Accessibility [ + Larger Font | + Smaller Font ]

Background

I am 42 years old and I have two gorgeous children, all grown up now.

In late October of 2005 my life changed. Time stood still. I had a brain tumour. To this day I can’t really put into words how I felt when I was told. The only word I heard, that I was remotely bothered about was “tumour”. After that nothing else sank in. Funny thing is, looking back nearly four years on, a week earlier I was joking about having a brain tumour. The doctors couldn't find anything wrong until I had an MRI Scan.

But there was nothing funny about the news. Nothing that the doctors said sank in. It was all too clinical. All I needed was support, which I had from my family and friends. Otherwise I felt confused as to what help was out there for me and for those around me.

On consultation with the surgeon, I was advised that my tumour was more likely to be benign than malignant. I thought it was a relief. But it was feeding off the main vessel in my brain, and was told all the potential consequences.

In March 2006, I was quite ill. Still happy because I was actually looking forward to having surgery – in a weird way; waiting for the feeling of relief; waking up to having no tumour; being rid of this nasty thing invading my body and thoughts.

Though the nightmare had only just begun.

The operation went well, I was feeling quite alert considering I’d just had a brain tumour removed. 48 hours later, I took a turn for the worse; being sick, confused, agitated, upset, lost... You get the picture, yeah? I was rushed into theatre again. I woke up in intensive care, wires everywhere, wanting to move, but I couldn't. I felt trapped inside my own body, wanting to break out, but couldn't speak; I had forgotten how to move and communicate. I could hear nurses talking but couldn't respond. I thought I was in a nightmare.

The surgeons informed me later that, due to infection, they had to take a bone from the top of my head away. This was so they could remove the infection from my brain, which might I add I felt a bit worse for wear. I was told I was close to death. I had contracted Bilateral Pulmonary Embolisms. To add insult to injury, a few weeks later I developed a brain cyst, which involved yet another operation to have it removed. It all involved various agonising treatments, lots of prodding and poking, antibiotics and a lot of physio to get me talking and moving again.

On the plus side, there was a lot of care from the doctors and nurses.

I am here to tell my story to you, of which I feel very honored. However, I am not going into too much detail at the moment, as this site is for you. In time, if God willing, I hope I can make a difference, giving inspiration, even if only to one individual. To me this would be a blessing.

At present, I am still recovering, holding a job down, happy, care free. I still have my bad days. But I am alive! What I have learnt - quite quickly - is that we are all wrapped up in our own little world. Winging about the weather, taking for granted who and what we are. We forget the gift of life. To learn of this gift, I am eternally grateful.

If I am honest, I am still coming to terms with having that part of my skull missing, knowing that part of me will never come back. I live aware that if I bang the top of my head it could be fatal. But on a positive note I am myself again, and wouldn't change that for the world. I am a little better, stronger and thoughtful person - thanks to my tumour! Well at least I’m still here.

I have now realised to live for today, and feel that there is hope for the future.