March 2013
You may think it was a long time ago that my tumour occurred. It indeed is, however, a shunt remains in my brain to drain cerebral fluid. Since my operations I have not stopped. Literally. I had to learn to walk again; learn to do many things again. I then had to get my education back on track. So much so that I am now 25 and fighting to finish my social work degree by May. This is not doing my head any favours. I'm not sure if I am getting a wake up call due to the month, but I've been getting headaches almost daily for a month or so. My tumour was benign but please do not think that makes things any easier. I was a rare case in that my childhood tumour was able to grow for an extra two years until I got any symptoms.
I should have been at University today, however, I awoke with yet another shocking headache and my mother kindly gave me some tablets and then bought some even stronger ones. I now feel quite zombie-esque as I write this. With this in mind, I wish to thank my parents and brother for their kindness, empathy and understanding. I cannot thank them enough as I know it must be difficult to put up with my mood swings that can still occur.. I have part of my brain missing, what can I say?!
I would also like you to acknowledge the vast amount of people who have endured this life-threatening illness. It's no piece of cake, and we may look, appear and act very normal but side effects do not ever leave. I was never given physiotherapy so my mum took that role, along with many other roles. With our combined efforts, I still will never wear stiletto heels. As silly as it sounds, I get extremely frustrated with todays society of women who rule their life by how they look. I still have to check that I am walking o.k due to my slightly weak left-hand side. Spare some thoughts to the survivours in the world, and those less fortunate.
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| 19/20 years old here |
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| Jon and I after my 2nd operation: May '04, aged 16 |
