Thanksgiving
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| This big guy is getting the ax for Thanksgiving! (The rampicante squash, not Brian) |
Before I get to my gratitude list, I have a couple Thanksgiving-related anecdotes to share:
· Two
weeks after surgery, a friend took me to get my staples removed. We discussed
our plans for Thanksgiving, which for both of us meant a trip to our hometown
of Eau Claire, Wisconsin. I mentioned that I was feeling so good that I was
considering going to Chicago the day after to visit a friend who had just
returned from Portugal. When Brian & I celebrate Thanksgiving with his side
in Illinois, we stay in Chicago at the historic Palmer House, which usually has
crazy-cheap rates that weekend and is beautifully decorated for the holidays. I
suggested that my friend could come with us, too. She was totally up for it,
though she said, “Let’s see how you feel.” I was so excited by this plan that I
emailed our Chicago friend the next day to make sure he’d be around. The day
after that, I decided to run the plan by my husband, the person who would
actually be driving me there. [You can already see a problem with my thinking,
no?] He said that he personally did not feel prepared to go to Chicago so soon.
Then he added, “You do realize that Thanksgiving is less than a week away,
don’t you? It’s in just a few days.” Ah, no, I hadn’t realized that. I thought
I still had another week or so. I’m totally not ready for such a trip. My
friend later said, “Yeah, I thought your plan sounded half-baked.” Lesson for craniotomates: You may think
you’re functioning normally, but even 2-3 weeks out (or more—I’m only at 3),
you’re still a bit dopey. Your friends know this, even if you don’t.
· My
family is celebrating Thanksgiving in Eau Claire potluck-style to take the
burden off my elderly parents. I said I’d bring Brussels sprouts, possibly a
squash dish (I still have tons from my garden), and maybe even something with
cranberries. As I get easily distracted, on Monday night I put my two excellent
squash cookbooks (Smitten with Squash,
The Classic Zucchini Cookbook) on the coffee table, along with my loose
recipe folder. Tuesday afternoon I had been feeling perky, but the moment I
started to flip through one of the cookbooks, I felt exhausted and had to lie
down. There’s too much executive function processing required to select recipes.
After a brief bit of shut-eye, I tried a new approach: I grabbed the B-section
of the loose recipes and pulled out all of the Brussels sprouts ones without
evaluating them.
I have so much to be thankful for this year that it’s
hard for me to write this post without crying. (Keppra may have something to do
with that, but I prefer to think it’s mostly non-chemically-induced gratitude.)
These are the things for which I am thankful, in no particular order:
1. My
brain tumor was small, benign, located in a low-pain area, and easily removed.
The patient before me when I went to my second-opinion appointment was a man in
his 30s. His tumor was not benign. Surgery will not be the end of the story for
him. He will have to deal with his brain tumor for the rest of his life – and
that life may now be greatly shortened. It is hard to feel justified in having
any complaints (and I don’t have many) when tragedies like that happen to so
many.
2. My
neurosurgeon Dr. Mullan and the entire surgical and nursing staff at Abbott
Northwestern were top-notch. Competent, friendly, willing to answer all our
many questions. [Brian, at the meeting with Dr. Mullan: “Will she need to
protect that area of her head thereafter? Will it be weaker?” Dr. Mullan: “No,
the bone flaps are secured with titanium, so it’s quite strong. If you hit her
in the head with a hammer, the cut area will be just as strong as the rest of
the skull.” Me: “We will not be testing that theory.”]
3. I
have decent health insurance. Medical problems are the leading cause of
bankruptcy in the United States. Too many people have to choose between getting
adequate healthcare and paying rent or feeding their kids. Some people in my
position would’ve had to go back to work sooner than medically recommended
because they just can’t take that long off of work. I am very fortunate.
4. I
have a wonderful support network. My friends arranged a meal train to keep
Brian and me fed for the first two weeks after surgery. It was soooo helpful,
and we hadn’t realized just how much we really needed that support. My older
sister helped keep Brian company during the surgery and was there when I woke
up with a pan of Special K bars. My friend Jen took me to get my staples out
and took me to lunch. Other friends took me for lunch, for a walk, and out to
buy groceries when I couldn’t drive. My Facebook friends—yes, you—offered
virtual hugs and support that buoyed my spirits.
5. Because
my surgery was so easy, I have been able to enjoy the experience, as much as one can under the circumstance. This has been an interesting ride, and it’s not over yet. If I were in
pain or worried about finances, this would be an entirely different story—one
of suffering. It is not, so therefore I’m able to regard it as a fascinating
excursion into the brain. My neurological and
cognitive impairments are temporary, so I’m able to regard them with interest,
not fear. For people with TBIs, mental health issues, or other non-normative
neural conditions, this is their life. I have a renewed and deeper sense of
compassion for them.
6. Brian.
Love and gratitude too profound for words.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
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| Another being with an unattractive head that is also feeling lucky to be alive |
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