MRI, Finally.

It has been over a year since I have blogged. This particular blog was started by Andrew for updates on my health after two grand-mal seizures in the spring of 2015. Since moving to Minneapolis, where there are no reminders of my brain tumor, I have had little desire to write on here. I actually skipped three MRI’s as I enjoyed living life as a “healthy” Minneapolis resident. It is luxurious to be carefree/cancer free for a bit. I did recently go in for my MRI and to have my cholesterol levels checked. My cholesterol is amazingly normal. The only thing I am doing, is not doing anything. I eat what I want. I am not a vegan, or a raw foodie, or paleo, or ketogenic. I eat whatever looks good. My best guess is that the non-stress of living in Minneapolis with this care-free diet plan is the key. 😉 My MRI was also good. My new neurologist gently scolded me for being a tad reckless, and wants me back to my regular six month MRI. But, the best part of the MRI is that the tumor remains grade II with no vein network.

My new neurologist is a brain-tumor specialist, and ironically, he personally knows my neurosurgeon from the Cleveland Clinic. His office is a mere 15 minute drive from our home—no more eight hour road trips to Cleveland! His nurse is the first person ever to ask how the tumor has changed my abilities and thus my life. It was therapeutic to have someone simply acknowledge that even though I look like I may have fully recovered, one truly never recovers from brain damage. The tumor took up residence in my left-frontal lobe, where it is impossible for it not to affect my speech, executive functioning, and other random annoyances. I struggle daily with the changes. In the recesses of my mind I am the same person, and yet I do not have the ability to be that person. There is a huge disconnect. Remembering who I was before compared to who I am today is a daily mourning process. I simply forget my limitations until I try to do that thing that is no longer possible and pay for it in frustration, fatigue, embarrassment, and/or a headache. It is an invisible handicap. I do enjoy looking normal, but I do not enjoy the expectation to be normal as it is often comes with judgement for not being “normal.” The disconnect is stressful. I am fortunate/blessed/lucky to have a safe, non-judgmental, loving place with Andrew and the girls. They know my quirky, broken brain and try to provide a buffer between me and my limitations. I am one lucky Minnesota girl. Did I mention how much we all love living in Minnesota? That will be my next post. This state and city are amazing. Hugs.

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