Friends, thank you for your kind reactions to Saturday’s update. For appreciating my rawness and vulnerability, reminding me that my former self is a person you loved and enjoyed, and sharing in the hopefulness I feel this side of surgery.

There’s one thing I’d like to speak more to before sharing about Thursday’s post-op with Dr. Coimbra. I included in that post several plot points within a timeline of 1) tragic or tough life events, 2) notable decreases in my capacity, and 3) significant shifts in my ability to emotionally regulate myself. That timeline was designed for my own sanity as the scales began to fall from my eyes and I realized how sick I’d been. It was also created for Dr. C to reference when I asked him my two most pressing questions since surgery:

How long do you think the tumor has been there? Is the growth / size of a meningioma associated with trauma, stress or anxiety?

We know now that this timeline is best used to show when my capacity began to tank, my anxiety spiked, and my patience plummeted. Meningioma growth is not known to be associated with exterior stressors or trauma.

The internal struggles I experienced are ones many people without brain tumors struggle with every single day: depression, apathy, brain fog, etc. Yes, I had physical displays of my tumor's effects (progressive vision loss, headaches, lack of smell), but I had reasons to explain those away. For my vision, it was an initial diagnosis of dry eyes (something I had never experienced before) that led me to think I needed to be more diligent with eye drops. The headaches I chalked up to age, anxiety and a possible allergy. The lack of smell came just a few months after having Covid.

I had all the reasons in the world for “brain tumor” not to come to mind when trying to figure out why I felt off. The idea that I may have some sort of physical intruder disrupting my functionality never crossed my mind.

Now I can sit with a thankful heart knowing that still, God’s timing is perfect. While lack of follow-thru and apathy are side effects of the pressure my tumor put on the frontal lobe, visiting a therapist would never have led me to an MRI as quickly as vision loss did. I am thankful I didn’t travel down a years-long path of finding the right antidepressant or anxiety medication, which never would have worked due to the tumor's placement, all the while my side effects would have been hitting critical mass.

Dr. C described in my post-op appointment on Thursday that our frontal lobe is where “we” are. I found his phrasing so beautiful. How explanatory that the very characteristics that felt so natural and enjoyable to me had been deteriorating before my eyes.

I mentioned sensing that I had two “nose dives” along my timeline. One of them was the beginning of this school year, August 2023. A question I ask myself several times a day is, “What if the emotions and struggles I sat with there, at nearly the highest peak of my heartache, are actually “me”? My natural tendencies and hang-ups?”

All I know to say is, “If they are, He is still good!” What peace it gives knowing this physical blockade is now gone and I can pursue true healing in those areas. Rather than what would have been a false start.

Dr. Coimbra Post-Op Notes:

• Dr. C’s primary goal for surgery was a “complete resection” — i.e. get every piece of the tumor out — and that was a success! He told me surgery “Could have only gone better if you just didn’t have the tumor in the first place.”
• His secondary goal (though out of his hands) was for the pathology report to come back Grade 1, which it did!
• My post-op CT showed progressive healing and no tumor remaining! Any swelling shown will continue to decrease, but the brain has largely “filled in” the space formerly stolen by the tumor. See photos above.
• We were shocked to learn that the tumor completely eroded a portion of my skull base (deep behind my eyes, between my nose) that divides where my brain and sinus cavity are. They built a “wall” to replicate what had been there with metal and belly fat (yep). This is not the metal plate on my forehead, which covers the hole created by the cranioplasty. See photos above.
• My staples are out! It didn’t hurt at all and I was honored to be my tech’s first full “headband” patient. My incision has healed well and I only have about a quarter-inch strip of shaved hair following my incision from ear to ear.
• The rate of my cell reproduction found in my pathology report is 3%. He said anything between 3-5% is “not bad.” I’ll take it!
• We learned the main side effects of my seizure med are appetite suppression and nausea. A wonderful combo! Dr. C is comfortable cutting my dosage in half and then stopping completely in 2 weeks.
• My questions about short-term memory, energy, etc. were answered by, “time.” I was hoping for a magic pill! My mind feels like it’s moving a mile a minute but my body just isn’t ready.
• My entire olfactory system was taken with the tumor. The tumor had almost completely engulfed it. I’ve been living without smell for over two years, so this wasn’t a big surprise to me. Strangely I’ve had a few instances post-surgery that I could smell things clear as day. When I told him he said, “Well, I don’t know! I guess it sounds like a miracle!”
• I will have MRIs (and office visits with Dr. C to review them) at 3 months and 12 months. Until then, his strict instructions were to “go live your life!”

Overall, it was a very celebratory appointment! Before taking a picture he said he wouldn’t be smiling, “Because I want the tumors to respect me.” and hey, I get it. I want them to respect him too!

Throughout all of my pre-op appointments I would tell other specialists how grateful I was to have the number one meningioma-focused neurosurgeon just a few miles from my house, and each time they would nod their head in agreement but also add, “Yes, but he’s also the number one in the world.”

“I know that you can do all things; no purpose of yours can be thwarted. You asked, ‘Who is this that obscures my plans without knowledge?’  Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know.” - Job 42:2-3

“Things too wonderful for me to know.” Thank you, Lord, for orchestrating my story to ensure I not only found an excellent local surgeon, but for providing me moments of unexpected assurance that he was the best. Dr. Coimbra, you’ll forever be my hero.