Still More Inanity

 I used the word inanity, which means that I am super smart and fancy. Hahahahahahaha nope.

Okay, so I figure people must be on the edge of their seats to find out what happened next in my terribly thrilling saga, right? Or maybe I just want to get it out on paper before I forget it all and move on with my life. Maybe that’s it. Yeah. 

So, where I left off, I’m scheduled for surgery. BUT. I still have to wait. And those three or so months were just super poopy. I had to be so careful not to do any of the trigger things, I was still in constant mild pain, so it was exhausting, and I was on megatons of medications to keep the nerve as calm as possible. And I couldn’t sing except little bits and pieces when I was teaching and I forgot that the singing would give me a lovely jolt. Not fun. 

I’m sure we all have this passion in life for something, right? Whether it’s cake or painting or race cars or whatever, there’s something in life that just feeds our hearts and keeps them full. No singing, to me, felt like life became black and white all of a sudden, and I lost all of the hope I ever had. But the pain became manageable, so I had to take it. This wasn’t the kind of pain one could choose to live with, so it was just necessary. But it was gross. 

Then, I also did a lot of googling about the procedure and brain surgeries, in general. I shouldn’t do that. Worrying is my superpower and the videos and blogs and everything scared the crap out of me. By the time we made it through the waiting and were in our lovely little Airbnb getting ready to go in and get my brain cut open, my husband and I were both scared sh*tl*ss. Tacky, but it’s the only word that even comes close. It was terrifying. So terrifying that we couldn’t even talk about it with each other, because that would make it too real, so we just said super positive crap and kind of tried to say goodbye to each other when I went in for surgery without saying goodbye forever. Which we were scared about.

It was a looooooooong one. Hours. I don’t know how my husband did it, but he is made of much tougher stuff than I am. I would’ve bawled in the car the whole time, but he looked like he had his business together when I opened my eyes and saw him. Well, to be honest, saw both of him. Because I had some sweet double vision going on when I opened my eyes, and that was not awesome. Took a bit, but it cleared up.

Another fun thing? When we met with the surgeon, he was so confident. He basically said I was so young and so healthy that really it was most likely to take and be good for at least 5-10 years with no pain, right? And that most people woke up feeling no pain at all, right?

Hahahahahahaha just no. Not me. I woke up and had a little baby attack within the first hour. And had pain for, say, the first two months. Yep. For two whole months after the surgery, I didn’t know if it had really worked. Nice.

However, month three was much better. This recovery has been tough, though. Lots of pain, lots of exhaustion, lots of brain fog and forgetfulness, and a whole buttload (technical term again) of new neuroses. Because, well, you try living with that big old sword of Damocles hanging over your head. Unfortunately, this is a permanent condition right now. There’s no lifelong cure. It will most likely come back and most likely it will be just as bad or even worse, which is hard to even imagine.

HOWEVER. As the woman with the undamaged toys from my childhood in a box in my closet, and a ton of unworn clothes in there, too, I am learning to live in the present and not the past or future, and this is a real thing. It is difficult in a way I would never have imagined. We are having to be happy with the pain free days we have now because there is never a guarantee.

Living with that is very tough for my husband and I, but it’s also beautiful. We’re spending a little money here and there instead of just saving for some unforeseen future all the time. We’re taking better care of our health, because we’ve learned that these bodies are all we get and they are the most important asset we will ever have. We’re reaching out to friends and family more, because our time with them is precious and much more important than working, cleaning, fixing, and saving. The work will always be there. Being careful is great, but taking it to extremes just leads to fear and anxiety, and we have plenty of those things in our lives. For reals. And we are more thankful than we’ve ever been to have been given this time together. 

We didn’t know what would happen when that dude went all up into my brain. So many things can happen during a surgery, and it could’ve even failed altogether, which would’ve been bad, too. Not only did I make it through, but I had a wonderful surgeon who did an amazing job and fixed the vein and artery compressing my trigeminal nerve (yes, I am an overachiever and I had a vein getting all cozy with my nerve, too, which they couldn’t see on the scans), and I stayed in the most amazing facility with nurses who were so wonderful to me, it makes me cry just to think about it. I just can’t even deal with how good everyone was to me. And then I got to go recover in a beautiful little house with my husband, who took the best care of me you could imagine, and we got to go on little baby walks in a safe neighborhood, and nothing at all bad happened.

So, really, it was just miraculous and fantastic and the best possible outcome. And we’re both better people than we were a year ago. We are softer and kinder and more understanding. We are way less judgmental and more willing to try new things that might be a little difficult or uncomfortable. I got an kickass new arm tattoo of a bear surrounded by our wedding flowers that I can look at all day to remind myself that we are just so strong together. Oh, and most of all, we are so much nicer to each other every single day.

Which is probably the best side effect of all time.

Now? Well, I’m about four months out, and while there are still a few small issues, like a completely numb head and some delightful eye twitches, the trigeminal neuralgia attacks have 100% stopped. I can sing again, and my voice seems to have come back stronger and easier than ever before, which is awesome. We’re working through the fear and anxiety, so those are getting better too. We are actually starting to make plans and live again, which is super fun, and we’re learning to be in the present more and stop existing in the past and future all of the time. 

Well, we’re working on that and doing much better.

So that’s my story. Neat, right? Geez, we are dramatic over here 😬 Happy Saturday, folks!