Ten years may sound like a long time, but some days, it feels like yesterday. This May 13 was ten years since I had my brain tumor surgery. I feel proud to have been able to accomplish and experience so much in my recovery. But I also feel blessed to be able to share my growth and achievements with my family and friends. We have all celebrated jobs, promotions, graduations, weddings, holidays, and birthdays and welcomed new members to our families while saying goodbye to loved and cherished ones. We faced hardships, challenges, and painful reminders of the loss of loved ones as well as the loss of oneself as our bodies and abilities may have changed.
I remember vividly sitting in my room at Gaylord Rehabilitation in Wallingford, CT, at 32 years old, imagining who I would be ten years later at 42. It started with picturing myself six months from then, walking again, being hired at the job I wanted desperately, and standing in front of the classroom. To wear the white coat again, smell alcohol wipes, and print patient lists. With determination and the help of an excellent medical team, beautiful friends, and family, all of that has happened, and so much more. I found kindred spirits and was told I am now a survivor, joining efforts to promote brain tumor awareness locally with the Connecticut Brain Tumor Alliance so others could turn to this community. I wrote articles about recovery and brain tumor awareness published in online media. I traveled to Chicago to volunteer at the American Brain Tumor Association, connect with others affected by this diagnosis, and advocate nationally. I’ve had the privilege of teaching at two Physician Assistant Programs. I ultimately returned to my alma mater and developed a deeper appreciation for Halloween with a few noteworthy costumes, often joined by students and colleagues.
I could not drive for a year, only to board planes and travel internationally to France, England, South Africa, Australia, and domestically to Hawaii to celebrate a wedding with good friends. I moved to a new city, afraid to walk its busy streets, only to be walking onto stage two years later at the Tory Burch Foundation Embrace Ambition event to speak to a live audience of over 1000 attendees about living with a disability and believing in yourself. I completed a doctoral degree, was promoted, and was recently asked to be associate program director for an interprofessional program involving the medical college and physician assistant program.
All this happened in the blink of an eye over the past ten years. To my community of friends, family, colleagues, and survivors, take a moment to reflect on the last ten years of life. Celebrate with our journey and the memories we have made. Let’s acknowledge our celebrations, losses, misses, and hardships that we have overcome and still do.
I haven’t finished yet; I’m already planning for the next ten.
A Metro North Brain Tumor Survivor Story- Chance encounter at Grand Central Station Ten years in the later
Yesterday, May 9th, I was walking towards the exit of my jam-packed commuter train when, across from me, two women facing me stopped abruptly. The woman in front looked shocked. I gestured, “Please, go ahead, I’m a little slower.” After a long pause, she replied, “I know you.” I was surprised and then panicked as I scanned her face. I had no clue who she was. Did I work with her, treat her? As we stepped out, I asked her, “I’m sorry, where do we know each other from.” She smiled, “You don’t remember me, do you? I know you from Yale New Haven.” I struggled to think of the floors I worked on until I asked, “The ICU?” She nodded, “Yes, I took care of you.” I was stunned. “It’s been ten years, you remember me?” She nodded. “I’m sorry I don’t remember much initially after the surgery, but thank you for everything you did. I can’t believe you remember me.” She was quiet, staring at me. Smiling. She said, “I remember you, you look great. I’m so happy for you; you’re doing so well.” We parted ways, but I’ve had a smile on my face and joy in my heart thinking of this fantastic nurse who took care of me at such a vulnerable time in my life and remembered me. I teach my students that we don’t stop caring for our patients because our shift is over. We think of them, pray for them, and even ten years later, we remember them.
Thank you to all the Nurses, especially those I have worked with and those who helped me recover these past ten years.
#Happynursesweek!
PS I regret not asking her, but I hope I was nice to her.
May 2022 - Dream Big
Grey isn't the color that comes to mind when one thinks of Spring 🌈, but come May, members of the brain tumor community proudly wear grey.
This Friday, May 13th marked 8 years since I underwent surgery. I've experienced a lot of changes, mostly good thankfully. I celebrated my 40th birthday in January and I found myself back in school to pursue a doctoral degree. On Friday, I successfully finished Term 1. 🤓
I'm also pretty excited to share I have been invited to participate as an audience speaker at the Tory Burch Foundation Embrace Ambition Summit this year. On Tuesday, June 14th I will be on stage to share my journey and advocate for disability awareness. I thought winning a ticket with my essay addressing how I empower women was exciting but to be selected from over 1,000 entries and asked to speak is awesome.
I'm grateful for these unexpected blessings in whatever form they are presented. I'm taking it one day at a time, let's see what tomorrow brings.
Happy Brain Tumor Awareness Month, indeed. 🌻
@ToryBurchFoundation
Healthcare Providers go Grey in May for #BrainTumorAwareness!
Brain Tumor survivors now a Physician Assistant and Registered Nurse promote brain tumor awareness during May Brain Tumor Awareness Month. Both clinicians work in Addiction Medicine, providing primary care to patients undergoing detoxification and both are survivors of a brain tumor diagnosis and treatment.
Read moreRandom Acts of Kindness
Since my surgery I have developed a fear of crossing the street or walking across a crowd of people. Something I had been doing for 30+ years on my own, is now an obstacle which causes me great anxiety. My neurologists have informed me this is common in individuals with movement disorders or those who recover from stroke or stroke like injuries. The thought of others waiting for me to get from Point A to Point B triggers my anxiety and worsens my spasticity, causing me to “get stuck” often in the middle of the street or in the middle of a room. I will watch my paretic side curl in towards the center of my body, making it difficult to step forward, often as if I am walking on my ankle. Botox treatments have been tremendously helpful but that period of time in between treatments can be particularly difficult. There is also no way to predict when the next “episode” will be beyond right before starting to walk.
Since moving to New York City, I have been “stuck” in the middle of a crosswalk twice, once with a bus, cab, and car waiting next to the line, patiently, as I dragged my foot quickly so as not to inconvenience others. I have started to rely heavily on Lyft and Uber as I battle this fear and eventually build my confidence.
A few weeks ago, I attended my first Hartford Yard Goats baseball game for the Connecticut Brain Tumor Alliance in Hartford, CT. I quickly discovered upon arrival that here too I would need to cross a street with significant traffic congestion as eager baseball fans rushed to enter the stadium. I felt anxious, sick to my stomach that I would be stuck unable to cross in front of all of these people. At first, I called my friend and Executive Director of the CTBTA, Chris Cusano, to inform him that I would be unable to cross the street and may return home. I felt embarrassed about being afraid of something as simple as getting from one side of the road to the other but I knew the consequences of not being careful. Eventually, I took a chance and approached a gentleman waiting by the crosswalk for the light to pass to walk. He was with his wife and kids and was wearing sunglasses. Awkwardly, I interrupted his thoughts and said, “I’m sorry to bother you, but I need to ask a favor.” I couldn’t see his eyes but I wouldn’t be surprised or upset if he rolled them. I suspected he expected me to ask for money. He said nothing, waiting for me to ask the favor. I quickly followed my intro with, “I’m having some trouble with my right side and wondered if you’d lend me your arm to cross the street?”. After a moment of letting my request sink in he exclaimed, “Absolutley!”He walked over to my side and said, “How do you want to do this?”. I felt relieved and thrilled by his response and positive energy.
A few moments later, I was walking next to a complete stranger, holding his arm while he carried my sweater. It was a slow, patient walk and despite the crosswalk indicating our time was up, the traffic and police officer directing them, waited as the gentleman helped me to the sidewalk. I thanked him and watched this complete stranger join his wife and kids who patiently waited ahead. It’s a simple story and I am thankful its not the first about “random acts of kindness”. There is no special day in my belief for doing these types of favors, but hopefully hearing the kindness of others can inspire someone to do a favor for another person today. I’ve also learned that no matter how grand and difficult the obstacles we overcome, life will continually challenge and humble us. I have overcome brain tumor surgery, paralysis, learned to walk and drive again, but at this moment its the little icon of a person or the word WALK that blinks from the other side of the street that challenges me most to be better and stronger. Sometimes fear wins, sometimes I do.
To end on a positive note, after a month of avoiding them, I finally crossed a busy NYC street again.
Here’s to progress and random acts of kindness.
Invited as Guest Speaker for Weill Cornell Medical College Physician Assistant Program Graduation White Coat Ceremony
In 2010, my classmates at the Weill Cornell PA program gave me the privilege of speaking at our Certificate and Awards Ceremony for graduation. I am honored that eight years later, I was invited invited back as guest speaker by the Program Faculty to address this year's graduating class of 2018 on May 30th. Much of what I said during my first speech holds true today.
Program faculty honored me with an induction into Pi Alpha - The National Honor Society for Physician Assistants for contribution and service to our Profession.
It was a wonderful end to celebrate Brain Tumor Awareness Month and four years on May 13th since having brain tumor surgery and starting this humbling journey of recovery. Grateful to have been joined by friend/sister and 2010 alumnus Christina Pratt.
Dear Faculty and distinguished guests, I am honored to have the opportunity to address the graduating class of 2018. I’d like to start with one of my favorite quotes:
This quote was made by a man who was a military leader, governor, and the 26th President of the United States of America, Theodore Roosevelt. This quote should resonate with many of you as you look back and consider the amazing achievements you have made here. Remember the struggles, sacrifices, and promises you made yourself a little over two years ago. Think back to that first day you met your peers and observed them as they stood bravely and introduced themselves. You made mental notes of where they came from, what they accomplished before coming to PA school, and what inspired them to want to become PAs. Two years later, think about the journey you have taken since, the difficult and joyous times you have faced, and the bonds you have made together. Today dear graduates, we celebrate this friendship and we celebrate this beautiful journey.
Don’t let the smiling faces today fool you though. This journey has been long and has been difficult at times, forcing you to question your strength, competency, motivation, faith, and devotion. For many of you, it was difficult to be far from those you love and far from the comforts of a previous life. However, you soon found a surrogate family within your program. Today, as you collect your diplomas, these impressive certificates capturing in few words the awesome achievements you have made during your time here, please remember, that there has been so much you have gained in life in addition to what you gained in the classroom. So much that you have learned through friendships, relationships, and chance encounters.
In addition to all you have learned, I too would like to share with you some wisdom I have gained through my personal experience. I was a caregiver during PA school for my mother when she was diagnosed with AML and who ultimately succumbed to her illness. After a short leave, I returned and completed my degree and became a PA.
In 2014, after having only practiced a few years as a surgical PA, I underwent an elective procedure to have a benign brain tumor removed. Initially, I was expecting to discharge and return home a few days after surgery, but instead, became completely paralyzed on my entire right side and unable to identify one half of my body. I was 32 years old.
I was transferred to a rehab facility where after the eventual and painful realization that the landscape of my life had completely changed, I underwent aggressive physical, occupational, and speech therapy to establish what is now my new normal.
From my experience, I have learned that life does not always go according to our plans. It can change suddenly and sometimes drastically. Often, the thing we expect the least to occur is exactly the thing that does and that we find it is that very thing, that we need the most, to change who we are and to change how we appreciate what we have been blessed to have and will have in the future.
My experience as a brain tumor survivor is not unique in that I am an ordinary person who has been humbled by extraordinary circumstances. However, my perspective of this experience is unique as a Physician Assistant. Many of the things that I found most troubling were things I ordered for my own patients consistently and never thought twice about simply because either patients never complained or sometimes I was just too busy. For example, too busy to remember to cancel the order for finger sticks for a non-diabetic patient transferred from the ICU… BUT I REMEMBERED when it was my fingers that were stuck needlessly. Talk about karma. To say that I have been humbled would be an understatement.
Although knowing that there is always uncertainty can be at times unsettling it should not however; prevent us from dreaming and planning for the future. If nothing else, this sense of hope and determination allows us to have something to look forward to, the next day and for the rest of our lives. Whilst in rehab, once I could read and comprehend my phone texts, naturally I decided it was time to apply for a job, …completely discounting the fact that I was still paralyzed and a three person assist for basic functions. I stayed up late one night and the nurse found me finalizing my application for an academic position that I had my heart set on at the University of Bridgeport PA program. After inquiring why I was up late I said very matter of fact, “I’m just submitting my application for a job.” Stunned, she only replied, “I see”, and left.
The next morning, I was somewhat reprimanded by medical staff and counseled to see my new disability and recovery as a vacation. I was told that it would be unlikely I could return to work for a few years at least. After they left my room I felt disheartened and disappointed by the thought of functioning as anything but a PA and considered their suggestion. Unable to accept their bleak perspective, I instead answered enthusiastically when UB called me for an interview that same afternoon. After explaining my situation I was encouraged to call back when physically ready and told that my interview spot would be held if still available. It gave me hope and five months later when I was finally walking independently in my driveway, I interviewed and was hired two days later.
Today I am the Academic Director for the University of Bridgeport PA Program. Since surgery, I have also returned to clinical practice in Addiction Medicine, providing primary care for patients undergoing detoxification. My disability gives me A LOT of street credibility with my patients as it serves as a reminder to them, that we are all recovering from something.
My commitment to patient care and patient advocacy extends beyond clinical practice in that I am a volunteer for the American Brain Tumor Association, an Ambassador for the Connecticut Brain Tumor Alliance and recently, elected as a member of the Board of Directors. One of the best backhanded compliments I have received since my surgery is, “for a disabled person, you sure do a lot.”
I share this not only to highlight how amazing I am, because well I am, but also, so that you can be conscious of your own vulnerability to change and be sensitive to that same vulnerability in the lives of your patients and the lives of their loved ones. Remember that compassion cannot be taught just by words alone, it is a quality that is appreciated in others and developed and fine-tuned within us. As a patient, I experienced firsthand how crippling fear and doubt can be in dampening one’s spirits. So, don’t doubt your patients, you’d be surprised how far someone will go to regain some semblance of normalcy and to accomplish great things simply because they believe they can. With that said, don’t doubt yourself. You’d be surprised what you can accomplish because you believe you can. And like L’Oréal says, because YOU’RE WORTH IT!
Famous words attributed to JM Barrie about compassion, which have resonated with me for the past twelve years as a caregiver, clinician, and survivor are, “Be kinder than necessary, for EVERYONE you meet is fighting some kind of battle”.
Along with compassion, one must also be in constant appreciation of the various blessings we have in our lives. As an alumnus from this amazing institution, I too join you in your celebration of success at Cornell. With all that we have gained from our time at Cornell, we will always remember to give thanks to those who have given their time for our benefit. We give thanks to those who have been forthcoming with knowledge it has taken them years to acquire, but only a few weeks each, for us to absorb the superficial details. We give thanks to those who have allowed for extra time in their busy day so that we may have additional time to practice our clinical skills. We give thanks to the patients and their loved ones, who did not fear our short white coats, who did not fear our beads of perspiration, and for those patients who did not hesitate to be the guinea pigs as we made our first attempts.
Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote,
As you complete your transition into the next phase of your professional careers, think back to your program and remember how blessed you were to have had the opportunity to attend such a prestigious institution. Be proud of your status as a graduate from one of only two Ivy League PA programs in the country. You were amongst the elite few who were chosen to be a part of the Class of 2018 at Cornell.
Give thanks to your program faculty for providing you with their guidance and support. Thank them for opening doors to institutions such as NYP Columbia, Cornell, Queens, to Memorial Sloan Kettering, and to HSS. These institutions, which are held in high esteem the world over, welcomed you and allowed you to be taken under the wings of some of the world’s most brilliant minds. What a privilege it has been not only academically, but from a personal experience as well to shadow clinicians who are considered pioneers in their respective specialties.
And now graduates, distinguished guests, and to the members of the Cornell community, I conclude my time here with you today. Graduates, let me again congratulate you and remind to feel proud of what you have achieved. Take with you the awe and respect for the human body and its many conditions and continue to seek knowledge even as you practice.
Think fondly of your alma mater, it has made you the competent clinician you are today. With that, remember always the strength and determination with which you achieved success in a difficult and challenging program and let that prevent you from doubting your ability in the future. With that, do not doubt your patients either, as they will continue to amaze you when you least expect it with their perseverance, faith, and perhaps good fortune. Be sensitive to the disposition and vulnerability in the lives of your patients and their loved ones. It is what differentiates a good clinician from one that is merely present.
As you don your long white coats and embark into clinical practice, remember that it carries with it a beautiful privilege coupled with tremendous responsibility. I know you will love being a PA and will contribute to the profession greatly. Lastly, remember to be kind, be humble, and be compassionate.
All the best. God bless. THANK YOU
@WeillCornell @UBridgeport @theABTA @CTBTA @AAPA
From Paralysis to Professor: Returning to Work after Brain Surgery
Excited to have my article published online at philly.com Diagnosis: Cancer! Thank you to the American Brain Tumor Association for their efforts in sharing my story and for helping me edit my final piece.
http://www.philly.com/philly/blogs/diagnosis-cancer/Returning-to-work-after-brain-surgery.html
Interview for WTNH: Spreading BTA with Stephanie Simoni
News Channel 8 was on campus this morning! Just finished my interview with Stephanie Simoni of #WTNH for #braintumorawareness and my journey since surgery, especially returning to work. Very grateful for Stephanie and cameraman George for making it a little less awkward to be on camera. Also, big thanks to the #CTBTA for allowing me this opportunity and for my colleagues and students who participated!
Return to clinical practice after Brain Surgery
Today, with a book-bag and stethoscope, I returned to clinical practice for the first time in a little over two years since my brain tumor surgery. For the joy and confidence in seeing patients and working with other healthcare professionals, I am forever grateful for friend and mentor, Dr Daniel Cervonka. For anyone thinking of returning to work at any point in recovery, find what makes you happy but that which fits into your "new normal".
#braintumorawareness
#BTA
#physicianassistant
Seeing Stars & Other Signs of Pain in Recovery & Hemiparesis
About two years ago, I assumed that the brief use of narcotics in the post-operative period would be the extent of my experience and management of pain; however, I have been proven wrong, repeatedly. I assumed my small incision would produce minimal pain, well, until it didn’t.
Initially post-operatively I was well taken care of. The transition of relative comfort to pain happened approximately two weeks later when I first experienced spasticity. I remember mistaking the involuntary movement in my arms and legs as return of function, but learned that it was not, at least not entirely. According to StrokeSmart.org, as a result of an injury to a normal functioning part of the brain, “Spasticity is tight, stiff muscles that make movement, especially of the arms or legs, difficult or uncontrollable.” For two days I went from a compliant and pleasant patient to one that was inconsolable, miserable, and uninterested in PT. My legs felt like a wet towel that was repeatedly wrung out. The nurses were angels who would manually massage my legs to help alleviate the pain. I was started on Valium and Gabapentin (Neurontin) and given Ambien to help sleep at night. Once the Gabapentin levels created the desired effect, others were discontinued, thank God because Valium was horrible.
The months that followed were relatively pain free aside from the soreness of wearing a leg brace or resting my arm on an unkind surface for prolonged periods of time. My paralysis was improving and by mid-September I had begun walking independently in my driveway, enjoying the crisp autumn air. My recovery followed the pattern noted in reduction of brain swelling evident on serial MRIs (every three months the first year). By December, I became aware of movement in my right shoulder and this was the first time I experienced pain since my Valium experience in rehab. The pain was excruciating and I found myself unable to use my right upper extremity effectively or at all, instead elevating it and carrying it like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Naturally my elder brothers in their usual supportive fashion found an opportunity to poke fun at my inability to move my right arm often mimicking its stiffness in conversation. Eh, I thought it was funny too, but I also enjoy self-depreciative humor. This started my eight months of exclusive right shoulder occupational therapy treatments after which I was advised to seek other care as the focus was limiting improvement on other areas of need such as my hand.
I found myself walking into a Naturopathic clinic at the University of Bridgeport. Being one of the coordinators for our graduate Integrative Medicine Course, I kept an open mind. I had friends who swore by acupuncture, so I figured why not. I found acupuncture to be very effective, but extremely painful, which I expected from Eastern Medicine. I noted some improvement in pain, though not completely and not long-term. The intensity of the treatment often resulted in fevers and soreness for two to three days with one day of bliss followed by return of symptoms usually by the time I was due for another treatment. This was a cycle for a few months.
Despite pain in my shoulder, I returned to the gym at RetroFitness in North Haven, CT. Wanting to lose weight and strengthen my body, hoping it would help with issues I have with balance, I found myself going six to seven days a week. Between acupuncture and the gym, I felt I could tolerate the pain and that I was at least trying my best to manage. Unfortunately in December, I started experiencing incredible pain in my left leg, “the good leg”. I awoke one morning to find a red, angry, swollen knee. I remember rolling my eyes and feeling annoyed, I wanted so desperately to ignore it. I felt like Kimberly “Sweet Brown” Wilkins, “ain’t nobody got time for that”. Alas, fearing immobility would affect my ability to drive, I scheduled an appointment with my primary care physician who got me a consult with a Yale orthopedic surgeon stat. After x-rays and an MRI, I was told I had evidence of osteonecrosis, likely from exposure to steroids around the time of surgery. To make matters worse, I fell in the comfort of my home, sustaining an injury that for the lack of a better expression, made me “see stars”. It took me 15 minutes to get off the floor and the next morning I was completely unable to move my right shoulder. It was a devastating blow to my ego and self-confidence. I was referred to Dr. Patrick Ruwe of CT Orthopedic Specialists, who examined my shoulder and leg and said you don’t need bed rest or a knee replacement, you need therapy. So there started my journey with STAR therapy in Hamden, CT where I continue today. I placed my gym membership on temporary hold and workout aggressively at rehab with their amazing team of therapists. It is not without pain, from manual manipulation of trigger points and a rolling pin like contraption for IT Band Syndrome pain, but seeing stars that will result in long-term relief is worth it. I just say to myself, “no pain, no gain”.
This past month I walked two blocks at work for the first time and it felt great to rely on my leg again. To be independent. To feel strong again.
In addition to my shoulder and leg pain, this past month I have started experiencing terrible headaches originating from the incision site. At first I attributed the pain to normal stressors such as work or social obligations; however, the pain progressed from headache to nauseating and debilitating. It often feels like I sustained a recent injury to the incision site. After speaking with my neurosurgeon I was told that post-craniotomy pain was common and again was advised to try acupuncture as there has been relief noted by neurosurgery patients.
This past Friday, I had my recent MRI and was told it was “clean”. I felt such relief, actually blessed. I have now officially graduated my second year since surgery and will only require annual MRI exams instead of every 3 months or six months. I have accepted pain will always be present to some degree or another but that I will have to be more creative in my management.
After all, the show must go on.
I’M LIVING MY LIFE LIKE ITS GOLDEN
Grateful to have been given the opportunity to write a guest blog article for friend and fellow Brain Tumor Survivor, Chris Cusano. Please visit the link below to read the article and have access to Chris's experience as well.
https://greymattersblog.com/2016/02/24/im-living-my-life-like-its-golden/
Last Minute Gift Ideas for Someone Recovering from Surgery in Rehab or at Home
‘Tis the season and my favorite time of the year. To be blessed with the love of family and celebrate the holiday season in good health is truly a wonderful gift and a luxury afforded to many, but sadly, not all. When thinking of what to gift those recovering from surgery, I have a few suggestions which may lessen the stress associated with their transition from life before surgery to the “new normal”. These are just some of the things others were kind enough to provide me with or that I was able to obtain eventually that made life a little easier, more entertaining, or more manageable.
1. Netflix
Most that know me well know that I do not own a TV. I catch what I need on YouTube and Google, the movies, or when I visit with friends. Once I had surgery, life became stagnant and a little boring so my dear friend Christina was kind enough to provide me the gift of Netflix. I will forever be grateful to her as I caught up on some gems that I haven’t seen in ages and formed some new addictions. If you asked the nurses where my room was they would tell you just listen for the Cheers’ theme song or Law & Order, SVU and Criminal Intent. Seriously you can’t go wrong with this.
2. Crossword Puzzles
My favorite. Initially after surgery, I had great difficulty with reading and comprehension. I would have my brother respond to text messages as I could not formulate the responses myself. One day my therapist provided me a photocopy of a crossword puzzle, elementary level, and I remember feeling very frustrated as I could not understand how to complete it. It was extremely challenging and humbling but by my second month in rehab I was able to do them without covering the letters. It’s a great way to pass time in rehab or at home and extremely rewarding to progress in terms of level of difficulty. Many local Dollar stores even carry them so they are reasonably affordable and can be included in a gift basket.
3 Toiletries & Undergarments
One can never have too much of either. Truth is when you are disabled, temporary or otherwise, these are hard to come by on your own. I’m not saying go out and get Victoria’s Secret thongs but the Hanes 10 in a pack cotton underwear are the best when you want comfort over style. As for toiletries, pharmacy stores like CVS or Walgreen's have a travel section which sells travel sized shampoos/ conditioners, body washes, toothpaste, deodorants, skin creams/ lip balms which would be great in a gift basket.
4. Electric Heating Pad
Many people recovering from surgery can feel sore not only from pain at the surgical site but from surgery itself. Laying on an operating table under the effects of anesthesia is extremely stressful for the body and can be fatiguing. I myself have benefitted from a heating pad for sore muscles in my legs or back related to overuse or spasticity/ tone and it has served as a suitable alternative for days I do not have therapy. They’re very affordable and will be appreciated by anyone who is in need of them. If within your means, consider the alternative of massage therapy and treat them to a session. You can find great deals on Groupon.
5. SAS Orthotic Shoes
I’ll admit, not the sexiest pair of shoes, but hands down the most comfortable and safe. I have tried multiple brands of shoes as I tried to hold on to a sense of style only to find myself dangerously close to losing my balance and sustaining an injury. For anyone that requires the assistance of a leg and foot brace, you can understand my frustration. Often I felt like the two step sisters from Cinderella trying to fit my brace into a sexy pair of Nike or Puma sneakers, but alas, they were not for me. SAS though costly, are practical, safe, and giftworthy.
6. Electric Razors/ Toothbrushes
First of all I’d recommend anyone going in for surgery to pack these as the surgical course one can take is unpredictable and these come in handy for rehab. There are many to select from and are very affordable. As someone who lost function of an entire side of her body, this was one of the first things I purchased on eBay from rehab. Gifting it would avoid the hassle for your loved one. Of course you could bypass the need for shaving and buy a Groupon Deal for laser hair removal, they could get four to five treatments in for around $100.
7. Hands Free Hair Dryer Stand
This Holiday season I give thanks for the relief afforded me with this simple yet amazing invention. My lion’s mane is much more manageable with a hands free stand that fits most hair dryers. I have purchased mine on eBay, but please use caution as not all stands are made equal. I personally have found the Tripod shaped stands to be most convenient. My hair may not look perfect most days but there is something to be said about the confidence one has in being independent and self-sufficient, even if only a little.
8. Apps Subscriptions
Great stimulating games which help pass the time when everything is a little too quiet. Here is a list of apps shared with me which stimulate brain activity by improving memory, attention, and ability to complete problem solving activity. Farmville for fun is great, but perhaps in addition to these:
i. Lumosity, Elevate Brain Training, Word to Word, Sudoku -some are free and can be combined
ii. My favorite, anyone recovering from weakness or a stroke, Dexteria. Only $3.99 for the app but it’s great.
iii. Bundle: Motor Skills Medley- Visual and Fine Motor Skill Apps $8.9
9. Candles/ Diffusers
Aromatherapy is very calming and uplifting, especially when combined with classical music. These are relatively inexpensive items which can be purchased at a variety of retailers in stores and online. Take caution with candles and gauge appropriateness for the individual and or residence.
10. Food
Cooking after surgery is the last thing anyone wants to do. Having groceries delivered to the home of an individual recovering is a great gift and easy with services such as Stop & Shop Peapod for example. You can even help pick items which are nutritious and supportive of healing and recovery.
11. Laundry Service
I was very fortunate that my family would do my laundry for me and it was a huge relief. To not have to wear a hospital gown and wear regular yoga pants and t-shirts allowed me to feel “normal”. This would be a tremendous gift for a loved one or friend recovering from surgery. If you are unable there are online services which you can use to schedule a pick up and they will get it done. For example www.care.com has housekeeping and other services which would be useful for someone in need.
12. Flowers/ Balloons/ Cards
I absolutely loved coming to my room after therapy and finding a beautiful vase of flowers delivered. This never got old and even after rehab I have kept my cards and rosaries my friends and family sent me, some in my office at work. It is a beautiful reminder that I was not alone in this journey.
13. Company
Of all the things aforementioned, company is the best gift you can give someone who is recovering. Some of my favorite memories from rehab and then home involved watching movies with my brothers or sitting with my friends or father in the courtyard of rehab. I feel blessed to have had family and friends who made the experience less difficult, so if that is all that is in your means then trust it is enough and far more valuable than anything retail.
One year work anniversary
Blessed to celebrate my 1 year anniversary today. Four seasons of growth, laughs, and support by an amazing group of colleagues and students. As I sit here with my colleagues enjoying tearful laughs, I think of last year and I am grateful I took the chance and applied. One of my favorite quotes my cousin shared with me, 'If your dreams do not scare you, they are not big enough.'
This way Forward: Finding Hope in the Face of Adversity
We are often reminded by our circumstances that life rarely goes according to plan, and when it does, it is indeed a rare blessing that must be treasured. The past year alone has been a harsh and humbling reminder of this. But even with such uncertainty, one must always keep moving forward and appreciate that any situation has the potential to get better. It is with this hope that I have overcome significant challenges which have threatened my resolve on more than one occasion. I have also had the privilege of meeting others who inspire the same feelings through their sense of determination and their unwillingness to remain stagnant. As the end of October nears, I look back, proud of the accomplishments I have made as well as those made by others on similar journeys.
Firstly, I have to start by mentioning one of my new favorite bands, Broca’s Area, and fellow central-neurocytoma survivor, Chris Cusano, who with great effort and dedication to brain tumor awareness hosted an event September 19th, “Playing for the Cure…Brainstormin’”. The event was described as “A give back music festival to benefit the Yale Brain Tumor Center” and featured along with Broca’s Area, was the equally amazing, Goodnight Blue Moon Group. The night was filled with survivors, supporters, clinicians, musical talent, and the raw energy of those passionate about the cause. Mid-way through the event, neurosurgeon Dr. Joseph Piepmeier, M.D. of Yale New Haven Hospital graced the stage and before starting an inspiring speech about the Cusano family, he humored us with the repercussions of his ill-fated choice of selecting none other than a Pabst Beer. After his perfectly delivered commentary about his subpar beverage, he moved us with his appreciation of the generous contribution the Cusano family has made to benefit the much needed and ongoing research efforts in treating brain tumors. More of Chris, his family, and the event can be read on his blog at:
http://greymattersblog.com/2015/10/08/turn-the-record-on-its-time-for-something/
Next, I was able to participate in the much anticipated, “Path of Hope” by the CTBTA at Hammonassett Beach in Madison, CT. Meeting other survivors and volunteering was truly inspiring and heartwarming, but nothing compares to the tremendous gratitude I feel for the CTBTA and Kimberly Canning for bestowing on me the privilege of announcing the Reginald Anderson Memorial Scholarship. It was started in honor of a young man who tragically lost his battle with brain cancer but who will forever live through his legacy of giving back. Additional information may be found at www.ctbta.org. With my own University of Bridgeport PAI graduate students present, I was not only allowed the privilege of honoring Reginald but afforded the opportunity to share my journey from being a clinician now working full-time in academia; hence, why I was so honored to have been asked. The event also featured guest speaker, Amanda Tronchin, who shared her harrowing experience, her triumphant recovery, and current status as a college student at Northeastern University. All the individuals I encountered whether they be survivors, caregivers or clinicians inspired hope and the feeling was truly infectious.
After the event, I signed up for a local gym membership at Retro Fitness to continue where I left off at with outpatient Physical Therapy. I could not be more enthusiastic about starting this endeavor as I feel I have been blessed to find a facility that is not only near my residence but also one with a staff that is caring and supportive. At first, I was apprehensive about using the equipment or participating in a fitness class as I have difficulty either maintaining balance or with keeping my right leg on the machines. I felt like all eyes would be on me but I quickly realized that others were inspired by my coming to the gym when they approached me and told me that if someone with a cane can come, then they had no excuse. So today, I celebrate two weeks since my return to the gym and I hope to keep going and participating in the classes offered.
Lastly, this past Friday I had my first 6 month follow-up after a year of having MRI’s every three months. As always, Dr. DiLuna provided me with the images from my MRI and thank God, I was blessed with a negative scan. I was grateful to share that since my last visit with him, I was now driving and had regained a little more sensation and movement in my foot. With some encouraging words from my surgeon regarding my own concerns, I was on my way with the hope that my progress will continue with more to report at my next appointment six months from now.
In conclusion, I have learned and sometimes still struggle to remember that you have to keep going and plan for tomorrow. If nothing else, this sense of determination will give you something to look forward to, but throughout the process, you just have to keep hope.
It Takes a Village
Most have heard the saying, “It takes a village to raise a child”. While I wholeheartedly agree with this, I also feel that this applies to healthcare and needing a village to heal patients as I have directly benefited from the efforts of my “village”, or per the ABTA, my commYOUnity. It is probable that I would have had similar success as I do now with surgery and therapy alone, but the quality of my life would have significantly lacked in comparison if I did not have the emotional and personal support I had and still do. To have traveled this journey alone seems unimaginable.
It wasn’t until December of last year that I felt well enough to start exploring avenues to get involved and possibly become a mentor or “buddy”. My desire to do so was inspired by my own struggles as I found myself often frustrated with the lack of clarity surrounding my diagnosis and then with recovering from disability. I would ask what I thought to be simple or general questions only to receive the run around. Was I the first brain tumor patient these individuals have ever encountered? Am I the first disabled person asking for information on the best course to be independent again? Driving was a huge goal I wanted to accomplish and for months I sought information or assistance but found myself directed from one person to another.
This passion also led me to the American Brain Tumor Association (ABTA) and the Connecticut Brain Tumor Alliance (CTBTA) . I was fortunate that through my efforts to advocate with ABTA, I was invited to Chicago where ABTA headquarters is located for the annual Patient and Family/Caregiver Conference at the end of July.
At the conference, I learned about current treatment methods and innovation in the areas of neurosurgical and neuroncological medicine. I remember hearing stories of other survivors and all I kept reveling in was, “they get it”. It was at that moment that I felt my struggles and concerns were validated by this amazing group of individuals who each struggled with and continuously persevere against a diagnosis that has wreaked just a little bit of havoc in their lives. I had never met any of them before then and yet I felt like I could relate to them and that we shared this bond through our experience.
This theme of comradery and commYOUnity was also relevant in the distinguished panel of speakers at the event including Drs. Susan Chang, Mark Johnson, Erik Sulman, and Joon H. Uhm to name a few. During one of the case review panel board seminars, whilst discussing the benefit in patient care with a tumor board vs a single MD approach, Dr. Lorenzo Munoz, a neurosurgeon at Rush University Medical Center, stated “I’m a smart guy, but I’m not smarter than all of us collectively”. It was a statement which was appreciated and applauded by many attendees who have personally benefited from a collaborative approach.
Later on, I was afforded the opportunity of attending a lecture given by APRN Kathy Lupica on “Quality of Life: Managing your Symptoms & Finding Support”. It was a humorous lecture with a touching tribute to the recurring theme of community in the lives of many patients.
Another inspiring aspect of the conference was the opportunity to hear actual patient and caregiver experiences. Two couples were asked to speak of their experience. Meet Martin & Karma who have bravely battled Martin’s Glioblastoma diagnosis and Donna VanRyn a 9 ½ year Glioblastoma survivor who credited much of her success to the love and support of her husband. They also echoed the sentiments of many gathered to hear their experience, particularly Donna, who stated she has done so well that people have a hard time registering her illness. “I look too good to be ill to others”. Overall, the conference was an amazing experience and an opportunity to meet wonderful individuals who will be partners in the continued effort to advocate for brain tumor patients and their caregivers.
Back in CT, I followed up the conference with the Connecticut Brain Tumor Alliance “Night of Hope” with attendees, friends, and fellow brain tumor survivors, including Chris and Ashley Cusano. It was an amazing evening of music, inspiration, and of course paella. We gathered and watched Morgan Platt’s rendition of “Fight Song” by Rachel Platten. We then ended the evening with inspiring words by Tracey Gamer-Fanning, President Emeritus of CTBTA. A 9yr brain cancer survivor, mother, wife, and relentless advocate whose message ensured that those present to hear her speak that night will never look at brain tumor patients the same again.
To say that I have been inspired by these two organizations, their members, and fellow volunteers is an understatement. I have recently been matched with another brain tumor patient and though she has mentioned that my random calls have brought her some joy and comfort, I make sure she knows that by allowing me to be a part of her community, she has done the same for me. So indeed, it takes a village to heal a patient.
Inspiration
It’s amazing how much can happen in one week, let alone in a year. Things can change in an instant, we can be set in our ways and all of a sudden be presented with an obstacle or opportunity depending on our circumstance and outlook. How we then handle that situation can be a source of inspiration for others. In my own experience, I’ve been grateful to receive words of encouragement regarding starting a blog and the honor of being called “inspiring”. But truth is, if I’m any such thing it is because I have been inspired myself and continue to be so regularly. I have benefited from knowing certain individuals, learning from their determination and perseverance, and above all else, experiencing their good will. Well, just this past week, I was reminded of the blessing of meeting or knowing of such individuals and I have been truly inspired.
First, I was fortunate to participate in the Gaylord Health Gauntlet 5K Obstacle on June 27th, 2015 in Wallingford, CT. It was an amazing opportunity for me as it marked the one year anniversary of the event from when I was an inpatient last year. This year I was front row and center, cheering participants as they neared the finish line. As a volunteer I was assigned the fire pits, three holes dug in a parallel fashion in the ground with burning wood and flames threatening to engulf those that jumped across. It was the last obstacle on the way to the finish line and the runners came tired, sore, some bleeding from their knees, and alternatively, a few that had trained for months who breezed by like gazelles in the Serengeti. The runners were soaking wet from the water slide in the previous obstacle and grateful for the warmth as they neared the fire. My job was to cheer them on, “make it look easy!” I yelled. “Finish it like a champ!” calling them by their numbers. Later in the week, many came up to me in Rehab and told me I was their favorite part of the course. What can I say, I have a gift.
Although each participant was enthusiastic despite their exhaustion, the most moving were two gentleman in the end whom I see at rehab regularly. As we neared the last hour of the event, there was a buzz that two former patients, Robin & Mike, were participating this year for the first time. Because of some of their physical limitations, a few of the other volunteers who happened to be some of our therapists were actually volunteering to join and assist them as they completed the course. All who witnessed the two men round the corner and walk towards my obstacle were visibly moved. Two of the therapists grabbed one by the arms helping to lift him as he made his way over each pit. I cheered him on as he made his way over to the finish line. I was inspired and hope that next year I too can do the same.
You can read more of this story and see more pictures at: http://www.myrecordjournal.com/wallingford/wallingfordnews/7441496-129/gaylord-gauntlet-5k-obstacle-course-offers-challenges-rewards.html
Second, the Connecticut Brain Tumor Alliance (CTBTA) sent a message to some of the members in addition to posting on social media that a young brain cancer survivor (11 year old) Morgan Platt was making a music video to Rachel Platten’s inspiring song, “Fight Song” to raise awareness regarding brain tumors. Along with other survivors and members of the CTBTA she was documented by News WSFB Channel 3 on July 1st. Some may be familiar with Morgan because she made a video in 2013 to Katy Perry’s “Roar” which featured staff and other pediatric patients at CCMC. Her story was featured in the Huffington Post and her video went viral on YouTube. I have a great deal of respect for this young lady for having endured so much and yet finding the courage and drive to spread awareness. She is truly inspiring, and I suspect, this is only the beginning as we can expect so much more from her.
You can read more of her story and watch the touching video at:
Lastly, this July 4th marked my one year anniversary of my discharge from rehab, and like Tim, Robin, and Morgan, this event too was inspiring. As I think back to coming home this day last year, I remember being wheelchair dependent, first person assist. My dad with his semi-thick South Asian accent would tease me, “why are you on a leash?” as my brother would support me with a gait belt at my waist throughout the house. This July 4th, I fully celebrated independence from a patriotic standpoint and a personal one and yesterday, I received my graduation certificate after finally completing one year of intensive physical therapy.
In the end, I have been reminded that inspiration comes in many forms and from all kinds of people in life. One must be open to experiencing it and also wise to learn from it. I hope and look forward to continue being inspired and also to continue being a little more inspirational myself.
Now that you’ve been referred, here’s how you can prepare for your consultation with a specialist:
1. Prepare a Folder or a binder with your medical records:
I did this for my mother when I was her caretaker and it reduced her anxiety and stress as well as that of my own. I organized the binder with tabs labeled as: Provider Info, Patient History, Directions but you can organize per your preference.
Provider Info: I listed the physician’s name, number, location, and specialty. Be sure to include your primary care physician and/ or any referring physician. I also listed social workers and clinical care coordinators who facilitated my mother's care and discharge. Home Health Aide agencies, medical supply companies, etc.
Patient History: I photocopied my mother’s insurance card and kept a copy in the binder as well as a copy of her driver’s license. I then included a Word Document with notes regarding her MD/ Hospital/ Homecare Visits as well as all documentation they provided.
Directions: To various sites we would visit.
Please use caution as sensitive information must be safeguarded. I kept the binder with me at all times unless my brother or other family member I trusted was assuming duties.
2. Keep a list of current Medications:
This includes those that are prescribed to you as well as anything herbal and over the counter. You can add this list to the binder as well as keep a fold out mini medication card in your purse or wallet. Ask your MD’s office for one, most will have one readily available for patients to fill out and use. You can include pictures of the pills prescribed to distinguish by appearance.
Here are some sample tables I made:
3. Bring any CD’s or images with you.
In some cases, the physician to whom you are referred will have you complete certain diagnostic tests prior to your consultation. Depending on their access to the testing facility, you may have to bring a CD/copy of the test results with you. Sometimes you will be given a copy at the time of the visit, other times you will need to request a copy from the Medical Records Office. I had a neurosurgical consultation with an MD in New York and brought my MRI CD with me so that he could make his assessment. Don't rely on the referring physician to fax or mail them, it could delay your appointment.
4. Avoid “Google” and the act of self-diagnosing.
Did I listen to that advice? No, of course not. But I wouldn’t be a true advocate or PA if I didn’t at least tell you not to. Yes, it is reasonable and expected to be curious, but don’t assume that you have everything you are reading about. Often, you can spend (waste) valuable time with the clinician discussing hypothetical situations instead of addressing key findings/ indicators, a list of differentials (possible diagnoses based on findings/ clinical presentation), and treatment options or future outlook. DO however, google specialists involved in the general area of the problem, if known. You MUST do your due diligence and be your own advocate or one for someone you love if you are a caretaker. Educate yourself on providers who are known for the “problem” you are seeking help for. There are organizations which can help guide you. I've listed a few for brain tumor patients and cancer patients on my Resources page.
5. Bring a tape recorder with you (especially for those with phones not equipped with one).
Ideally, you can bring a friend or family member with you. Often, hearing words like “tumor, lesion, cancer, surgery, stroke, etc.” are enough to shock anyone, and not remembering key details of the visit is frustrating and frightening. Sometimes with my own patients, I would find they wouldn't tell me if they didn't understand something out of fear of embarrassing themselves or appearing unintelligent. I had a background in medical sciences so I was able to be a crutch for my mother but even I found some jargon to be beyond my comprehension at that time and would do additional reading to learn. Then, I was fortunate in that two of my dear and close friends went with me to my consultations separately and they were both in the medical field, but not everyone has that luxury. Ask the physician if they wouldn’t mind you recording the conversation and review the file aftewards.
6. Asking Questions
A clinician should be understanding and compassionate to what you are feeling and having to deal with. Don’t feel nervous to ask a question, it is your RIGHT. Ask what their experience is with your particular situation. Ask if anyone else in the practice also performs/ treats these conditions. (You should google them too)
The American Brain Tumor Association (#theABTA) shared an amazing list of questions to keep with you for your appointment and I would strongly encourage you to look at them or share them with someone you know visiting with a specialist.
http://www.abta.org/resources/care-and-treatment-section-resources/questions-for-health-care.pdf
7. If you’re specialist recommends surgery:
Regardless of the type of surgery and reason, basic questions applicable to all are what is the “usual” amount of time for duration of surgery? What imaging or testing will I need prior to surgery? What is the expected recovery time immediately post-op and when are patients discharged home typically? How often will I require follow-up care or visits with you?
For those with a tumor: You will likely be given information regarding location, size, quality or appearance on imaging, etc. Additional questions to consider include: What is the rate of recurrence? What are contributing factors which increase the likelihood of recurrence (genetics, previous recurrence, exposure, etc.)? Will I need chemotherapy or radiation (even if prophylactically)?
8. Don’t be afraid to ask for a referral if you would like a second opinion.
You should never be uncomfortable or hesitant to seek a second, third (etc.) opinion, unless you are comfortable with the first, and only you can judge that. As a patient, when my surgeon suggested I consult with a surgeon in NYC, I felt comfortable with him and appreciated his willingness to recommend someone. And yes, I did seek another opinion from the neurosurgeon he recommended. How many should you have? Too many sources can be overwhelming and counterproductive. Only you can gauge how much is enough, but use caution. Spend your time and energy wisely. For me I needed it for my ongoing recovery after surgery.
9. Update your provider visit information in the binder after your consultation.
Jot down key points from your appointment. It makes a great reference and no second guessing, ‘wait, did she say this was the next step?’, ‘what did he want me to do?’ It can be overwhelming, and for me it was. But, you figure out shortcuts, a rhythm, and slowly you feel like this (organization) is one thing right now you can control.
10. Lastly, keep a positive and proactive outlook and try to have a sense of humor despite the craziness.
As insane as this may seem, even when you are dealing with the worst, laughing can be therapeutic. It may not happen at first. It certainly didn’t for me but by my third appointment I was past the disbelief, emotional stage and in tune with my personality, I got to the acceptance and proactive stage. At one particular visit, I remember sharing with my MD and a mutual friend, also a physician that I read some patients develop serious personality disorders even becoming promiscuous after neurosurgery. Having lived a fairly conservative life, I stated I thought promiscuity would be preferable over death or neurocognitive decline. Luckily, since my surgery I’ve not suffered from death, neurocognitive decline, or the development of a loose character.
7 Things Most Patients Don't Want to Hear When They're Recovering from Surgery
1. You look Great (when we don’t):
This can be perceived as pity, especially if we’re alert and oriented enough to detect it. It’s not that we don’t appreciate the fact that you’re trying to be kind. It’s just normally, we would put more effort into our appearance than just waking up and sitting around in a hospital gown covered with mouthwash from the swish and swallow the nurse had us do earlier. I don’t remember feeling self-conscious until the day I was being transferred from the hospital to rehab. As I was being lifted into the ambulance, I remember catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror by the exit doors and I was mortified. I looked like the young girl from the original Exorcist movie and that’s an understatement. The gentleman who was getting me into the ambulance saw the color go out of my face and said “awe, honey. It’s not that bad. You look fine.” I would have honestly preferred cousin It from the Adams Family over the girl from Exorcist, only because It’s hair was smooth as if it was just treated with a keratin blow out. Just saying, priorities.
2. No, You don’t look Different to Me
This was in response to my growing concern that my face along with the rest of me was starting to blow up from the high dose steroids, commonly known as “Moon Facies”. Obviously, when it’s happening, which is over a long period of time, the patient doesn’t notice right away so I didn’t expect my family and friends to either. But eventually, when I did start to notice, I was frustrated when people would say I don’t notice anything different, you look fine or you look the same. I tried to explain to a friend visiting me in rehab and the only way I could describe it is that my face looked like it ate my previous face. When everyone kept telling me I look like my normal self, it made me feel HORRIBLE. I kept thinking, OMG, is this what I look like all the time? Luckily, one of my closest friends, kept it real and was the first one who basically said, “No girl, you have moon facies.” I was all golden after that.
3. You Should Really Try to Do More so Your Progress is not Stagnant.
All of a sudden, everyone becomes an expert after YOU have surgery. This statement in particular was one of the most frustrating. I’m a pretty positive person but losing function on my dominant side and spending all day trying to compensate with its counterpart was emotionally, mentally, and physically frustrating. Then add the unsolicited advice or commentary that I am not pushing myself to my potential was not only diminishing my efforts and the improvement I was making but also my spirit and self-esteem. I literally would stay up late after everyone left and try to move my right side or stare at my hand, leg, and foot and think please move, if only a little. And that was devastating to an already bruised psyche, until it finally happened.
4. So are you ever going to be normal again?
I was asked this ALL the time, just yesterday in fact by someone close to me. This to me is as bad as asking, “when do the doctors think this will be fixed?” As a clinician, I can assure you, just like all five fingers on your hand are different from one another, so are patients and therefore, recovery is extremely unpredictable. When I was first told in the hospital that I was paralyzed, my surgeon honestly believed and convinced me as well that the swelling would diminish and I would awaken one day and be back to baseline. So naturally, I woke up EVERY single day for three weeks and the first thing I would check is if I could move my right side. And every day, I would be crushed to find out I couldn’t. I kept thinking if not today, then maybe tomorrow and it was a vicious cycle. One day, I decided that I would no longer think that it would be a miracle overnight and the sooner I realize this will be a process for a “while”, the better I’ll be. It was only until that moment, that I felt a tremendous burden was lifted off my shoulders and now I still take it “one day at a time”.
5. You should be grateful, just look at so and so.
This was definitely from a positive place as well but not always well received. Even though I tried to remain optimistic and keep moving forward, there were and are days where I will wake up and I’m in a funk. I feel like the donkey from Winnie the Pooh, Eyeore, “woe is me”. This can happen to anyone on a good day so certainly after surgery it would not be uncommon. And especially earlier on, the last thing I wanted to hear was about someone else’s hardship. Sometimes, it would add on and make me feel worse and worry about them too.
6. Maybe you’ll meet someone in rehab.
To put it in context, I was in the stroke unit and I was a 3 person assist for transfers, bathing, and how do I say this delicately, using the “powder” room. Even in this condition, there were people who unfortunately were worse off than I was. Indeed, a love connection was neither expected, pursued, nor had. That storyline is cute in Lifetime movies only, thank you, or rare real life stories in something like Glamour magazine articles. Maybe it’s just my luck or unrealistic expectations that one day I’ll meet a younger version of Liam Neeson. Hey, stranger things have happened, but I digress.
7. You should enjoy your time off from working and look at this like a vacation.
Truthfully, I probably was naive enough to say that to someone before too. But let me tell you about my vacation. Once a week I would be startled awake at 3am not because a tropical breeze blew open the windows to my luxury suite, but because the tourniquet was keeping a choke hold on my arm so that the tech could draw labs (blood). And then, I would stay wide awake until 6am when I would have to use the “powder” room like clockwork. Because I couldn’t just get up and go, I’d have to page the nurse’s station and wait for 3 people to come all while struggling to control my bladder, the urge was more intense after surgery for some reason. They, the nurses, would then help lift me up, put me in the wheelchair and transport me to the “powder” room and in the end, I’d have to page them again so they could lift me up and put me on the wheelchair to bring me out. After this morning ritual, I’d have a day of PT, OT, and speech therapy where I would have to learn how to solve basic math problems of addition and subtraction, test if I could remember words like colors, objects, and pets. But, mostly I would spend a great deal of the time struggling emotionally with why I was having so much difficulty completing these easy tasks. So no, that is not a vacation. Don’t get me wrong, the resources and assistance I had were a blessing and I mean no disrespect for I am very grateful, but let me be clear, it was not a vacation and I certainly wouldn't have bought a timeshare if it were.
All of these commonly used statements came from a good place but hopefully I was able to illustrate in this article, the effects it had on me as I was recovering from a traumatic event in my life. If anything, my hope is that perhaps someone else recovering from something in their life may not have to deal with these emotions too.
In hindsight, there was beauty in Recovery
Last June, my father called me from work one day while I was in rehab and sensing my spirits were low sent my brother Faraz to cheer me up in a way that only he can. My brother, despite my protests of feeling embarrassed regarding my appearance, took my picture and told me, a year from now when you're no longer on steroids or in a wheelchair, you'll look back and be proud of getting through this. Well, it's been a year, so I've decided to share the pics in case anyone else is dealing with something too.