This is a funny prompt, only because due to my deep depression I have struggled a lot with brushing my teeth. TMI? Sorry. Realtalk? – You bet.
A few years ago I finally made the move to an electric toothbrush and I haven’t looked back since.
AND, while I could go on and on about mouth problems and CS (but I won’t), I will say that I pretty much fault every dental hygenist I’ve ever met in my entire life.
I only found out LAST year there’s so much more to flossing! GAH, I am embarrassed to admit that, but it’s true. I thought flossing’s
main purpose was to remove any food that had lodged between my teeth. I never knew it was to scrape off all the junk and buildup!
Such is my life: Brain tumors, rare diseases, and learning how to floss properly at 44! 🙂
I don’t really know what to say when I see pictures like this. It makes my stomach hurt a bit.
But it’s me and who I am. ❤
As I have written before, July is always a heavy and rough month for me. Just because I ponder so much about where my life was and where I am now. You can read this post as a refresher, but basically I was diagnosed with a 5 cm. brain tumor in my cerebellum on 7/18/11 and then I had a 13 hour brain surgery 7/27/11. Then, I had another one a week later 8/4/11.
I know that people talk a lot about scars, what they mean, they give us power or strength to see what we’ve overcome, blah blah blah. I don’t really have anything wordy or eloquent to say about this scar because to be very honest: it just plain sucks balls.
I think the more I look at it, the more I talk about it or try to embrace it, it’ll be less taboo to talk about. I read this tweet a while ago that (paraphrased) said: You talk about your kids and your marriage and your job. I don’t have any of that and I talk about my brain tumors and my fear of when I will die and what will happen to me. I freaking love this tweet and hope you will be mindful of that if your friend has a medical situation they must address.
(NOTE: Many times, at least in my experience, just because someone has brain surgery doesn’t mean the doctors were able to remove the entire tumor. Please don’t just assume “Oh, they are fine” once they have recovered from their surgeries. I believe in some cases a neurosurgeon can remove the entire tumor, but that didn’t happen at all in my case. Plus, I have another smaller 2 cm. tumor that is encapsulated in my cerebellum. One of my sincerest hopes is that my life after surgeries and with brain tumors can help educate someone about them and how to better support us.)
I am glad today is almost over. Soon, or probably it should be already, July 27 will just be another day. I am working towards that….soon.
PS, if you’re on Twitter please follow #BrainTumorThursday. Thank you!
I always hoped for a traditional life. Marriage to a good man, children, a dog or a cat, I would have a career that offered something to the world, security, support, teamwork.
About 6 years ago this hope was destroyed. I am now dependent on others, unable to work, don’t have a career or security, cannot take care of myself.
Yet as I am reading this post now, why can’t I still have those things?
Looking back on my life, I would say the most disastrous day I ever lived through was the day I was diagnosed with a brain tumor. (The anniversary of this event happened to be yesterday, July 18.)
Disasters happen. This we know.
What’s the opposite of disaster?
This site shows many, many, many choices. I just had the thought to print out each one of the words listed and place them all around my room.
Sound like a good idea to you?
…how irresponsible pet owners yell and scream at their (escaped) pets instead of taking a long, hard look at themselves?
I had a run in with a horrible, gross man this morning. His little dog was running around and for the record: I will always choose an animal over a stupid human being.
The man comes out as he hears me trying to get the dog home, and starts yelling and screaming at the dog. I’m (in my car) waiting because I was going to tell him that I saw his dog out a few days earlier, too. As he sees that I’m still there he screams, “GET AWAY FROM MY CAR. WATCH THE CAR.”
I was stunned.
I was very far away from his car and in no way was I at risk for hitting it.
He continues to scream, “WATCH THE CAR. I AM GOING TO CALL THE POLICE YOU CRAZY B*TCH. DON’T WORRY ABOUT MY DOG. WATCH THE CARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.”
Did I mention a little tiny boy (maybe 2 years old?) was following at this man’s feet and making some noise? I know this poor baby was terrified at what he was witnessing.
I pulled out my phone and took his picture. And, a picture of the dog before he was ushered to the back area.
I was dumbfounded. Speechless.
I asked him, “Why are you being such a dick?”
And also, just for the record: I didn’t get a word in edgewise to this crazy man. He just yelled his fool head off.
My heart breaks for that poor dog. Seriously.
But I know I can’t save them all. It’s hard.
At times, I wish I could sail off into the sunset. To leave all my cares and worries behind me: no more brain scans; no more breast scans; no more kidney scans; no more colonoscopies and EGD’s; no more stress of worrying about the outcomes of the tests I must endure. No more Cowden Syndrome and no more Lhermitte-duclos Disease discussion. Ever.
Alas, life is not like a movie. I don’t have that luxury around me, and to be honest, I really envy those that do.
But life is life. And, it’s not a dress rehearsal. This is my lot in life. Call it bad or good, it’s mine and I must not ever give up.