Tuesday, June 24, 2008

"The unexamined life is not worth living." Socrates


(This is a picture of me in December of 2007, learning to walk again.)
Oddly enough, when facing death head-on, a gift is blessedly bestowed. When I first heard the words that would change my life, "You have a brain tumor", instantly I began replaying my life in my head... I was thinking of all the things that I have done and have not done and wanted to do...


During the first couple months of my diagnosis and surgery, I was strangely optimistic. Maybe I was in such shock and that was my way to get through the rough times I was faced with. I remember thinking that I had just as much of a chance to die as I had to live, and, at the time, I was okay with that. But I lived and time has marched on and my own thoughts and dreams have become my enemies...


Now when I think of death, I think of all that comes with it. I find myself waking up at night totally worried about who will notify friends that I have made on this blog and support groups on-line. Or I worry that I have only picked out 1 song to be sung at my funeral (and how many songs should be picked anyway). Or I worry if my husband will know all the things to do for life insurance. But mostly, I worry about my two kids. I worry what will happen to them and if they'd be okay.


It wouldn't be any stretch of the imagination to say that the worry that I face brings with it sadness and/or depression. People have said that anyone can die tomorrow. Maybe a car wreck could take you out. That's true enough I suppose, but that doesn't ease my fears... If I was in a car wreck, I wouldn't have time to wonder about death!


When I was a kid I used to play a little game with my friends in which we'd wonder aloud if we wanted to die suddenly or slowly and how we would like to die. Remembering that does sound a little morbid, but of course at the times of those renderings we really thought we were invincible and we'd live forever.


Still I wonder... Dying suddenly seems to be easier... Sickness and a painful death forces you to look into the soulless eyes of death every single day.


For the most part, I think that I am positive. I know that I am guilty of the "why me's". Just yesterday I was sad because we've sold my car to further cut down on our expenses. I felt that selling my car was just another thing this tumor has stolen from me. However, instead of focusing on the negative - I have to remind myself to think of the positive. Yes, I've had to sell my car, but you know what? I am able to stay home and get better right now. Financially, we're tight, but it's not impossible. For some people, not having an income would be completely unrealistic. Besides that, at least I'm now able to drive again!!! It wasn't too long ago that I couldn't even drive at all!


Realistically, this tumor has forced me to look at issues that everyone should deal with anyway. Everyone should have a living will. Everyone should have open discussion with their loved ones about funeral arrangements. Everyone should keep affairs (like life insurance) in order. Everyone should decide whether or not to be kept alive by feeding tubes or ventilators. Maybe those are questions that I'm having to answer, but they should be answered regardless.


As for things that I have not done and want to do, I'm not dead yet!! Sure, some days my head is throbbing in pain or I have a hard time processing and feel "dumb", but some days are good days. Right now, there are lots of things that I physically can't do right now. That stinks, but there's still plenty of things that I can do. I can spend all afternoon casually blowing bubbles with my kids. Not worrying about a thing. Just blowing bubbles... Doesn't that sound great?


I don't know the number of my days, but I do know that I want my life to have meant something to someone. And that's how I'll live it... Regardless...



1 comment:

Anonymous said...

hi jessica! I too had one of those annoying tumors between my brainstem and cerebellum. not driving yet but soon... keep up the good work!
-eric