As a mom my health has become secondary.  I took Logan to the doctor’s and the secretary said “I can’t remember if we are seeing both of you, or just Logan today.”  I said well since you asked I do have a question for the doctor, can he see us both?  That is how this whole situation started.  I though that I had a simple little question about a couple of random head pains.  From the Doctor’s initial reaction I could tell that maybe it was a little more serious than I thought, and he ordered a CT scan.

Fast forward 6 weeks, and I find myself back in the same office.  But now I know that I have a brain tumor, and surprisingly my doctor has no clue.  How on earth is that even possible you ask?  Well my CT scan came back while my GP was on vacation, and his locum called me in for a follow-up.  As luck would have it another patient was having a baby during my appointment time and he cancelled my appointment to deliver a baby.  It was sort of a good thing because I would have found out about Timmy the Tumor on Friday March 13th.  Since we all know that bad things happen on Friday the 13th it would have been quite fitting, but it really would have freaked me right out.  It was also the day before Sasha’s 6th birthday party and I would have been a disaster.

My appointment was rescheduled for the next week, and was cancelled again when the locum had the flu (for the entire week).  I get it you see sick people all day, but honestly there is a thing called a flu shot, maybe as a doctor you should get one.

So after two cancelled appointments my GP is back from vacation and has no clue why I am here to see him.  After I inform him that I am here because I have a brain tumor, he panics.  I have a book filled with questions but he can’t seem to get past the diagnosis.  He is clearly in shock.  Maybe it’s because he knows that I have kids, maybe it’s because I have been his patient for 7 years, maybe it’s because he has never had to tell someone that they have a brain tumor.  Or maybe it’s because this is totally freaking serious.  I quickly realize that this situation isn’t good.  I take control of the appointment and get the answers to the questions I have.  I am calmer than the doctor, and I am the one with the brain tumor.

I was hoping that the visit to the doctor would ground me a bit more, that I might find a sense of peace about the situation.  But I left shaking my head.  I am not worried about my care, I will advocate for my best interest.  I feel like I have a couple of the best secret weapons in my back pocket.  When I got the initial diagnosis standing in the emergency department hallway, I didn’t panic.  I planned.  And I asked for help.  I called the person that I knew would be able to give me the straight goods.  My sister-in-law is a fancy type of doctor who has been an incredible resource for us.  If you are reading this Sanja, thank you, thank you, thank you. I don’t even have words to express the gratitude I have.  I think the scariest part of this whole thing is not knowing what’s going to happen next.  It gives me tremendous “piece of mind” to know that there is someone that is super knowledgeable a phone call away.  As I mutter my way though the medical system I am confident that I will get the care I need because I will demand it.

But here is a lesson to all of the parents out there that don’t make time for themselves, who fit in their needs around those of their children, make the time.  You are important too.  Your kids need you to be healthy so you can take care of them.  If you have been putting off a doctor’s appointment because it’s just not convenient, do us both a favour and make that appointment.

This blog post isn’t about making anything, except the best of a bad situation.  I feel like I have been challenged far beyond my means.  I feel like I am tackling a mountain.  The climbing will be tough, but once I reach the peak I hope like hell that the road to recovery will be easy.

Two weeks ago I wasn’t feeling great, I ended up going to emergency.  I have never been to emergency before, and it’s not a very nice place, especially if you are sick.  I was having some pretty specific abdominal pain, and after a call to the nurse line I was convinced that it might be in my best interest to take a trip to the hospital.  Without totally freaking out my husband and kids I suggested that maybe we head over to the hospital, my kids were convinced that we were all going out to dinner.  I want you to picture me in my jammies, hoodie, with a bowl (just in case) leaving the house, I was not at my best.  Either my children aren’t too observant or they are just clueless, but honestly I have never been to a restaurant in my jammies, never.  When we arrive at the hospital the kids are running around in emergency, and I am half asleep waiting my turn in the “red chairs”.  At some point it was decided that I would be better off on my own, and that was in fact the case.  My husband and the kids did in fact go out for dinner.  Only after Logan announced that he wanted to be a Doctor, and hey maybe that will happen.

Skip forward about 4 hours, after being poked, prodded, and drugged I casually asked the ER Doc if he could check on a CT scan that I had at the hospital earlier in the month.  He said sure he would review it, and let me know what it said.  I got dressed in my fancy jammie dinner pants and met him at the computer terminal.  Still on my own, as my husband was waiting for the sitter to arrive so he could come back and claim me.  Standing in the hallway of emergency I heard the words that no one ever wants to hear, EVER.  Words that I hope will haunt me for a long, long time……YOU HAVE A BRAIN TUMOUR.

Excuse me come again, did you give me a hallucinogen?  Because I swear that you just told me that I have a brain tumour.  This is one of those times when he should have said, here sit down, I have some bad news for you.  But no, standing in the hallway of emergency surrounded by medical people, and sick people I heard a bunch of medical terms which equate to “you have a brain tumour”.  The ER Doc sort of explained the situation, at least enough that I had some notion of what was going on. I then shuffled out of emergency alone and sat.

I called my husband and told him that I was done.  He asked what was wrong?  So I told him that I went into the hospital with abdominal pains, and I am leaving with a brain tumour.  What the freaking hell?  I though the worst thing that might happen tonight was getting my appendix out, but right now that sounds like a dream.  The abdominal pains are suspected to have been from a cyst that burst, no biggie.

So here I am waiting in the ultimate test of patience.  The next step is seeing my family Dr, who will start the ball rolling as I will need some more tests, and a neurosurgeon.  My hope is for a benign tumour which is easily operable resulting in no long-term complications.  It might seem like a crazy hope to have, but I really want to wish for the best of a bad situation.