Loss of balance is now the norm. I’ve learned to take a cloth with me so when my hand trails the walls, I won’t leave smudges. When I hand wash dishes, I make sure they’re unbreakable. When I need to remember specifics, I write them down so when I forget them—because I always do—I won’t feel guilty.
Going through brain surgery to remove a ginormous tumor—and living a blessed life afterward—gives me a glimpse of the realization that not everyone is as fortunate as I am.
Without a doubt, I thank God every morning before my feet hit the floor for the opportunity to live one more day. I understand what it’s like to see the possible end of my life come into focus. I understand what comes with looking out into the “ever after”.
I spend a lot of time writing and speaking on the peace that comes with a relationship with Christ–while even having a brain tumor. However, I think we sometimes forget (I know I do) that there may be a process needed to go through to attain complete peace—what is found in the arms of Jesus. Glenda Weldy tells of her period of time caregiving her husband Roger, as he battled a brain tumor. You can find her journey at http://glendaweldy.com/. As I read Chapter 12, my heart broke. Let’s never forget caregivers and the pain they endure.
Survivors of tragedy see the significance of a new day—its beauty and splendor—clearer than others. I say that not to boast, just as an observation. Every morning when I’m in that almost-wake state but not ready to open my eyes, I thank God for giving me the opportunity to welcome another day. I am also cognizant that greeting the day does not guarantee putting it to bed. Years ago a good friend told me of her husband’s passing saying, “You may put your shoes on in the morning, but never know who will take them off at the end of the day.” I thought that was a powerful statement then and it took on even more strength after I was diagnosed with meningioma (tumor on the brain).
I rarely challenge gratitude in my life. I do, however, have times of struggle when it comes to survival’s guilt.
My dog, Oreo, was a master at waiting. But for me, waiting–especially for medical news–is the worst. It’s where you’re stuck in limbo between reality and fantasy. Will test numbers show the tumor’s back or will it still be gone? Will the MRI come back clean or will there be a cloud we need to address? Without a doubt, waiting’s the worst.
I read lots of blogs on lots or different subjects. I comment on some and repost others if I think they are pertinent to the audience that reads my blog.
I’m forwarding the latest post on a blog from Novel Rocket and Kellie Coates Gilbert as she offers sage advice about cyber-security. Times have changed and anyone who is on social media needs to aware. While we’re here to support each other, me must remember that there are cyber bad guys watching. It’s not a time to be paranoid, just informed.
My agent asked me to write a pitch letter for her to use when promoting my memoir, “Ten Days to Live”, recounting when I discovered I had a brain tumor. That seemed easy enough. I started pulling facts together; reasons why people would want to read my book. While researching, I ran across some incredible statistics: Continue reading →