A few weeks ago, Danny and I grabbed a few copies of files from my medical file at the UW. In the paperwork, the doctors stressed the high probability of seizures. In fact, seizures are typically the first symptom of my type of brain tumor. Reading about the seriousness of a possible seizure on paper was sobering. It's one thing to have a verbal warning, and it's a completely different thing to read it from your file.
In the documentation the radiation oncologist said, "She understands that if she is to suffer a seizure that she would be restarted on this medicine, or a similar one, and that she would likely be taking that for the rest of her life. Furthermore, she understands that in the event of seizure activity, she could not drive for six months afterward."
Since I had to take seizure medicine for weeks before and months after the surgery, I'm acutely aware of the side affects. In fact, at the time of this documentation, I was still on the anti-seizure medication. Here's more which I found kind of funny, "Her parents and significant other, who accompany her today, state that she's been more irritable than usual, and endorse that she acts as though she has a 'shorter fuse.' She states that she has not acted out against anybody, however generally feels that she has less patience and notes that she used the phrase "I want to kick a puppy," for the first time in her life a few weeks ago. She is uncertain what precipitated that statement, though generally she is concerned that she is 'not acting like herself.' "
So there you go. I remember taking that horrible medicine. It caused irritability, which isn't something that I normally have to deal with. I dread and fear the onset of seizures. Although the doctors said that since I haven't had any seizures, it is probably unlikely that I will have them. And though that is reassuring, I feel like there are no guarantees in life. I've seen enough surprises to knock me off my feet.
After reading that document a couple of weeks ago, I started subconsciously tapering off my running. I got scared. I don't want to lose my independence, or my positive attitude. Those are two things that I can't live without.
Luckily, with all things, I have a tendency to get scared and analyze the situation, and then I get back up on my feet. I ran twice before the run last Saturday, and I got back into the gym Monday, and Tuesday. Today, I'll do it again. It's the only thing that keeps me sane. I've even been working on my man push-ups. I've gotten up to 12 at a time. I'm hitting about 25 man push-ups a day. My goal is to 100 a day (it doesn't have to be all at once). It's a little thing that I can do when I'm stressed. I do them in the kitchen, in my office, even in the bathroom. I once bet my friends Matt and AJ that I could do 10 man push-ups in the middle of their going away party at Brouwers in Freemont. It's a real crowd pleaser.
Anyway, I get scared sometimes, but I'm not going to let my fears define me.
