My Meninges

In 2013, I laughed until my stomach was sore, I danced until I couldn't feel my feet, I drank until threw up (don't  judge, I know you've been there), I rekindled friendships and started new ones, and I learned a lot about myself…but like any other year, it had some low points.

One day, late July, I had planned to meet some friends at a Jays game; after about an hour of driving through typical rush hour traffic, I found myself sitting on the side of the Gardiner Expressway sporting my brand new Jays shirt, watching a road crew clean up the ruins of the accident that had  just left my poor Chevy Malibu smooshed against the guard rail, and waiting for the emergency vehicles to arrive at the scene.  Luckily, the 3-car demolition derby didn't cause any physical damage to the people involved, so as always, Super Dad was there in a flash to rescue me (despite the interruption to his afternoon golf game). Needless to say, I missed the game.

The next day, I went to the hospital with shooting pains in my neck and was told  that I had whiplash and inflammation in my neck.  After lots of physio and massage therapy, my headaches (thought to be from the inflammation) were not going  away, so, back to the doctor I went.  A CT scan was scheduled and the doc sent me off with the encouraging words "I'm sure they won't find anything, it's just precautionary", to which my brothers agreed, that there probably wasn't anything up there at all.  Little did I know, that CT scan was not only going to reveal that I do indeed have a brain, but that there was even more to it than I bargained for...Bonus!

On September 6th (Momma Nagtzaam's birthday and the day after my CT scan), I was called into my doctor's office and advised to bring someone with me…too stubborn to recruit supporters, I went alone…

That day I was diagnosed with a Meningioma brain tumour on the outer meningeal layer of my left parietal lobe (or, in layman's terms: a slow growing, benign tumour on the membrane surrounding my brain, pressing against the area that controls visual perception, speech, spatial orientation, information processing, pain and touch sensations, and basically all the motor functions of the right side of my body).  After getting the news, I was shaken, like any normal person would be, and it quickly became clear why the receptionist had told me to bring someone along.  Luckily for me, my best friend rose up to the title and was immediately by my side.

Since that day, there continues to be ongoing research on my diagnosis (by myself, friends, and family).  Of course there were many tears shed and difficult conversations had, but with my friends and family, it wasn't long before the comic relief set in.  The Kindergarten Cop references are ever-flowing; cue your best Arnold Schwarzenegger impression...

I try to use it as an excuse for my selective hearing, or my failure to remember to do something I  was asked (yes, being 23 & living with my parents  means I'm still doing chores) "sorry I forgot to do the dishes…my tumour must be affecting my memory", or "don't yell at me, I have a tumour!" although, it rarely  gets me off the hook.

But all jokes aside, my diagnosis hasn't been all bad; it's made me realize how lucky l am to be surrounded by such amazing people. The overwhelming support and love I receive on a daily basis is absolutely inspiring. I've learned that a positive light can be shone on even the darkest of situations, if you let it.

So, my unsolicited advice to you is, SMILE!  Be thankful for your loved ones, your health, your life in general. Things could ALWAYS be worse!