The last few days since getting my surgery date have felt really melancholy. I’m having trauma flashbacks to when Reagan was in the hospital. And maybe this is superficial, but my head is never going to be the same. I liken it to Reagan’s g-tube and her tummy never being the same. It’s never going back to how it was, even if the tube comes out, she’ll still have a scar, a mark, a reminder of a struggle, a really really low valley that we had to crawl through.
That’s what this titanium plate in my head is going to be. A physical marker installed into my body as a reminder of this really difficult time.
Since no one is completely sure of what is in my brain, I question whether I’m making the right decision. I trust the Doctor’s experience and what they’re saying. I believe them when they say: this is not normal, there are risks to not doing the surgery and to doing it. Either way, the lesion is not normal and should be addressed.
I feel like Rob and I have been living in the land of impossible decision making for years. How do you garner wisdom? It has to come through making really hard decisions. Experience in weighing all the options and outcomes and consulting with people who are wise and through prayer.
In a lot of Christian communities we’ll ask each other, “do you feel peace about this decision?” But to be honest, having a total peace about brain surgery at this juncture seems fake. Really, the opportunity I have is to thrust myself into God’s hands and say I trust IN YOU. Not in the Doctors, but in the One who guides them. I only have peace in knowing that God has got me, I’m a complete mess when I think about being wheeled into surgery. Complete. Mess.