● When it’s full of ice water, my Stanley is too heavy for my right hand/arm to pick up.

●  It’s fair to say I can’t drive (although they have formally mandated that yet).

●  I can’t get in or out of the shower without Keith.

●  I have an Android, and I use swipe to text. My coordination is so bad, I have corrected this post after almost every third word. I’m now mostly hunting and pecking with one finger. (I can still type, so I’m switching to my computer.)

●  I started ordering hospital and recovery stuff. I will soon be the proud owner of neck pillows, a wedge to help me sit up some in the bed, and disposable panties. Disposable freaking panties.

●  I ordered a walker, a purple one. I never thought in a million years I could swallow my pride enough to use a walker, (It makes me cry to type this.) but one is on the way.

●  I feel like a downer. I’m never a downer. Now all I can focus on is holding a spoon steady and trying not to cuss while I eat cereal.

●  I can’t really dance. I never thought THAT would happen. I told Keith that I can’t wait to dance again. We will have to have a dance party. Neighbors, be damned. Get ready, People.

●  I can’t take laundry to the washing machine. Can’t bend over and gather it up, can’t walk through the house carrying.

●  People who talked bad about me behind my back have surfaced. They’re “praying for me”. Never thought that would happen. *Jurassic eye roll*

●  I let my friend set up a meal train for us, or as my friend, Carissa, called it yesterday, a “food chain”. My pride almost got in the way of that, but the meals so far have each been a God-send.

●  I bought Thank You cards I’m not sure if I can send. My writing looks like a right-handed drunk wrote it with his left toes. My handwriting is generally quite good, so who knew that would ever happen?

●  I can’t really get in my own bed…and I love my bed. Last night, Keith and I thought we had a plan. I put one knee on the bed, he pushed, and I fell forward on my face, arms stuck behind me. We died laughing. Bad plan.

I counted a while ago, and if the surgery date doesn’t somehow get moved up (y’all pray for this!) or pushed out (y’all pray this doesn’t happen), it will be five weeks from the time we found meningiomas on the CT and MRI to the day of surgery. FIVE WEEKS! What a blip in time! It sure is dragging by, especially with my daily deterioration.

Maybe I’m learning to never say “never”. Maybe I’m learning that I’m good at jumping into action when something happens suddenly to someone else, but I also better be ready when something suddenly happens to ME. Maybe I’m learning about finding courage inside myself that I didn’t realize I had.

I’m not sure. I’ll never think I’m immune to any set of circumstances again. I’ll never think “that couldn’t happen to me”. I’ll try my best to be more open to allowing people to help ME.

I may even use the purple walker (although I’ll probably cuss some about that, too.)

Power In The Purple

Y’all, tomorrow starts a week of PURPLE at my dance studio. My precious friend, Natalie (the new owner), put out a notice today that blew me away. She has called on everyone to support me in this brain tumor fight by wearing purple this week. I’m thrilled!

There really is power in the purple!

If you wear any purple this week, please post a picture, and use #powerinthepurple so I can look through them all.

I can’t wait! It makes me so happy.

#pray4msa #graceanddignity

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