Three years ago, the doctors discovered a benign tumor by a fluke. The tumor is threatening my optic nerve. I have been watched closely since that time with annual appointments, MRIs and visual field tests. All was well, until four months ago, I was told by my surgeon that the tumor has been slowly growing. He wanted to wait five months to watch it.
I agreed, but pretty quickly I discovered I could not live knowing that at any time my peripheral vision may diminish. Any visual deficits is irreversible. My doctor consulted his colleagues and they all agreed that it was a valid surgery and waiting would be riskier. I have come to terms with needing this surgery as the alternative would be blindness.
My surgery is less than two weeks away and I am having great days, but stressful moments. Yesterday, I spoke with a Nurse Practitioner at the surgery clinic, who informed me of the surgery and what to expect during recovery. It made it all so real, which is a bit scary. It was a stressful day for me.
Today, I am doing great and realize I am in some denial, which is so helpful. I know what is ahead, but when talking about it, it is like it is someone else. So often folks want another to be realistic and know the truth, but, for me, denial can also be one’s best friend.
ADDENDUM: I wrote this poem six months ago. It was a long recovery, but I am now back to normal. This experience has changed me so much for the better. I appreciate each day knowing that the result could not have gone as well as it has. I thank my God; my spirit daily.
DENIAL IS
Denial is an emotion.
It helps us cope in baby steps.
A new diagnosis is shocking and scary.
Denial allows us relief from reality.
Intellectually, we know the entire truth,
but emotionally, we can be all over the board.
Knowing the truth is important,
but it can also be overpowering.
When overwhelmed, we cannot think rationally.
We are captured; distracted; helpless.
Denial allows reality to slowly creep in
to gradually grasp what lies ahead.
Denial is an emotion.
It helps me cope in baby steps.
A new diagnosis is shocking and scary.
Denial allows me relief from reality.
Saturday, September 24, 2016
Saturday, September 17, 2016
THE PERFECT ANSWER
We all have different levels of intelligence and memory. When a patient suffers from dementia or Alzheimer's, a Mini Mental Exam is a tool that can help determine how much a patient may understand. The exam consists of simple questions in a number of areas. The examiner may have a patient repeat a list of three words, spell a word backwards or name an article, like a watch, for example.
"Leo", ninety-four, was diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease four years ago. Leo lives in the Memory Care Unit of a Residential Care Facility. Leo has been slowly declining to where now he is eating very little, getting weaker and sleeping more. Alzheimer's is a progressive disease which strongly impacts one's memory. Patients typically become more confused as the days and months go by.
The nurse and I went out to meet Leo and his family. Initially, we spoke with the family in a conference room nearby to explain our program. Leo was not able to participate in the admission visit due to his confusion. Quite often too much stimulation or conversation can frustrate the patient.
After the family signed the admission paperwork, we all went into Leo's room to meet him. The nurse asked Leo several questions and his last answer made us all laugh. It was so simple, but brilliant to me. Mostly though, it was so adorable It made me think that Leo still has some cognitive ability working inside. The best part of it all; Leo's heart continued to shine radiantly.
THE PERFECT ANSWER
He's ninety-four with Alzheimer's;
living in a Memory Care Unit.
He's been in a recent decline;
more confused; weaker; eating less.
She checked his heart for changes.
She checked his lungs for air.
She also wanted to check his memory,
so she asked him a few simple questions.
"How old are you?"
"I am one hundred and two."
"What is the date of your birthday?"
He answered like it was so obvious,
"One hundred and two years ago."
It made us all laugh.
It was so adorable; it was brilliant.
It was, without doubt,
the perfect answer.
"Leo", ninety-four, was diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease four years ago. Leo lives in the Memory Care Unit of a Residential Care Facility. Leo has been slowly declining to where now he is eating very little, getting weaker and sleeping more. Alzheimer's is a progressive disease which strongly impacts one's memory. Patients typically become more confused as the days and months go by.
The nurse and I went out to meet Leo and his family. Initially, we spoke with the family in a conference room nearby to explain our program. Leo was not able to participate in the admission visit due to his confusion. Quite often too much stimulation or conversation can frustrate the patient.
After the family signed the admission paperwork, we all went into Leo's room to meet him. The nurse asked Leo several questions and his last answer made us all laugh. It was so simple, but brilliant to me. Mostly though, it was so adorable It made me think that Leo still has some cognitive ability working inside. The best part of it all; Leo's heart continued to shine radiantly.
THE PERFECT ANSWER
He's ninety-four with Alzheimer's;
living in a Memory Care Unit.
He's been in a recent decline;
more confused; weaker; eating less.
She checked his heart for changes.
She checked his lungs for air.
She also wanted to check his memory,
so she asked him a few simple questions.
"How old are you?"
"I am one hundred and two."
"What is the date of your birthday?"
He answered like it was so obvious,
"One hundred and two years ago."
It made us all laugh.
It was so adorable; it was brilliant.
It was, without doubt,
the perfect answer.
Sunday, September 11, 2016
NEW DIAGNOSIS
I found out today that one of my co-workers was just diagnosed with cancer. She called me into her office and shared her recent news. She said it felt so surreal; like we are talking about someone else. She knew that I would understand as I, too, recently got diagnosed with a new diagnosis; a growing, benign brain tumor.
Diagnoses such as these bring up so many questions. Why and what do you do with it? What is the meaning; the purpose. I know that it does feel surreal and it is shocking. I also know that no one in this life gets a free pass. We all have to deal with something as we travel along our own personal journeys.
The positive side of going through something like this; one feels so much love and support. I truly have an "Angel Village" surrounding me. One truly counts their blessings for all the folks around who care. Our support network is truly what gets us through tough times.
I learned from my new diagnosis that there are no words to be said. Nothing can take away the disease. I know that I only need someone to just be with me. Even knowing and living that, my first impulse was to say someone to ease her pain. It is our human nature to ease the suffering of those you love.
Maybe one day, we will know and understand why things happen and what it is all about. For now, I just know that it is the love and support of our village that helps us through tough times.
NEW DIAGNOSIS
She told me about her diagnosis.
I was shocked and quite surprised.
It brought up so many questions,
but comfort came first to my mind.
I wanted to make her feel better,
although there are no words.
I wanted to take her burden away,
but there is nothing one can do.
She said it felt surreal;
like we are talking about someone else.
I totally got what she was saying,
as I have my own recent diagnosis.
Neither of us want to go down that path,
but we have no other choice.
Avoiding that dark, unfamiliar road,
would make things so much worse.
One gets tired of thinking about it.
One gets tired of telling the story,
but by sharing the diagnosis,
we get the needed support.
I don't know why these things happen;
but what are we to do?
I would like to, one day, understand
the purpose for giving someone
a new diagnosis.
Diagnoses such as these bring up so many questions. Why and what do you do with it? What is the meaning; the purpose. I know that it does feel surreal and it is shocking. I also know that no one in this life gets a free pass. We all have to deal with something as we travel along our own personal journeys.
The positive side of going through something like this; one feels so much love and support. I truly have an "Angel Village" surrounding me. One truly counts their blessings for all the folks around who care. Our support network is truly what gets us through tough times.
I learned from my new diagnosis that there are no words to be said. Nothing can take away the disease. I know that I only need someone to just be with me. Even knowing and living that, my first impulse was to say someone to ease her pain. It is our human nature to ease the suffering of those you love.
Maybe one day, we will know and understand why things happen and what it is all about. For now, I just know that it is the love and support of our village that helps us through tough times.
NEW DIAGNOSIS
She told me about her diagnosis.
I was shocked and quite surprised.
It brought up so many questions,
but comfort came first to my mind.
I wanted to make her feel better,
although there are no words.
I wanted to take her burden away,
but there is nothing one can do.
She said it felt surreal;
like we are talking about someone else.
I totally got what she was saying,
as I have my own recent diagnosis.
Neither of us want to go down that path,
but we have no other choice.
Avoiding that dark, unfamiliar road,
would make things so much worse.
One gets tired of thinking about it.
One gets tired of telling the story,
but by sharing the diagnosis,
we get the needed support.
I don't know why these things happen;
but what are we to do?
I would like to, one day, understand
the purpose for giving someone
a new diagnosis.
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