Today, August 8th, is a bittersweet day. Today is the day I was supposed to be returning to work from leave after my surgery in Atlanta. I was supposed to work night shift this week.

I would have been ready. At least I can console myself with that much. If that were my only issue, I could have gone back.

But here I sit, with 2 1/2 months to go until I return to work. All thanks to the barely manageable symptoms from my brain tumor. The last three consecutive days, I have woken up feeling sick. Dizzy. Nauseous. Taking Benadryl and meclizine has only helped a little. Yesterday I felt so off all day I couldn’t even hold a pen to write with. Trying to write literally had me breaking a sweat. I still don’t know what was wrong.

I feel useless. The best I can do every day is walk to the bottom of the driveway to get the mail. I have to give myself a pep talk to shower. (Don’t worry, I still shower daily, it’s just a matter of what time of day.) I can barely sleep any more either. I feel like my body is shutting down.

You would think being off work for this long would be fantastic. Like maternity leave, but without the baby. But it’s not. I hate it. It’s already been 2 months. And I have 2 1/2 more to go before I’ll finally (hopefully) be ready to return.

I know it’s not my fault. I can’t help the fact that I’m still technically recovering from surgery that fixed a problem that had been going on for almost a year at least. I can’t help the fact that I have a growing brain tumor that is causing all these symptoms.

I’m just mad at my body for betraying me.

Why couldn’t I have healed well enough after my excision surgery to prevent the hernia from forming? I could have been saved a year of my ovary twisting like a rock on a string and causing excruciating pain on a regular basis. I could have been saved having to go on long-acting narcotics for three months to control the pain.

Why did some cells decide to go rogue in my pituitary gland and grow and over-secrete the hormone that happens to be the one that controls my fertility? I could have had a child by now and be on my way to a second one. I could have been saved missing months of work due to the symptoms. I could have received normal pay at a time when we needed money the most.

It’s hard to be thankful at times like this. But as another blogger told me in support, “When you’re going through hell, keep walking.” I have Jesus holding my hand. Sometimes I think He’s had to carry me. But He’s always with me, even if it feels like I’m going through hell. There is a greater purpose to all this. As one of my devotionals said today, “God always fulfills His promises, but does so at a level of greater complexity than we can easily discern.” I believe that. Someday I’ll know why. It might not be until I see my Jesus face to face. But I’ll know. Everything will make sense. And it will all have been worth it.

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