Post Op. Wk. 52

Well Hello There Week 52, day 365, hour something or other. In away it's all a little deja vu.  Working on Alcina again, this time sans brain tumor and debilitating anti seizure meds. Minus the fear that a catastrophic seizure is hiding in the corner just waiting to pounce. So different.

It hardly seems possible that it has been a whole year. One more of everything.  I feel good, mostly, except when my brain is tired, it's really tired.  And suddenly tired.  I can go from 100 to minus 10 in minutes. But again, I'm a year older.  Maybe it's  just age and not brain fatigue.  I'm not sure which one is more disturbing.  Some mild aphasia. A changing but present auditory processing issue. I still sound different in my head than I do on the outside. Talking on the phone is hard. Singing is hard.  The thinking and producing sound together is not automatic.  I think it will be again and with more practice, but it's not fun right now and it makes me feel fuzzy to try too hard. But day to day things, those ordinary extraordinary things are just fine.

Under all my hair ( it's a good thing I have a lot of hair.) there's a sizable dent and a squiggle of lines that I can feel, and screws that sometimes feel out of place. Numb spots and phantom sensations that sometimes wake me up at night.  The thickening around my ear is gone and I can only find the halo marks if I really try.   All in all an A+ recovery.

I feel fortunate to have had the stellar team of medical professionals that took care of my medical needs, the extraordinary generosity of friends from far and near who kept my boys fed and cared for.  Who listened and waited, cleaned, cooked, drove, entertained, prayed, lit candles, came running in the dead of night and generally took over being me for weeks on end.  How did I get so lucky?  Where did they come from?  It's all been amazing in the most spectacular way.

Last year tonight I posted a photo on Facebook of our candles lit.  For me mostly, so I had somewhere to focus.  It took on a life of it's own and became a sort of clearing house of emotions and light and good will.  I returned to it over and over again.  I still do.  I love all those photos and wishes.  From all over, from every aspect of my life.  Near and far and everywhere. Never doubt that a few characters online,  a small gesture, a whispered prayer, can have a profound effect.  I heard those words and watched those candles all the way into the operating room and out. Back to the life that was waiting for me.  Thank you.