My Brain Tumor Diagnosis & the Gift of Denial

Denial is a wonderful thing. It provides the hearer of bad news a required reprieve. A few moments to pause, and not believe the truth that is beginning to become a part of their lives.

I found this all out the day I was diagnosed with a brain tumor.

As all extraordinary days do, this day started out as normally as any other. My grandson and I had gone to the YMCA where I exercised three times a week. The building was being renovated that day, and there was a strong smell of fresh paint. It sickened me, and I didn't want my grandson to have to inhale it, so we left early.

When we got home we went into the kitchen and I began to make lunch. As always, he was standing by my side. I looked outside and it was as if the sun caught my eye and would not leave. The glare would not stop. I looked at my three year old grandson and he began to double. First, there were two of him and then he split in half. I felt a little nauseous and the visuals were really lighting up. I saw flares of white light.

I did not hesitate. I called 911. Then I called my daughter. I took my grandson's hand and we went to sit in the living room until the paramedics arrived. Which was not really so long.

By the time my daughter arrived, the episode had started to subside and I was telling the paramedics I would not be going to the hospital. My daughter would have none of it, and I was loaded into the ambulance and taken to Lutheran Hospital.

Five hours later, after an initial diagnosis of an ocular migraine, a CT scan and a contrast MRI, Dr. Rudy Kachmann, the best neurosurgeon in northeast Indiana walked into my room and told me I had a brain tumor.

Like I said before, denial is a wonderful thing. It allows you to catch your breath. It takes the edge off of the shock and pours gallons of numbness around your shattered nerves.

The second definition of denial in the Merriam-Webster dictionary is " 2 a (1): refusal to admit the truth or reality (as of a statement or charge)." I was glad that was included in the definition of denial- however, the word "refusal" has me stumped. Because, "refusal" implies a conscious decision to do or not do something.

At the moment of impact, when the diagnosis is handed down, the bad news reported, there is nothing consciously done, at all.

The reality and the concrete actions that would need to be taken to comprehend the fact that a brain tumor had been growing in my head for over ten years would gradually find its place in my life.

Thankfully, it did not on that day.