Energy, boundless energy. That is what I had before December 2, 2012, the day I had back-to-back grand mal seizures. The seizures set off a journey that led to the diagnosis of a left frontal lobe meningioma the size of the doctor’s fist. I never truly knew tired before that day.
I was lucky. They were able to remove it the following month. So many things happened that make me believe that. My meningioma was a grade II Atypical. After my craniotomy in January 2013, I took the time to recover but went back to work. Outside of being tired from the anti-seizure medicine I took I felt pretty good. I was grateful to be alive and feeling such peace and happiness from my renewed relationship with God. I was invigorated with a new passion for life and serving others.
While the meningioma was not cancerous, it had a better than average chance of recurrence—and it did. October 14, 2014 I had the gamma knife procedure. It was supposed to be a one-day procedure followed by just a little time to recuperate. Compared to what I had been through with the craniotomy the year before, this was to be a piece of cake! But October 15th I suffered two back-to-back seizures and have experienced a seizure every few weeks since then.
Again, I’m lucky to be alive. I have people in my life who can take care of me, but I’m so tired.
The law where I live is that a person who has had a seizure cannot drive until their seizures have been under control for at least six. That will make it a year until I can drive again, assuming I have no more seizures since the once I had this past week.
I used to care about that. “It’s my independence”, I would say. Now my focus has changed—I just want to stop having seizures. Every one brings an extreme fatigue, and then the doctor increases a medicine, and that brings more fatigue.
My life is so different from six months ago. I go to bed early to get enough sleep. I avoid stress. I don’t have the energy to do things I used to. I know any little change to my routine can cause a seizure—which in itself causes anxiety attacks. I spend the weeks adjusting to a new or increased anti-seizure medicines. The doctors believe all this is the result of some swelling from the gamma knife. They think it will get better, they just don’t know when.
I’m sure it will get better. I know God will take care of me. I wonder though what message He is trying to give me. It’s easy to reflect back to the beginning of this journey and see the messages He was giving me then—focus more on family and work-life balance. Money and materialistic objects don’t matter. So many people need more than I do. I know God—not me—is in charge of my life.
What is my message now? Could it be slow down even more, take better care of myself, know who really cares about me? I don’t know yet. But I do know that whatever the message is He will make it clear when the time is right. And I know that things will get better, even if it isn’t a kind of better I think it should be.
Over the past few months God has been showing me that He knows what is right for me and what my purpose on this earth is. I can’t make plans and change that—I don’t even want to try. Who am I, a sinful human to think I know better than God?
And so I pray—and wait—for his guidance, and maybe for an end to the fatigue. After all, I am only human.
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