Today has been a hard day. After yesterday my mind, my moods have been in a constant state of change.
As most of you observed, I am hopeful. I hate that I am because hope has led me no where good yet, but damn, I am. I don’t know that the next scan (an MRV with gadolinium for those interested) will actually show anything, but at least I feel like we’ve got a real, somewhat reasonable plan, for the first time in MONTHS. And I feel like if the scan doesn’t show anything, I can go back to this doctor and she won’t try to toss another band-aid onto these headaches, she’s going to try to find a way to stop them altogether. I don’t know if she’ll ever be successful, but it feels like we’re finally trying to treat the cause instead of the effects. I like that.
On the other hand, I’m scared.
I really, seriously do not want another brain surgery. I especially don’t want it because it will unquestionably derail my schooling. I can barely tell you how hard I have worked to not have to fall back a year in school. I’m not trying to paint myself a hero here, and probably I should’ve given in and gone on a 4 year track instead of staying on 3. But I didn’t. I’ve lost hours studying long after I normally would. Weekends lost to trying to relearn things that I didn’t get to learn in class, that didn’t make sense because I had missed the previous week due to pain or tests.
I caught up. I passed all my classes. I am on track to graduate in May. And the idea that this scan could show what the others hadn’t, and that it could show that this can and should be repaired now? Kind of sucks. In a warped crazy kind of way.
I don’t want surgery. I don’t want to start my next clinical and my fall classes late. I don’t want to be behind ever again.
But on the other hand (I have a lot of hands, okay?), there’s no way I can turn down a fix. If this scan shows a leak, I will have it fixed, almost unquestionably. The quality of my life depends upon it. It would be crazy for me not to. And given that my brainstem is slumping out of my head, there’s no question that physiologically, it would be crazy not to also. I try not to get too dramatic when I can avoid it (shut up, sometimes I try), but your brainstem is essential for your ability to live. I’m not willing to mess around with mine.
And so I wait, somewhat patiently, for insurance to authorize the scan, for the pharmacy to fill the pills. I craft scenarios in my head of what if the scan shows something. Of what if it doesn’t. I find worries where I don’t need them, I push others away. I make plans tentatively right now, knowing that the future is still very much uncertain.
That everything ahead is now unwritten. That it all remains to be seen.