For that we have each other…

The first time I heard Andra Day’s song, Rise Up, I immediately thought of it as a survivor’s anthem. I heard the refrain, and I thought about my daily struggles, and the effort I make to rise up and face each challenge.

Then I saw the video, and I realized that I was so caught up in my own drama, I hadn’t even noticed some of the lyrics. Clearly this is a song of solidarity, but I hadn’t heard the “we” because I was too focused on the “I”. As I watched the video, I immediately thought of all the things my husband does every day to help me find the strength to keep on keeping on.

“You’re broken down and tired of living life on a merry go round, and you can’t find the fighter. But I see it in you, so we gonna walk it out and move mountains” from Rise Up sung by Andra Day

I was very fortunate to have people to take care of me during the early phases of my recovery. I can’t imagine what I would have done without my husband, my mother, and my father.

I know it hasn’t been an easy year for them. They have had to take on more responsibilities, and they have had to make sacrifices to make sure I have what I need. In fact, even now that I am back at work and getting stronger by the day, they are still making little daily sacrifices to make sure I am cared for and comfortable. For that, I am so grateful. So I am going to post the video here for all of the people who are caring for me and my fellow SCT survivors.

We will rise up!

The Good Old Days

When I was first diagnosed, I was furious with the universe. I remember thinking it was so unfair. After three years of sacrifices while juggling my career and classwork for my doctorate, I was ready to ease back into my “real” life. I had trips to take. I had family to visit. I had friends to reconnect with. Suddenly I felt like it was all being stolen from me. All I could see in front of me was a black hole of uncertainty.

I am now one year out from the diagnosis and seven months out from the surgery, and while the anger has subsided, I still miss the good old days. I long for a time when pain was not my constant companion. I wonder what I might have done differently had I known what the future held for me. Would I have spent so many extra hours at work? Would I have put relationships on the back burner to focus on my education? Would I have travelled more? Risked more? Played more?

My old life feels like a distant memory. I think this is probably something many SCT survivors can relate to. When I heard Macklemore’s song, Good Old Days, it really resonated. I was particularly struck by the following lyrics:

Never thought we’d get old, maybe we’re still young;
Maybe you always look back and think it was better than it was.
Maybe these are the moments;
Maybe I’ve been missin’ what it’s about
Been scared of the future, thinkin’ about the past
While missin’ out on now.
We’ve come so far, I guess I’m proud
And I ain’t worried ’bout the wrinkles ’round my smile.
I’ve got some scars, I’ve been around.
I’ve felt some pain, I’ve seen some things, but I’m here now.
Those good old days… 
Those good old days.

Do What You Can’t

I know… it is an advertisement, but I saw it during my first week back at work after my spinal cord tumor surgery, and I have to tell you that it really resonated with me! I was feeling so broken, so fragile, so incapable of facing the challenges that were bombarding me. Then I saw this ad and my eyes filled with tears. Do what you can’t… that is my calling for the next year as I tackle this recovery. DO WHAT YOU CAN’T.

The Jabberwocky – vs – The Dissertation

For the past two years, Saturday mornings have been reserved for my dissertation. I pack up my books and head to the local library to immerse myself in research. But today something different happened. When I logged into the internet, instead of searching for more articles related to my dissertation topic, I found myself googling “schwannoma” – “neurofibroma” – “spinal cord tumor”.

Soon I found myself lost in a labyrinth of information about this thing that is taking over my life. I’ve read stories of people who have had the surgery and come out on the other side satisfied with the results, but I have also read stories that scare me. Stories of people who now realize the rest of their lives will be dictated by pain. Stories of limitations and loss. Stories of good doctors and bad doctors. So much to process. So many decisions to make. I read and read, but the big questions remain. How long will it take for me to recover? How much will this impact my job? My dissertation? My marriage? And I’ll be honest, it is hard to be optimistic and hopeful.