Thursday, 29 March 2012
Greetings, good day!
I forgot to mention that anyone who wishes to contribute to this blog is invited to do so using the comment space at the end of each posting. Even if you need a bit of morale boosting or are just plain fatigued being the unsuspecting and unwilling piggy-back to opportunistic travellers, get them off your chest or back, chase them out of your head ( and thoughts when appropriate or possible)...
Which does bring to my mind all the expressions that rope the body part and the tumour together. For example, let's see, regarding my Georg on the right side of my head: " can't get my head around that", " I need that as much as a hole in the head" ( which there was after surgery, but that was stuffed with fat taken from my abdomen), now we move right into "fathead"! Of course, there is " you are off your head!" which may be more of a personality trait, but can be adapted to muscle relaxants or pain-killers swallowed post-op...There is no limit to the associations and I found that they multiplied throughtout the first chapter of my " head-case".
Perhaps, it may be helpful ( if one can in the midst of the revolving-door of emotions) to identify one's lump or bumps. I found that, at the beginning, I kept saying that I was giving birth to a bouncing baby tumour and that it had outgrown the space provided so generously by my body. I mean to say that it was closing the ventricles of my brain and pressing dangerously on my brain stem. I imagined these feet dangling out of a walnut-shaped cradle and that they were just getting bigger...I even said to a surprised neurosurgeon showing me the scans of my head ," Wow! It looks exactly like a walnut!" He replied that he had never seen the brain that way before and I bet he'll never crack a walnut in the same aggressive way from now on....So, my large tumour became an ungainly growth crowding me out...Before, I had no sign or symptom of this "immaculate conception". The sudden loss of hearing was the first assertive nudge that I was given. In conclusion today, I will say that Georg was an overgrown child by the time I went to hospital and that, because I had no real bother or discomfort, he/it did not mean to cause me dark, malevolent harm. As a matter of fact, he had been resident for almost 10 years and experienced my major family losses with me without physical pain....And now, well, that little bit of Georg left behind is a seedling or a tiny being growing into a small distinctive shape and, of course, is within close proximity of the slew of puns and metaphors made silently in the privacy of self-reflection or made with a loud-guffaw in the presence of a fellow-sufferer...It is all grist for the mill or sand for the pearl in the tight-lipped oyster. Be well and know that Georg and I are here and still talking to each other.