Looking Back Over a Year

Another birthday.

Looking Back Over a Year
Image created via Midjourney

I've been fighting a seasonal illness for more than a week. Let me tell you, feeling sick while your body also doesn't feel like its normal self is awful. 

It started with a sore throat last Friday. Saturday was my birthday, but I spent most of the day lying in bed with a sore throat. 

On Sunday, I felt better (thankfully). We had tickets to see the Broadway production of The Lion King. I bought the tickets long before I found out that I had a brain tumor. They were a gift to myself (and the family) for my birthday weekend. But if purchasing had been a post-surgery decision, I probably wouldn't have bought them. 

But since we had the tickets, I decided to go. I've seen The Lion King on stage before, back in 2008. I figured if sitting in the theater became unbearable, I could go back to the car. It ended up being ok. My neck was sore by the end, but I enjoyed the show. 

Throughout the week, I had an array of cough and congestion symptoms. Nothing too terrible, but they have prevented me from sleeping well at night. 

I desperately wish I could flip over and slip on my left side. I haven't slept on my left side since before my surgery. My body is stiff, and it's frustrating.

It's now been a week since my birthday. Last year, I had no idea that I had a brain tumor, even though it had taken up residence years ago. I wasn't experiencing any symptoms. The kids were all doing well, and I was plugging along in my solo business.

Now I sit here typing, with medical tape covering one side of my glasses since I have double vision. The top of one of my fingers is still numb, so it feels weird when I type on the keyboard. My smile is about 80% back. I can't fully turn my neck. And half of my skull feels like it's under constant pressure.

But I'm here. It could have been much worse. And I expect that next year will be much better.

When Birthdays are Reminders
This year, I studied the photos taken in the hospital right after Quentin was born.
If you’d like to support my work as a writer (and my brain surgery recovery), you can buy me a coffee.