Little Package Laced in Platinum

The platinum box

     When I found out I had another brain tumor, and that's why my body had suddenly gone against me, I had to accept that I would never be the same as I was before. For life I would be on antiseizure medication and for life I wouldn't have one moment that I would be able to forget the annoying little thing in my head.

     Unlike the other brain tumor, this one could and would cause me many problems if I didn't bend to its will.

     Once a person who chased their dreams with a violent fervor, now having to slow down and treat my body in the one way I never really did. With care.

     An adjustment for me, and those around me who were used to more from me than I could now give. I got angry, they got angry, but there was nothing else I could do except slowly push on. Still I struggled further.

     No longer the powerhorse of a woman I thought I was. Going from working for everything I desired and aimed for to working  to undo the damage the untreated seizures left in their wake, and keep them under control. I felt weak and vulnerable.

     Something I hated most.

     Yet in that vulnerability and in that weakness, the anger and the struggle, I learned something. The dreams I chased before, and now wobbled to, didn't change that I was still headed there. That beneath it all- nothing could stop me.

     The little steps, they just became more meaningful. The limits I just learned to work with. Kind of like a turtle with its heavy shell but strong legs moving along at a gentle slow pace.

     I was going to get there, even if it wasn't fast or beautiful, or fun. It still wouldn't break my heart or me. I'd say it could be worse but even then I wouldn't give up. I know that now. The old adage was true, it's not the goal but the journey that makes us. That completes us.

     Brain tumor, seizures, and all. I am still complete. My dreams will be too.