiation oncologist where I'll get fitted for my battle helmet/mask and hopefully start treatment by the end of the week. Let's start shrinking this sucker! They also put me back on a steroid in the ER though its a higher dose than the oncologist at Duke suggested.Im going to call my main oncologist tomorrow to see if I can adjust the dose. The ER doc was great, but luckily, I was not their most pressing issue - you never want to be that.