May 4 of last year I was supposed to go in and have my brain tumour removed. Unfortunately, I was bumped for more emergent surgery and had to wait another week. I had to wait another seven days to have the golf ball sized tumour removed from my head.

So, it was May 11 of last year I popped a quetiapine for my nerves and my mom took me into the Royal Columbia’s Hospital in New West Minister for my brain surgery.

There is a reason that people use the term, ‘It’s not brain surgery.” To describe a task. Brain surgery is one of the most intricate surgical procedures out there. Screw up and you can cause numerous side effects. Loss of speech, loss of memory, change in motor functions and death; just to name a few. To say that I was scared was an understatement.

Here we are, just 360 days, 5 days short of a year later. Most days I don’t even think about my surgery. It is just a faded memory of the past. But some days are not so good. I woke up gasping for air and clutching my chest this morning.

A vivid memory of the day they diagnosed me. Four days after my first MRI that my neurologist called and told me I needed to go into the emergency room immediately because they found a tumour. Do not pass go, do not collect $200, do not freak out, do not cry.  Here is a short video of my experience I AM STRONGER THAN A BRAIN TUMOUR.

I remember that day like it was yesterday. Sitting in the ER all alone. Looking around the room at all the faces as I sat in the corner and fought back tears in my eyes. Despite the crowed waiting room all I could hear in my head was the neurologists voice and I fell more alone than I ever had in my life.

This morning as I sat wide awake on the edge of my bed the memories of my surgery came flooding over me.

Half groggy with the anti seizure meds and pain killers I remember the surgeon coming into my room afterwards and telling my mom that they got the whole tumour out and it was benign. I don’t remember much that day in recovery but I do remember that.

I was suddenly filled with hope and I felt like am million pounds had been lifted of my chest. Sleep was welcome. I slept 18 out of 24 hours for the first few weeks post op.

Here I am today. 12 months later. It is brain tumour awareness month and I am beyond aware of the effect this little monster had on my life. 12 months today since I had a craniotomy to remove my tumour and 12 months today that I learned that I did not have cancer.

One year – My entire life has changed.

Facing something like this changes you.

I am a different person today than I was back then.

12 months later I wonder if I life will ever be normal again.

If you have never been in a doctors office or ER and been told a diagnosis like I was; you are lucky. But for those of you who know what I am talking about. That moment plays back some days like a slow motion scene in a movie.

My throbbing headache went away after about 6 weeks. But randomly I would stabbing pains in my skull where they cut it open. It would catch me off guard and only last about 5 minutes but it is a painful reminder of what happened.

The first six months was awful. I was tired physically, mentally and emotionally. Simple tasks that once came like second nature suddenly became overwhelming events. Brushing my teeth left my shoulder sore and climbing a small flight of stairs felt like Everest.  6 Months Post Tumour Removal

And the last six months have not been easy either. For different reasons.

I will never know the full extent this tumour effected my life. Neurologists don’t fully understand how the brain works so much of the information I have received is a grey area.

#1 – BE GRATEFUL – Being grateful is a term I understand to its core. Here in North America we take so many things for granted. Others I have met on this journey are still fighting. Loss of vision, financial ruin and even death are things that I did not have to worry about.

#2 – YOU LEARN WHO YOU CAN REALLY COUNT ON. People will come and go. But true friends will stand by you no matter what. I have done and said things that I am not proud of. I wish with my whole heart that some of the people that I hurt would just talk to me. Instead of blocking my calls and ignoring my messages. For a long time before and even after my surgery I was in a very dark place. I was sacred and anxious and I am not proud of what I did or some things I said. A handful of people have allowed me to talk – and I gave them the same space. It was not easy conversations but our relationships are stronger because of it.

#3 – THINGS MIGHT NEVER GO BACK TO NORMAL. I still don’t know how to accept this part. But it seems to be the number one lesson that brain tumour patients have to learn. Your brain effects everything in your life. Every single thing you think, say and do. There is not enough science to be able to pinpoint every possible cause and effect of a tumour removal in the brain. Even though my outcome was ultimately as positive as I could have hoped for, the experience still sucked. I don’t know if I have started to accept that things are different now, or if I actually did return to some semblance of normality. I think it is a combination of both.

Thank you for all your support. Thank you for your kind words and comments and questions and understanding. This month is Brain Tumour Awareness and I am raising money for this cause. They do walks across Canada with the them that no one with a brain tumour should walk alone.

If you can find it in your heart to donate even $5 to my team for this, I would appriciate it. But even if you can’t, if you live in the vancouver area please come and walk with me and my friends. This has been a horrible journey and I don’t want anyone else going through it to walk alone.

Lacey Lee Elliott