The Universe Responds

Everyday I end my meditation by saying, “I surrender and I trust that the universe is working out the details “………

In 2013, I had my regular appointment with my oncologist to get the results of my latest MRI. He recommended I have radiation in hopes it would reduce the size of the tumour and frequency of the seizures. I liked the idea of having less seizures but I wasn’t keen on radiating my brain. In the not so distant past, I was at the clinic getting intravenous vitamin C when a frail elderly gentleman came in. His family sat him in a chair and left. I watched him as he stood up and sat down several times. He looked utterly confused and tried to walk out. He had no idea what was going on. The nurses had their hands full taking care of him. I noticed his head looked burned so I asked one of the nurses if he had radiation on his brain. She nodded her head and I thought about myself. I asked myself, “What if I ever got to that point, would I do it?” After noticing the worried look on my face, the nurse reassured me that everyone responds differently, but seeing this man left a very negative impression on me.

The radiation oncologist informed me that radiation is risk free, other than losing my hair, short term memory loss which gets worse over time and possible blindness. He reassured me, “he never blinded anyone before me and didn’t plan on making me his first.” As much as I love my doctor, it was a sad attempt at humour and sounded like he had said it to every patient before me. He could see my apprehension and told Marcus and I to think about it. That day I had three seizures because of the stress of  the thought of having radiation, it just didn’t feel like the right thing to do at that time.

I wanted to hear the opinions of other doctors. I spoke with my neurologist, he said I should do it. I spoke to my naturopath, he said I should do it and I knew Marcus felt strongly that I should do it. So, ignoring my inner voice, I reluctantly agreed.

During my next appointment, I was prepared to tell the doctor I was going to go ahead with the radiation. I opened my mouth to speak and he stopped me. He told me there was something new on the table. Marcus and I looked at each other surprised and confused. I had already gone through chemotherapy and as far as I knew, radiation was my only other option.  He told us, after almost five years of being told my tumour was inoperable, surgery was a possibility.

My heart fluttered and I blurted out, “YES!” He told us to go home and sleep on it but I knew without a doubt this was what I was waiting for, this was why radiation didn’t feel right at that time. Marcus had several questions but I wasn’t even listening to their conversation. Not once did I ask about the risks involved, it didn’t matter. Maybe ignorance is bliss but my inner voice was saying yes, this was it. I trust my intuition, I had no fear and knew without a doubt that I would be okay.

My neurosurgeon had retired several months earlier which wasn’t a concern for me because I was told my tumour was inoperable. I often wondered why I even had a neurosurgeon if he couldn’t do anything for me and found my appointments for the past five years with him a waste of time. What I didn’t know until that day I was about to reluctantly agree to radiation was, there was a new neurosurgeon at the cancer clinic. Angels were working for me that day because a neuro oncologist named Dr. Torres, a man I had never met before, picked up my MRI scan and saw a tiny bit of growth at the bottom of my tumour, something several radiologists had completely missed, hence the increase in seizures. Dr. Torres took it upon himself to take my scan to the new neurosurgeon and asked him, “Is there anything you can do for this patient?” I don’t know if it was because of new technology or because Dr. Ready, the new neurosurgeon, was younger or more experienced in brain surgery, but he looked at my MRI and said yes!

I met with Dr. Ready a few weeks later. He was very quiet and serious, didn’t smile once. He did the usual neurological exam on me which consists of checking my reflexes, strength and movement. I tried to break the ice with him as I sat on the table and told him he had come very highly recommended by several doctors, which was true. He replied, “Really? Everyone around here thinks I’m an asshole!” I loved him from that moment on.

He took Marcus and I to the big room where all the doctors have their desks and confer. Dr. Ready put my scan up on a lit background. He explained the procedure to us. It was going to be an awake craniotomy, meaning I was going to be awake during the procedure. He showed us the part of the tumour he believed he could safely remove, about sixty percent. Imagine the tumour as a plumb, he would remove as much as possible from the centre, leaving the outside. I asked him if I would be awake while he cut my scull open. With no emotion he replied, “Yes, that’s the painful part, but you won’t remember it. You’ll be given an amnesia drug.” At that point I felt a little faint and grabbed the edge of a table to support me. I didn’t realize it until then that we were surrounded by a large group of doctors and nurses. It seemed everyone was fascinated by Dr. Ready and what he had to say.

My surgery was scheduled for September, a full year since the seizures had started again. I don’t remember being afraid, as far as I was concerned, the day couldn’t come soon enough. My appointment was on a Friday, early in the morning. A few days earlier, I sat Tristan on my lap and explained to him that I was going to have an operation to remove some of the tumour and I would be in the hospital for a few days. I told him he would stay with Sonja because Marcus was going to be with me. I tried to be strong but my heart was breaking as the tears started rolling down his cheeks. I don’t remember him asking questions, the only thing I remember were his arms around my neck and his face buried under my chin. He was trying to be brave but I could see the worry in his eyes.

The big day finally arrived. We woke up and were on the road, so early it was still dark outside. It was a quiet ride, not much was said. When we got to the hospital parking garage, we had to drive over several speed bumps. One of the bumps had triggered a seizure. I was trying my best to relax through the episode, hoping it would pass as Marcus continued to drive and go over more speed bumps. Eventually I said in frustration, “Do you think you can pull over!” It wasn’t a question. He did pull over and eventually the seizure subsided. It wasn’t until much later I was told, if I had a seizure during the operation, they would have to stop everything immediately and the surgery would be over. It was then that I realized Marcus was relieved that I had the seizure in the parking garage and didn’t want to stop driving in hopes that I would get it out of my system and hopefully not have another one on the operating table.
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I was checked in and prepped. When it was time to go to the operating room, my parents, sisters, two sister-in-laws and my niece were there to support both myself and Marcus. How blessed are we? As I laid on the gurney I said my goodbyes, got lots of kisses and Marcus and I were off to the operating room. They stopped just outside the door and my body trembled uncontrollably. The anesthesiologist explained the procedure to us. She spoke so quickly, I couldn’t keep up. When she was done speaking I heard her say, “Do you understand what I explained to you?”  I thought it was a funny question because I had no idea what she had just said, but I nodded my head because I didn’t want her to say it again.

Marcus held my hand the entire time outside of the operating room. When the nurse told us it was time to go and for us to say our goodbyes, I got emotional. At that moment, Dr. Ready came from behind me with a big smile on his face, something I hadn’t seen before. He put his hand on my leg and excitedly said, “Ready for the big day?” He then looked at my face and saw I was crying. He instantly took his hand off me, put his poker face back on and walked away. It’s almost as though it’s easier for him, as a surgeon, to just see me as a brain, not a human being with emotions. I don’t blame him, he had a job to do.

I wasn’t afraid, but saying goodbye and letting go of Marcus’s hand was so difficult. I can’t even begin to imagine what was going on in his mind. We held on to each other to the very last possible second, then they rolled me in the cold operating room….

Namaste

Linda??

P.S.  Happy Birthday Marcus ❤️