Physical Therapy – baseline

I had my first PT appointment on Friday and have my second one, tomorrow. The assessments I went through were comical. When you only have one balance nerve to keep you upright and you close your eyes while standing with one foot in front of the other, you fall over. When you close your eyes and turn your head from side to side, you fall over. When you try walking with your eyes closed, you can’t walk in a strait line and your physical therapist has to stop you before you run in to anything. Looking at my current abilities, I suppose there are two reactions I could have had – laugh or cry. I chose (and continue to choose) to laugh.

Based on my performance, you can probably guess what kind of exercises I was given to work on. Twice a day, I need to stand with my feet staggered, eyes closed, and move my head. I also have to turn 45 degrees and then back to my original position with my eyes closed. During testing, the therapist saw that my eyes make a slight jerky movement when they move from right to left. She gave me an eye exercise to work on that issue as well.

As part of the review of the appointment, my therapist asked how realistic I thought it would be for me to work on the exercises she assigned on a daily basis. My response was, “I’m extremely motivated.”

Color changing unicorn

Shecklets 3 and 4 received a package while Jake and I were in California and inside were two unicorn mugs. Their Uncle Jason and Aunt Bri thought they’d enjoy the fun surprise that takes place when you add hot liquid to the mug. It’s so much fun being a girl!

Three weeks ago – the patient’s perspective

It’s hard to believe that these were taken three weeks ago.

Before I was wheeled into the OR, Jake whispered, “I love you” one last time into my right ear.  Hearing those words in that moment gave me a last boost of courage to face what I knew was going to be a very rough 24-48 hours.  When I woke up from surgery and looked at the clock on the wall, the entire wall fell to the side.  This happened every time I opened my eyes.  It was nauseating.  Yesterday I walked three large laps at the mall with my mother-in-law and today I walked around our block on my own.  It is amazing how quickly our brains can adapt to major change.

I’ve been reflecting back on the last three weeks a lot lately.  So much has transpired in such a short amount of time.  I had brain surgery and was discharged from the hospital three days later! That blows my mind. When I left the hospital, I was still dizzy, and not completely balanced, but mostly capable of walking on my own.  That blows my mind.  The prayers and emails, texts, and blog post comments continue.  That blows my mind. (And also makes me smile.)

There have been a few people throughout this ordeal who have told Jake that they started praying for me after not having been to church or praying in years.  Others have shared that reading about what my recovery has entailed has caused them to “reset” so to say and not take for granted the simple things in life that they are able to do without thinking twice – walking, picking something up off the floor, driving kids to and from.  I’ve even heard that kids have told their parents they are praying for me (without any prompting.) <Insert my tears here.>

After I was told I had a brain tumor last fall, I began to pray for healing.  It seemed like a logical prayer request.  Little did I know I should have been more specific.  God saw it fit to start healing areas in my life that I didn’t realize needed healing.  It took facing Norman to bring me to a place where I could see that my perspective on certain relationships needed a major adjustment and helped me realize areas in my life that were broken.  It has been hard – probably the hardest six months of my life, and I know He’s not done with me yet.  But I’m grateful for the chance to see how God is using it all – my diagnosis, surgery, and recovery, in ways I never imagined.

Eviction Day for Norman

I’ve been planning the title of this post for months.  Today is the day.  No turning back.

I didn’t sleep last night.  I rested fairly peacefully (outside of some intial tears when I laid down,) but I feel relatively peaceful right now.  The last two nights I’ve slept with the prayer shawl that was given to me after mass on Sunday.  Not only did the soft yarn bring a physical comfort, but it was emotionally and spiritually comforting knowing the number of prayers that were offered up during it’s creation.

We’re supposed to report to the hospital at 6:30 AM local time.  There’s a short surgery before mine and then the operating room will be turned over and I’ll be brought in.  I’ve never had general anesthesia, so there are many unknowns for me.  I’ve been told the first couple of days are going to be especially rough – nausea, dizziness (from losing my balance nerve,) and pain.  After those hard days, it’s supposed to get better.  Lots of walking = how my brain will learn to compensate for the loss of the right side balance center.

Please keep up your prayers for me.  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. So many unknowns surround the one surgical known – I’ll be single-side deaf.  But there is also one known that is bigger than all of this, than all of us.  God’s love for me is unfailing and I believe He has been and will continue to guide me on the path to healing – wherever and however that healing needs to take place.

Last mass with two “working” ears

Unbeknownst to me (but not that he was keeping it a secret,) Jake reached out to friends of ours at our church prior to our last mass there before leaving for San Diego with this message:

“As you may know, Veronica and I are leaving for San Diego on Sunday afternoon. In this blog post, Veronica mentioned the music at St. Paul’s. We have discussed our last pre-op Mass as a family a few times. If your schedule allows, would you please sit near us during the celebration of Mass at St. Paul’s at 8:30 this Sunday? Being literally surrounded by our Parish Family during Mass will help Veronica greatly. I don’t intend for this to be a surprise but a simple show of support for her.”

There is something about the physical presence of someone who you know cares about you that can bring a sense of peace – even for a short amount of time.  I experienced that peace this morning.  Yes, there were tears, but also a true understanding that God is in control and I have an army of prayer warriors supporting me as I face surgery and the start of recovery in the coming days.

ETA: The following post was written by a friend on Facebook on 1/22/18.

Yesterday after Mass, I had the privilege of witnessing an amazing outpouring of love and support for a beautiful young wife and mother of four who will be undergoing brain surgery tomorrow. Her husband, Jake had arraigned for people to sit around or near Veronica during Mass as a sign of love to her. What happened after Mass will forever be etched in my heart and soul. After the final song, 15+ women surrounded Veronica and gently, lovingly placed their hands over her and prayed as she wept and released her suffering at the Foot of Christ’s Alter. When I lifted my head, I saw Jake sitting at the end of the pew surrounded by 15+ men with their hands outstretched in prayer beseeching God Almighty for strength, wisdom and peace for Jake and Veronica. Several of the men were holding their young children as they prayed. I can’t fully describe this beautiful outpouring of love and support from The Body of Christ, but I’m confident the Lord heard our prayers and will shower them with grace to follow this path placed before them. Please pray for Veronica tomorrow at 7:00 a.m. Central time as she takes the next step in faith and love. God bless you, Veronica Cimperman Sheck.

P.S. I might add that we are praying for a miracle that Veronica will NOT lose her hearing in one ear when the tumor is removed. Like my husband said, “Praying that Norman (the tumor’s name) will just peel off and leave everything else in tact.” Doesn’t hurt to ask.

Glow-in-one

Larissa came over earlier in the day and entertained/watched the kids so Jake and I could get some last minute house things in order before his parents come tomorrow. House is clean, laundry is almost caught up, schedules for the next two weeks are ready to go.

After mini-golf we went out for dinner and came home and played Telestrations. Jake read to the boys and I laid in the girls’ room and talked with them before saying goodnight.

I am really going to miss our kids.  Deep breath.  I hope I can sleep tonight.

T minus one week

One week from today I’ll be rolled in to an operating room where a surgical team will save my life.

Writing that just stopped me in my tracks.

If I hadn’t pursued the bothersome pain in my ear a year ago, if my recurring sinus infections hadn’t annoyed me to the point where I sought treatment from an ENT, if I hadn’t stopped to take the time to take care of myself, if I hadn’t finally had an MRI done, I still may not know why the right side of my inner ear hurts, or why things just don’t quite feel right.

If left untreated, this tumor could cause significant side-effects, including death.  It’s hard to believe that something so slow-growing can do such damage to a person.

Shecklet #3 has been having a particularly difficult time with the idea of Jake and me leaving for two weeks.  I get it.  I don’t want to leave my kids either.  But I remind her (and in doing so, remind myself) that I’m leaving because I need to.  I need to have this stupid brain tumor removed so I have can have the opportunity to be there for my husband and kids in the future.  I know I’ve got a long road ahead of me.  I’ve heard recovery sucks.  But if going through all of this means I get to live, then let’s go.  Norman has overstayed his welcome.  (Actually he was never welcome in the first place!)

I had a change in perspective today.  A while back I wrote about the “lasts” that I would be experiencing between then and my surgery.  Today I realized that while yes, that’s true, after surgery there will be a plethora of “firsts” as well.  And even though I’ll be experiencing sound in a dramatically different way, those are things I to look forward to.

Approved!

I spoke with Kris at UCSD a little while ago.  She shared that the surgical coordinator spoke with my insurance company yesterday and it’s official, surgery is a go for 1/23. The exact time may change from what I was told several weeks ago, but only by a few hours.  I will know the definite time when I have my pre-op meeting with the surgeons on 1/22.

Jake asked me how I feel now that I have this news.  Honestly, I think I’ve reached the point in the process where I’ve accepted what is in front of me and I’m ready.  I know there are still many unknowns (e.g. How will I handle anesthesia? Will they be able to remove the entire tumor? What will the impact on my facial nerve be?  How quickly will I regain my balance? How will the adjustment to SSD go?) but I will face each one as I’ve faced my initial diagnosis and I know I’ll get through them.  I’m not anticipating any of it will be easy, but I know I’m not alone.  I have the love and support of my husband and kids and so many others who have stepped forward to walk through this alongside me.

Now my focus can shift to prepping things for the Shecklets and my in-laws for the two weeks we’ll be gone.

T minus 2 weeks.

Winter work

I love seeing the artwork that the kids create at school. Shecklet #3 brought this home today. One of her favorite things to work with are oil pastels.

She also did a recap of her Christmas break.

Boxes checked

We found out back in November that our insurance would be changing 1/1/18.  Nothing like adding more excitement to the Norman situation! However, Jake’s employer was kind enough to give us the heads up so we could check to see if my doctors and the hospital would still be in-network after the change.  Thankfully, they are, but the 1/1 change meant that I’d have to wait another several weeks before requesting “official” approval from insurance that I can have surgery on 1/23.  (I’ve only been “penciled in” all this time.)  I called UCSD today to provide them with my updated information and let the patient navigator know that the university should be able to contact my insurance to request the approval.

More waiting, but we keep moving forward.  Plane tickets are purchased, I have all kinds of pre and post-op appointments scheduled, and once I know the date is “official,” we plan to book a VRBO property for the time we’ll be in CA.

T minus 20 days…