#5: Don't Wait...And Other Lessons a Brain Tumor Taught Me

I've had some time on my hands lately, and with anxiety reaching a fever pitch in 2023, much of it was spent deep in thought. Most recently, I capped off a terrifically challenging year by watching my only younger sister endure an eight-hour brain surgery, in which she was awake 90% of the time. By any measuring stick, such a procedure would intimidate the likes of even a Navy Seal.

Just one day before her surgery, we took a long walk down a wooded path near Duke University in Durham, North Carolina. The warm afternoon sun was peeking through the trees. Her eight-year-old boy was entertaining us with silly bathroom humor. For a moment, we almost forgot what the next day would bring. She was calm, engaging, and at peace. This was the second attempt to resect a 1.25-inch cancerous tumor located deep within the pits of her brain. She is likely the only one in the family who could handle it once, much less twice. The rest of us? We were great examples of panicked hot mess expresses.

Early the next morning, I watched my sister walk into the surgery reception area as cool as a cucumber. She checked in and headed to intake with the Duke University Hospital nurse, offering us a wave and a slight glance over her shoulder. She looked as though she was going to give blood, not have her cranium cut open. #nope For eight hours, the neurosurgery team at Duke (some of the best in the world) used their highly skilled hands to remove the cancerous cells. She was awake and interacting with the medical team the entire time. By the grace of God, the doctor miraculously resected nearly all of the tumor we thought was previously inoperable. He was elated with the result, and we were in shock. He had given us a Christmas miracle. A few cells remain and time will tell what happens next, but for now, we take a collective exhale.

The next day I took a solo walk along the same Durham path, watching kids and their moms skipping, men riding their bikes, and runners hitting the pavement. Blessings abound, I began to think about the lessons this experience taught me and the cliches I can take away from watching my sister, and my entire family, endure such trauma.

Don't Wait, Because Life Doesn't.

It was August 2017. One day she was playing tennis, the next she learned she had been diagnosed with a brain tumor. For six years, she managed chemotherapy, anti-seizure medications, organic eating, blood tests, dozens of MRIs, immunotherapy, regular visits to Duke, and oh yeah, two brain surgeries. Yet, all along, she continued to make life happen. She self-published an education book, got a better-paying, job, was recognized by Transylvania University in their Athletic Hall of Fame, and traveled to Italy, Hawaii, Canada, Las Vegas, and more.

Sometimes I think we (and by we, I mean me) tend to put off what we want to do "until things are better." We wait and wait for the right moment, missing opportunities to grab life by the horns along the way. We put life "on pause" until the trial or the surgery is over, the test results are back, or we land that perfect new job. I've put off so much waiting for just the right moment. Life will happen whether we like it or not. Don't wait, because life doesn't.

Courage is Cultivated.

A friend of mine posted a quote on social media today that read, in part, "You don't just stumble upon courage, you cultivate it." The quote got me thinking about the mindset my sister must have had as she lay on her side for eight hours while doctors worked diligently on her open brain. It was courage that allowed her to take the risk in the first place, recognizing that it could have resulted in the loss of speech or her motor skills. She told us it was "mind over matter." I think it was courage in the face of fear.

The courage to do hard things is like gardening; it is cultivated over time, and I believe it breeds resilience and strength. We aren't necessarily born with the courage it takes to face difficult circumstances, but as life throws us curveballs, we cultivate it one challenge at a time. I remember several comments from well-meaning friends this year, when I was laid off for the second time since the pandemic, facing divorce court and two full hip replacement surgeries, about how they "can't imagine" dealing with it all. My response? What choice do I have? Maybe by the time I faced these challenges, and by the moment my sister was forced into her second brain surgery, we had cultivated just enough courage to handle it all so well. After all, it's "mind over matter."

Fear Has No Place When Faith Is in the Room

Are brain surgeries scary? #yes A cancerous brain tumor is possibly 100 percent the scariest medical diagnosis one can receive. Yet, there are so many scary situations many of us face every single day. My 10-year custody battle with my ex-husband and a two-day trial with a domestic relations judge was scary. Finding myself immobile and having my daughter wheel me around in a wheelchair was scary. Attending dozens of interviews every month is scary, even with practice. Yet, I'm convinced that the power of prayer can help us overcome our fears every single time.

Last week, when we traveled to Duke University, we knew the prayers of many were leading us. I come from a small town, where everyone knows your name. So many people lifted our family in prayer. As we sat for hours in the waiting room, there was a sense of peace and even lots of laughter among us. There is no doubt in my mind that the grace of God and the power of prayer made her Christmas miracle possible. We are eternally grateful.

I have to admit, I'm incredibly thankful that 2023 is coming to an end, but I'll leave you with one last cliche. Everything truly does happen for a reason.

Cheers to a new year, full of possibility, courage and faith. #2024 #newyear