Salty Zebra

      The ten days leading up to my surgery date were full and challenging. We left very early Friday morning to drive across the state and share the news of my brain tumor with my brother and my middle son.  Our hope was to fly, but the flights were all full.  I think the drive was good for us though.  The mountains were absolutely beautiful. Snow, frozen waterfalls and lakes, everything seemed intensified, even more beautiful than usual.  As I sat in my brother's home that afternoon with him and his wife, knowing that I had to share soon, butterflies filled my stomach.  I couldn't believe how nervous I was. My heart was racing and I had trouble catching my breath. Finally my husband signaled me that I couldn't wait any longer and I needed to get it over with so I prefaced it with a request for secrecy regarding what I was about to share until all of my kids had been informed and then shared the news.  They were understandably shocked, but very loving and supportive.  We e

     Ten days after I received the call letting me know that they found something on the MRI I was sitting in the office of a Neurosurgeon.  I have no doubt that God orchestrated the circumstances that had brought me there, including a friend who is also dealing with a brain tumor recommending this clinic. But how could any of this be real? Only a couple of people knew what was going on, but there wasn't much to know before this appointment. All we had were a few key phrases on the MRI Study Result and our dear friend, Dr. Google.  I went into the appointment with the impression that the doctor would either recommend watching and waiting- doing another MRI in six months and seeing if anything changed- or taking it out right away.  In previous encounters where the option was to wait or do something I have vastly preferred doing something, but this time it was different. I had read about the potential complications of surgery and I was scared.  Not to mention, needing to act right aw

    In honor of the one-year anniversary of hearing I have a brain tumor I am launching a series today that will cover the whole story. You may have heard pieces of it here, on Facebook, or even in person, but this will paint the whole picture in one place. It'll take a while to unravel the full tale, but I wanted to break it up into digestible bits. I hope you find it is worth the wait. You may find some of it familiar as I have reused pieces of some former blog posts, no sense reinventing the wheel! Part One We see it in movies and TV shows, but we always hope it will never happen to us. The phone rings and it's someone unexpected, a police officer, a relative, a doctor. They give us news we weren't expecting, and from that moment on our lives are forever different. And it's not just our future that's different. We begin to define our past as "before" and "after" this life changing news.  I got the call on Monday, February 27th, 2023. Ironicall

      When you find something that works, its such a blessing!  I've struggled for years with not being able to use hydration supplements, like the Nuun that my husband uses or the Zipfizz that my mom and my son use, because of magnesium.  For whatever reason, my system is 100% against me putting ANY amount of magnesium into it orally.  I've had to do IVs, take baths with pounds of epsom salts, and I've tried the magnesium oil, but wow it stings! Even the 25mg of magnesium in Nuun was too much for me, and I've struggled with hydration for some time, quite ironic when living the the wet and green Pacific Northwest! About a month ago I happened upon an ad for these Buoy hydration drops on Instagram as I was scrolling.  I moved on but the idea stuck in the back of my head.  A little later I checked them out on Amazon, but I still wasn't ready to invest $10 a bottle for these. When I later saw an ad for their chronic illness program I was hooked.  They give a permanent

  Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.  2Co 4:16-18 NIV      It's been nearly a year that I've been on this journey. Really, it's a continuation of a journey I've been on far longer, actually all my life.  None of it has been easy, but I feel like I'm past the worst bits.  Today I live in the reality that I have a brain tumor.  That's tough.  I also deal with the pain and challenges brought on by Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome and Lyme Disease.  My days are pretty simple, without room for complication.  80% or more of my energy is devoted to doing what I have to to maintain life.  Pacing is a tool I've had to learn inside and out, managing my spoons so to speak.