Of all the times of the year to be going through something like this, this is the best. Everywhere I go are reminders of my Savior. A dear friend gave me the cutest small, Mexican nativity that I have right by my bed so that it sees me safely to sleep and greets me first thing in the morning. It is so much easier to remember that "this too shall pass" when you have all these reminders of the person who makes adversity pass.
I am still laughing. It is getting a little harder, but so many people are helping me. Like my good friend Jill who brought me a picture of a Japanese invention for sleeping while sitting up. In essence it is a hard hat attached to a wall so as you sit under the hat it holds up your head while you sleep. (The picture is very funny!) And I can't even begin to list all the good people who comfort and calm--especially an amazing niece who volunteered to donate her beautiful, long, strawberry-blond hair to make me a wig. I can't believe how willing others are to sacrifice for me. I don't deserve it, but am certainly grateful.
Things start in earnest tomorrow at 2:00 when we do blood work. Tomorrow night we are going to have a family ritual and cut off all my hair. I wanted to donate it to Locks-of-love, but they won't take my chemically treated hair. (Ouch! My secret is out!) It should be a fun evening. I promise to put up a picture of me and Carl with matching hair cuts! Stay tuned!!!
Then Friday I go in at noon for another MRI (I'll soon be familiar enough with the procedure to run the machine. I wonder if those technicians get paid more than professors?) After the MRI they are going to shoot me full of a high dose of steroids to hold down the swelling. (I guess that means I won't be qualified for the New Year's Eve marathon. Shucks! And I thought this was my year to win the thing.)
The surgery will begin about 3:00. Dr. Gaufin will open up the skull, lift up the brain, and make a window into the orbital. Then Dr. Cook will find Grizelda and tell her (kindly, of course) that she needs to move on. We're not sure how she is going to take the news, but Dr. Cook is prepared for any eventuality. He may have to get a little tough on her, but if she refuses to leave we'll call in an oncologist to evict her with radiation. After Dr. Cook is through, Dr Gaufin will close me back up and everyone will go home except me. The procedure will take 3 to 5 hours depending on how stubborn Grizelda is.
At first they told me I'd be in ICU for a day. Now they tell me it will probably be 2 days and then 3 or 4 on the floor. Again, everything depends on Grizelda! But more great news, one of my daughters--the one who is a nurse--flies in tomorrow to be with me at the hospital. How blessed can one person be!
If I'm repeating myself, I have an excuse. I have a tumor in my head. That repetition thing will get worse before it gets better. The doctor warned Carl to be prepared. It seems I'll ask what's for dinner about ten times before dinner and several more times after I've eaten it. Poor Carl! As if I haven't given him enough trouble already.
Thanks again for all your help. Things are going to be fine. I appreciate how you keep reminding me of that!