The Diagnosis

Life was going so well it was scary.  Scary, because I know there's more to life than picnicking.  My Heavenly Father wants my earthly experience to stretch me and strengthen me, so I knew the calm couldn't last forever.  It's like in the movies when everything's going well and there's a really happy couple getting along and being loving to each other and you think to yourself, "Okay, which one of you is about to die?"

The night I set up my Christmas decorations, I sat in my beautiful, newly remodeled home looking at my 13 foot fresh Christmas tree and the stocking hanger photos of my stunningly beautiful, healthy children.  The children that have over an acre of land to run around, explore, and climb huge trees, the children that have each other and have such strong bonds with each other.  I sat there in disbelief that life could be so happy.  Don't get me wrong, my life wasn't perfect.  But I was feeling so overwhelmed with gratitude and pleading with God not to take it all away.  So many people in my family are struggling, it just didn't seem fair.

So it didn't surprise me as much as you might think when I realized that I had become "that person."

"That person" that has a blog to give medical updates on their life-threatening condition.  You know, that person that is never YOU, always someone else.  I've played life the same way I play dodge ball.  Laying low, hoping that no one would notice I wasn't getting hit.  Just trying not to call attention to that fact.  Well, now that person is me.  It is so hard to wrap my head around that.

I HAVE A BRAIN TUMOR.  Craziest words that have ever left my mouth.

It all started Tuesday, December 23rd.  I was driving to the workout studio I go to in Sandy, I was driving my husband's new car because mine was having a small repair, and I remember thinking, this car is hard to steer!  I was having trouble staying in my lane and something just didn't feel right.  The next thing I noticed that day was that I couldn't speak clearly and easily.  People can still understand me, but my speech is slurred.  It feels like it takes a lot of effort to form consonants.  It's harder for me to sound expressive when I speak because I'm focusing so much on trying to form the words.  I feel like I sound like the teacher in Ferris Beuller's Day Off. I wasn't sure if I was imagining it or not.  But my husband made it clear that he noticed it.  Every time I speak, my husband, Joe gets a really concerned look on his face.  I stutter a lot too.  It's because a word comes out and I can tell I didn't get it right, so I keep trying it until it sounds r-r-r-right. By the time Joe confirmed that there was a real problem, I felt like I had missed the three hour window of rushing into the hospital after a stroke.  I didn't have a lot of other stroke symptoms, so I wasn't too concerned.

Christmas was great, my kids were thrilled by their gifts.  In the evening we went to Joe's sister's house to celebrate with the extended family.  Everyone seemed really concerned and said that they thought one side of my face seemed a little less active than the other.  We decided we did need to get checked out.  We drove to what we thought was the Instacare but it was closed.  Why do emergencies always occur at nights, on weekends or holidays?  The next morning we drove to a different Instacare and sat down with a nurse who listened to my symptoms and immediately sent us to the American Fork Hospital Emergency Room.

They checked me in and set me up in a bed with a hospital gown.  I felt like that was unnecessary.  Then my husband, always ready to dramatize the situation, posted a picture of me on Facebook in the hospital bed.  "Nice!", I thought.  "Now everyone is going to think something horrible is happening."  The ER nurses and docs were good.  They got me an MRI right away.  They wheeled me in a wheelchair to get the scan.  Overkill! I understand that they always err on the side of caution and I appreciate that.

So, MRI's are lots of fun.  What's the first thing you want to do when someone tells you to hold completely still?  Move!  I am such a fidgeter, these scans are going to be hard for me.  I just closed my eyes and tried to envision my children's sweet faces. We had to wait about an hour to get the results.  Joe was saying that he didn't want to walk out of there not knowing what was causing the symptoms.  But I said, "It's probably not going to show anything, but that's good, that's what we want." Then the doctor came in and changed my world.

He told us that they found a tumor… and that it was probably cancer. I can't imagine having to deliver that kind of news.  He did a great job.  He just said it kind of matter-of-factly.  If he had been really solemn and serious about it it would have felt like more of a death sentence.  I appreciated that he didn't deliver it like that.  Once that had come out, all I could think about was wanting to look over at Joe and see his facial expression.

My first reaction was to laugh.  It just seemed so beyond belief.  All I could think about was that it would turn out to not be a big deal somehow because I couldn't imagine that really happening to me!  I just wanted to call my mom.  They gave us an appointment with a doctor for the following Monday at 9 am.  A two day wait!  They couldn't give us very much information in the ER so we were anxious to get answers as soon as possible. We left and walked out to our car.  We just looked at each other in disbelief. "This can't be happening." I dialed my mom's number.  Of course, as soon as I had to talk to her the emotion came out.  I said in my crying, shaky- Mom-something's- wrong -voice, "Mom?  They said I have a tumor." My mom sounded emotional and upset.  I could hear that Joe was starting to lose it listening to us cry. I asked my mom to spread the word.

"What do we tell the kids?"

Enter my new biggest problem in life.  Trying to help my children feel safe, secure, and happy.  Right now, I think they must be feeling like they're hanging off the edge of a cliff, totally unsure if things will turn out okay or not. I remember being a kid and imagining that the worst possible situation would be losing my mom.  Everyone needs a mom, sorry if you don't have one, but mom's are just so needed.  They are the ones who support you and love you more than anyone.  My Mom would help me out of any situation no matter how much it would inconvenience her. I'm not closer to anyone than I am to my mom.  I have that same kind of close relationship with my kids, so I can understand how they must be feeling. I decided that I wanted to be upfront with them and always be honest so they don't have to doubt what we tell them and they will be truly comforted when we assure them.  We told them about the tumor and that it might be cancer.  They didn't give a big reaction, at 12, 10, and 6, they are a little young to understand these things and haven't been exposed to many stories about people with this condition.

This was now Boxing Day as they say in England, where Joe is from. We had a boxing day party that day, again with his side of the family. When we arrived, everyone was eagerly awaiting news of my MRI. The kids saw us sharing the news with our distraught family. I think they started to get a sense of the seriousness of the situation.  At this point, they are very shaken, especially our oldest Mia.

Mia and I are like two peas in a pod. We are absolutely crazy about each other.  Best friends, kindred spirits, soul mates.  She is an unusually fantastic child.  She is loving, affectionate, obedient, helpful, supportive.  She always asks me about how my life is going and how my goals and dreams are coming along.  She is a fantastic listener.  She's the truest friend anyone could ever have.  She's a dream child, but then so are my younger two.  It's incredible to have such loving, spiritual children.  I'm so proud of all of them and could not live without any one of them.  It's like when God puts families together, he knows exactly who would go well together.  That explains the indescribable amount of love and appreciation I feel for my children's specific personalities.  The worst part of this challenge is that they are so sad and worried.  That causes me the most suffering.

A lot of people are asking me how I'm feeling right now.  I feel uncoordinated.  Speaking is still a challenge.  My mom said I sound like I had a novacane injection.  I think I sound like what I'm guessing a drunk person sounds like.  I've never been drunk and not sure I've been around someone that was.  Everything in general feels more challenging.  Typing this right now, my fingers feel a little sticky and slow like they're not going where I want them to as fast as they usually do. I feel better walking down the stairs if Joe is holding my hand.  And we've decided I shouldn't drive. That will probably be the biggest life change for a while until treatment gets started. And I feel bad for my family.  They are so concerned and worried.

My poor husband.  There's no doubt in my mind that he's deeply in love with me.  He is beside himself!  He is being so tender and loving and helpful.  I love you, Joe.

I actually feel like I am in the best position of every one in my family.  They are facing the possibility of losing a loved one.  I am facing the possibility of dying.  That doesn't scare me that much.  For me, I mean.  Leaving my children behind is the worst thought I could imagine.  But being dead isn't scary.  Let's see… leaving behind trouble, sorrow, and suffering to live in paradise with my grandparents and Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father, maybe even meeting my Heavenly Mother!… not scary.  Leaving behind three delicious children to deal with the trouble, sorrow, and suffering by themselves… now that's scary!

I cannot describe to you the depth of love I feel for my children.  I want nothing more than to spend all of my time loving them, teaching them, guiding them and comforting them through life, sprinkled with a few lunch dates, shopping trips, and late-night cuddles.  I believe that is the most noble way a person can spend their time.  No one shapes the future of the world like mothers and fathers!  I'm so grateful for my mother and father who taught me the gospel of Jesus Christ and helped me through my life and continue to do so.

I will never forget the time that I insisted on having a black pleather skirt from Walmart when I was in the third or fourth grade.  I have always been a little edgy when it comes to fashion.  My mom warned me that clothes from Walmart were not good quality but I insisted.  She bought it for me and I wore it to school.  I was playing wall ball at recess when it ripped right up the back.  I tied a sweatshirt around my waist and went to the office to call my mom to bring me a change of clothes.  She answered the phone and immediately brought the clothes to rescue me from my embarrassing situation.  I remember recognizing that day how blessed I was that my mother was home and accessible to help me in my time of need.  Every time anyone ever asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up I have always said I wanted to be a mom.

My mom was the most important person in my life, why wouldn't I want to become the most important person in the world, a Mom?  Thank you, Mom, for your goodness and your example and your sacrifices for me.  The thought of relinquishing this high calling to someone else is more than I can bear. But I trust that God has a plan for me and my children and knows how to make it all work out for the best for everyone.

You may ask, how could God let things like this happen to people?  How could your math teacher allow you to have a failing grade?  That's not very nice!  Everyone knows that students would never learn anything if their teachers gave them passing grades without requiring any work or study.  It's the same with our Heavenly Father.  He is not a weak parent that gives into our every desire.  He allows us to work and learn and grow like every good parent should.  He is a perfect parent.  I am so grateful He is that way.  He doesn't do what's easy, He does what's right 100% of the time. I feel so blessed to have a Father that loves me enough to do what's best for me.  I know He will help me through this, through all the twists and turns.

He responds to prayers, so anyone and everyone that's willing, I am asking for your help.  Please pray for my children to be comforted and for the right blessings to be poured out upon my family!  I am so overwhelmed by the response I've already had.  Saying I feel "loved" doesn't capture it.  "Treasured" is a better word.  Thank you to everyone who is extending their love and service and offering prayers in our behalf.  I love you all!