Her BrainStorm

Fatigue continues to consume me. I’m throwing up and can’t keep anything down. Neurological function becomes weaker. I can’t stay awake more than three to four hours a day. I can’t figure out why this is happening. I increase my time at the gym. Nothing works. The fireworks “show” continues – and torments me. Bursts of lights throughout the day: here, there, and everywhere. It becomes more frequent, and with each “burst” – brighter. Blindingly brighter. Thinking the culprit of this unwanted, festive light show is from the eye, I soon schedule an appointment with a retina specialist. Eerily upon arrival, it was almost as if the doctor was aware of the cause of my symptoms even before an official diagnosis was made with all of the fancy-schmancy, state-of-the-art, high tech equipment in his office. The doctor puts me under a few tests, then like clockwork, advises that I get an MRI of my brain as soon as possible. Jesus.

MRI day: the doctors insert needles into my arms and assure me that it’ll be a painless procedure. The purpose of the needles is to inject contrast dyes that’ll enhance the clarity of the pictures and to “glow up” any tumors in my brain. (Merry Christmas to me). Lying on my back, I enter the MRI machine. They put a “cage” over my head to ensure immobility, and gently push me into the chamber. It is dark and I feel claustrophobic; yet I try my best to stay as calm and still as I possibly can. I comfort myself by reciting Psalm 23 in my head like a broken record over and over again. The Lord will see me through this. After all, He is the Omniscient Creator and Sovereign God. He holds my life in His Hands, so in whom and what shall I fear? But still… remember me Oh gracious, gracious, and merciful Lord. If I may, I’d like to, eh hem… kindly and respectfully remind You that I led Praise & Worship for You at church and tithed AND sponsored children in Your name. Please don’t forget that (gulp).

MRI scans reveal three brain tumors. The largest one of the three is an imminent concern: a grapefruit-sized tumor lodged in my brain’s ventricles. The tumor had grown so large that it was pressing down on my optic nerve. That explains the fireworks “show.” gosh… I’m so good at putting two and two together. (dab). The other two will be addressed later but could “go away” on its own; but if not, he (nonchalantly) advised that chemotherapy will be used to “shrink” them. noooooo… I like my hair…

Even in the midst of this storm, I thanked God that He had allowed me to “see” the blinding lights that prompted me to schedule an appointment with the retina specialist. I thanked Him for modern technology that gave the doctors a treatment plan. I also thanked Him for the surgeons who were equipped with the knowledge and expertise to treat me from this illness. And lastly, I thanked Him that the tumors were benign. Even when everything felt like hell, I thanked Him for His goodness.