It has been six years since my diagnosis and three years since the resection of my Grade II posterior fossa Oligoastrocytoma. Believe it or not, it is almost like it never happened, except in December when I religiously have my MRI every year.
I do not look forward to the worry that precedes and follows the MRI for weeks until the doctor calls and gives the "all clear" sign. During this time, I search the internet for clues, a hidden message or a nugget of information that I have missed. I usually spend countless hours searching for the magic answer to the questions, “How long will I live?” and “Will the tumor ever come back?”As my annual search comes to a fruitless ending, I have always known the answer - there is none. And you know- I am okay with that.
My sons are growing. One of my sons made it to the Cal Ripken World Series and came in 3rd place. My older son plays high school baseball and has decided to be an Anesthesiologist based on my brain tumor experience. My sister got married, my husband turned 50, my dad turned 70 and I was here for all of it!
The goodbye letters I wrote to my husband and children have remained hidden and untouched since my 2006 surgery. I thank God everyday because I realize how REALLY blessed I am.
There is something to be said for not knowing when the end is. We live every day like there is another, except we (survivors) savor every moment because we never know when we will find the answer to the question. So in the end, maybe we do live every day like it is our last.