So, has everyone gotten over the shock from yesterdays little bombshell?
I still haven’t. Not sure I ever will.
Well, after I spilled the beans, it was as though mini chaos insued.
You see nobody in the family, that I or my parents know of, have had brain issues. I’m the first and hopefully last. So, needless to say, we cried. I cried for a majority of the afternoon and night. The man tried to make me feel better. He looked on the positive side.
It didn’t really work. I’m still terrified and cried.
So after talking to a friend who happens to be a neurosurg resident, I decided on a doctor. Which is where the hurry and wait comes into play. I called his office the moment I woke up. Nobody answered. So I babbled a message, then started writing this. That’s when the call came back.
I have my first neuro appointment tomorrow afternoon. I have no idea what to expect. More testing? Another MRI? Straight to surgery talk? Radiation? Chemo? What’s in store for me and my ailing brain?
What’s in store for my hair! Yes, I’m scared of losing my hair too. I’ve already started looking into head scarves by the off-chance my head is shaved or I go bald from radiation. How sick am I going to get? Am I going to wake up in the middle of the night and just barf my guts out? Will I still be able to work? Be a mom? Cook? Bake? Go for walks and to the park?
Will I still be supermom? Or am I going to be the bystander that needs saving now?
I am anxious to have my concentration back. As selfish as this sounds, I want to get back to my writing. I want to continue weaving my wild stories. I want to keep following my dream.
Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.