Tomorrow I will finally have the benign meningioma, aka little-gray-ball-of-dirty-laundry, in my left temporal lobe area removed. I have been busy all day preparing, and that might seem obvious to some, and mundane to others. This is the thing. How we prepare really matters, I think.
It's not like I haven't gone to dark places with this episode of the brain tumor. I have. Believe me. I've gone all the way to imagining my death, wondering if there is any reason to stay in this world. One cannot help it maybe when facing the prospect of having one's skull opened up and exposing one's brain to somethings it was never designed for in the first place. I even went to the dark side this week, and then I saw a squirrel gnawing away on a tree branch, and from the looks of the tree branch it looked like it had been doing a lot of gnawing for a while. It's been a bitter cold winter with lots of ice, and if I recall the acorns were not quite as abundant last summer as they've been in other summers because we got our rains late, after the blossoms had come and gone.
So, I thought about preparing for things, and how squirrels seem to get through these times by hook or crook, gnawing trees if they have to do it. I thought about how worried that would make me, and that led me to think about worry and how destructive it has been in my life at times. It causes me to give up sometimes before I've even begun because I might not have thought of something, planned well enough, or hadn't had the resources to thrive. Sure enough all that worrying kept me so stuck that there are times I've made no progress at all for it. But this time is different. I'm having my skull opened up and my brain exposed and I cannot afford it. I cannot afford to worry about any sort of outcomes other than doing really well.
I'll tell you why. I can only plan for one outcome because that's all the energy I have. I'm now on the full course of anti-seizure medication and after years of getting by on six or fewer hours of sleep a night, I'm now sleeping 13 hours a day! I have my kids, my dog and my dear husband counting on me to pull through. I can only plan for the very best. So, that's what I've been preparing for for days, maybe even weeks, and it may seem like I have a screw loose to those who would rather I take the implications of all of this seriously when I laugh giddily and say I feel like "I'm going to Disneyland!"
In fact, I do feel like I'm going to Disneyland. I've got a good feeling about this surgery. I have studied enough about the brain to know that while my Left Brain is under duress my Right Brain will be given an opportunity to show me another way of seeing things, and that the Right Brain is, well, friendlier, much more like Disneyland in reality than something more serious. I have sent out requests to the ethers. I'd like to communicate with my guides, my angels, my Temple, people who I've missed. I'd like to see what peace feels like for a little bit even. But, even if I just sleep through the whole experience and wake up without a benign meningioma and a funky scar and a really bad haircut, that's okay with me. It's a win-win situation going on here.
I want to take a moment to thank everyone for your support up to this shining moment. I'd like to especially thank my family for their patience with my evolution through the last four and half months. I'm humbled, truly, by everyone's efforts and wisdom and openness to going through this with me. I have a meal train page, if anyone would like to help locally with meals, and I don't know how to get there. I'll try to figure that out next week, because I'll be able to do that. I have one last request: Tomorrow at 9 am - 4 pm MST send tranquil, serene, blue thoughts my way and I'll know what to do with them. THANKS! See you soon!