"So, You Have a (small) Brain Tumor"

Determined to get this big ball of change rolling, I was legit 2 weeks out from resigning & had JUST moved back in with my OG roommates, when right on cue, life threw me a curve ball. (Probably the only baseball reference I’ll ever make bc idk anything about baseball nor do I know what a curve ball actually is in reference to the game, BID…)

I had been experiencing some pretty crappy chronic health issues for years and to make a seriously long story short, had an MRI of my brain and received the not-so-good news from my doc at 7:15 am that early-October morning. I knew when I answered the phone and heard her voice that it wasn’t going to be good news. They had found a “lesion” aka a small tumor (8mm to be exact) in my pituitary gland, the master gland that sits in the back of the brain.

She assured me that everything was going to be alright and we’d figure out a way to treat it… and said I should not freak out until I went to see a pituitary specialist and did additional testing. So naturally, I freaked the F out because:

1.    I was SCARED AF and had a bunch of worst-case-scenarios swirling around my mind

2.    I was literally ABOUT TO QUIT that day to start “living my dream.” Like, really universe? REALLY?!

I was down and depressed and woe-is-me’ing hard for a few weeks. I felt like a zombie at work. Tears would randomly start pouring down my face several times per day, brought on by someone simply smiling and asking how my day was going:

“Oh I’m fucking great, Brad! Everything is great!”

OR by one of many excel spreadsheets I was staring at… although, staring at excel spreadsheets had brought me to tears on multiple occasions prior to learning I had a small brain tumor, BID…

As you can imagine, I decided not to quit this bitch because I obvs needed stability (and my health insurance) while sorting out the matters of my brain. (There were a lot more doctor visits on my horizon.) So my dreams took a backseat.

I was really frustrated at first, but soon thereafter decided I should stop being angry and negative and sad. Albeit tough to avoid, especially in those moments when my sister *bless her heart* would get teary-eyed and say things like:

“I’ll shave my head with you, in solidarity”

Me: [eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed, blinking a few times in confusion] “Why the fuck would you shave your head? Wait no, why the fuck would WE shave our heads?!”

She then explained to me (not in as many words) that if I had to undergo brain surgery (as she’d already thought up in her mind) they’d have to shave my head to be able to perform the surgery, which would be a huge downer for someone like me whose Persian hair was thick and luscious and basically half my identity, so she would shave her head, too, so that we could both be stripped of our Persianness together- bald & ugly, holding hands, skipping off into the sunset…

~ We ride together, we ugly together. Sisters 4 lyfe ~ 

Yes, that really happened and yes it was more than one time and yes I love my sister so much and she was only trying to help… me feel worse about life. (jk)

Whatever was in store for me would not be improved by my feeling sorry for myself or “what-if’ing” about scenarios and events that had not yet occurred. So I started meditating more (thank you, Headspace) and continued hot yoga-ing and running as moving forms of meditation. I really began to try harder at having more of a positive outlook on life- and to be completely candid because that’s how I roll, it was not easy for me.

I’m not a naturally peppy person when it comes to matters of my own life. I’m friggin’ Positive Polly when it comes to my friends, and am always the one that tries to uplift people, to pump their tires when they’re feeling deflated, to empower them to do the things they’re scared of because:

“GIRL! You’re fucking amazing. You’re beautiful and smart and funny and clever and kind and generous. You’re a badass b**** who is strong AF and can get anything you want out of life because of your drive and motivation to be better!”

But when it comes to myself, those motivational talks and positive thoughts don’t come as easy. So I finally decided to take my self-improvement and growth journey (I know, cringe) to the next level.

I (finally) started going to therapy.

I found a very likeminded therapist that was just an eight-minute walk from work, and visited her once a week during my lunch break. I think therapy was the tipping point for my personal development. It helped me sort through a lot of shit during those tough months.

————-> Shout out and major props to therapy; therapy is the best. Everyone should go to therapy. Whether you’re going through a crisis or just need someone to help you sort through any type of turmoil you may be experiencing within yourself, with your best friend, your mom, your sister, your man, your woman, your job, the general state of the world we live in. Whatevs. Whatever it is, a good therapist ALWAYS helps.

Any who… I was being positive, living my life; I even forced myself to give into online “dating” and signed up for Bumble. Because what better time is there to start awkwardly dating than when you’ve just been diagnosed with a brain tumor?! Makes for a killer response to the riveting question “so tell me something about yourself.”

And let me tell ya, I went on some pretty epic Bumble dates. And by epic, I mean beautifully awful.  (maybe I’ll share one of those stories with you soon?) But I was just SO delighted by the hilarity of some of these encounters because I knew they’d make for fantastic stories… BID.

In addition to seeing Arlington’s wealth of fine talent, I was also seeing several doctors and specialists all over the DMV who were collectively stumped by my case. None of them could determine WTF was actually going on with me. They all said something along the lines of:

“We can’t tell if you actually have a tumor, but the entire gland looks (scrunched up face) weird.”

My blood work kept coming back “normal” so no treatment plan could be put into place because we didn’t know what we were treating. I felt hopeless, defeated, exhausted and a little crazy because friends and doctors would tell me that maybe “it was in my head” or “stress” or my “over-exercising”…

Me: [eye roll, deep breath, smile] “Nah, I’m pretty sure the slew of symptoms I’ve been living with for YEARS, affecting MY BODY daily, is not just stress” (all of you who’ve experienced chronic illness or symptoms can relate)

All I could do for now was wait until my next MRI, and do whatever I could do to be my healthiest and happiest self in the meantime. So that’s what I did.

Moral of this story? You can’t control most things in life. The things you can control, you usually work hard to do. But the things you cannot control are where the real work comes in. The real work is in your mind, which I think we can all agree is the hardest place to work & can have abysmal working conditions! But by taking small steps to try to get your mind right, to continue living with drive and motivation, and being happy whilst doing it? That’s growth.