Over these last four plus years I've been poked and probed and had plenty of tests. But today's test was brand new. It's full name is quite a mouthful: electroencephalogram. So I understand the need to shorten it down to EEG. It's surprising, really. With my history of seizures and a pre-disposition towards them, you would think I would have had this test years ago. But no. It all started the day before Halloween. It was a Friday afternoon. One of the last warmish days before the chill of autumn and its cousin, winter, would knock on our door. So we bullied our kids into doing some yard work. At least, that's what it feels like when you're a teenager. But any parent knows that making your kid work outside builds character, helps to foster a sense of pride, gives the teen a constructive outlet for their resentment, and most importantly, ensures that you as a parent don't have to do it all yourself. There were various tasks being assigned: raking leaves, sweeping leaves, bagging leaves, collecting pinecones, cleaning out garden beds, and mowing the lawn one last time. I started on the garden bed and discovered a gargantuan zucchini that we had neglected. I harvested the zucchini and carried it around the yard like a small child to show everyone. Then I took it inside and set it on the counter then went back outside. Well, it was Elena's turn to mow this week. First, she tried almost every excuse in the book to get out of mowing. After 10 minutes of trying to attach the bag on the mower properly and feeling like it wasn't collecting anything anyway, she was reduced to tears. She gave up on the bag and resigned herself to the fact the grass clippings would just have to be raked up afterward and bagged with the leaves. This story is too long already. I was trying to show empathy and kindness, so I came along behind her, raking and bagging grass. I'll admit it, I'm out of shape. I did as much as I could, and then I went inside to rest in "the orange chair". I find myself staring at the kitchen counter. I remember wondering where the huge zucchini came from. Our crockpot was also out on the counter and I was a little irritated, because I didn't understand why it was out. The next thing I know, Jacob is telling me to put on my shoes, because he's taking me to the hospital. Evidently, I had asked about the zucchini and crockpot several times and it was apparent that something was wrong. What I remember: We passed the hospital by our house. Then I understood that he was taking me to the U of U hospital. He was going too fast on the interstate - like triple digits! I keep asking him about the zucchini. All of a sudden we have escorts. There's a state trooper in front of us with lights and siren. I alternate between laughing and crying. At first I feel silly for not being able to remember stuff, and so I'm giggling with embarrassment. And then I'm crying because my husband is worried enough about me to speed to an ER in another city. And that scares me. A lot. To be continued...
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December 2020
About MeMy name is Andrea. I'm a Mormon mom in my 40's and I am fighting a rare type of brain cancer: Anaplastic Astrocytoma. |