Then, three months later, things began falling apart. I started experiencing tremors. My hand would shake for a few seconds throughout the day. I took anti-seizure medication to stop the tremors, but the medication caused waves of fatigue, dizziness, and nausea. I felt like a zombie. I could no longer sit back and wait for a miracle or a disaster. I decided to have the surgery to remove the tumor.
The reality of what I was doing didn’t hit me until the morning of the procedure. My mom couldn’t go farther into the hospital than the waiting room. I vividly remember walking myself to the operating room in tears. Two nurses walked with me, holding my hands and encouraging me. I felt like I was walking into impending doom.
When I woke up from surgery, I tried to move my right arm. It didn’t move. I tried to wiggle my fingers. Nothing moved. My arm and hand were paralyzed. The doctors reassured me that I would be able to regain some function in my hand once the swelling in my brain went down.
Despite the temporary paralysis of my hand, the surgery had been successful. The doctor had been able to remove the entire tumor. When they took the bandages off my head, I was shocked by how much hair they’d shaved off. I had a cut running from the top of my head to the top of my earlobe.