Here's my first oil painting:
Reflections of Calm - June 2018 |
Sharing my story about life before and after brain tumor surgery
Reflections of Calm - June 2018 |
I just finished reading When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi. The author is a neurosurgeon diagnosed with and eventually succumbs to stage 4 lung cancer. In his book, he gives a detailed account of his time in residency and raw depictions of the medical procedures required to obtain his medical degree. Oddly enough, some of what he wrote about regarding the brain I've become familiar with. The many years of living with a pituitary tumor have given me a basic education on the structure and function of the brain, so I could envision what he was describing. However, his narrative is so thorough that you don't have to be a brain tumor patient to understand. By relaying his own experience with sickness and death, Kalanithi's book sharpened my focus by reaffirming my resolve to live contentedly with pituitary disease and see there can be hope in suffering.
As I neared the end of the book, especially when reading the epilogue Dr. Kalanithi's wife wrote, tears rolled down my face at her description of his final days. My aunt died from stage 4 cancer last summer, so much of what Dr. Lucy Kalanithi wrote was strikingly similar to my aunt's experience - the chemo treatments, trips in and out of the hospital, and the quick breakdown of the body as death approached. Nevertheless, I found a measure of solace in the book and the authentic way Dr. Lucy Kalanithi writes about her husband's death (and the days that followed it...). Her words may be helpful for anyone dealing with chronic illness or cancer.
Tuesday, March 13, 2018
I participated in the BT5K event for the American Brain Tumor Association. For the past few months, I've increased my time and distance on my runs and built up enough strength to join a 5K. I've been looking forward to participating in this event for years. Unfortunately, the end didn't quite work out as I thought. I was so sore [from running] I could hardly walk the day before the event. I nursed my pulled muscles with ice packs and prayer and purchased a brace to help with the leg and back pain.
On the morning of the event, I was still sore but feeling better and determined to run with my music playlist carrying me through the event. I'd never run with a brace before, so it was a nagging distraction because it constantly inched its way up my waist, refusing to stay put during the 5K. As I neared the finish line, my playlist stopped working when I was to exert all my energy and run as fast as possible to the end. I was forced to finish with no music, exhaustion, and the heat bearing down. So I began to think of scripture (Hebrews 12:1-2, 2 Corinthians 12:9) and just prayed. I realized in the moment it was probably good the music stopped because I was more tuned into my increasingly strained muscles and didn't overdo it. Also, I could hear the cheers of the people waiting at the finish line and didn't care anymore about my time, whether I could run or walk - just that this race was over and now I could rest.I didn't consider this 5K a race but merely a way to challenge myself to beat or run/walk my usual time for 3.12 miles. My best time when I run at home is 00:38:34, but the day of the BT5K it was 00:42:09. Nevertheless, I'm grateful to have been able to run. I also wanted to support this organization and bring awareness for pituitary tumors and acromegaly. This BT5K was an inspiring event. Hundreds of people showed up to honor a loved one who has succumbed to a brain tumor or currently battling one. More information about this organization is here: abta.org
Redondo Beach, California - August 2017 |