Strength in healing

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Strength in healing

Category : Personal


My scars are not ugly; they’re testimony to the skill of my surgeons.

It’s been a week of being surrounded by strong women who have nurtured me, held me up, made me laugh and think outside myself.

A week of family connections. A week of starting to pick up the pieces of my work and trying to find motivation. Of trusting Chris to completely reorganise our pre-booked holiday because the doctors were horrified when I mentioned we were planning on flying to FNQ.

First outings
My slightly less hirsute scalp and I have been out in public a few times this week. The first was to a café with my cousins. It crossed my mind perhaps people might find the sight of what looks akin to a naked mole rat on the side of my head a bit off-putting during dinner, but my attempts at wrapping my noggin in a scarf failed – the wounds were still too fragile and some bits were still squidgy-wobbly. So I thought screw it, this happened to me, I’m not hiding it. Besides, it’s a great conversation piece. I stuck my head at them and said, ‘Go ahead, check it out’.

Brain surgery staples

1. Surgery staples

2. Staples removed

3. Carpet pile

TC the cat

4. TC cat scan






Treatment has been cat scans (see left) antiseptic solution, rosehip oil, vaseline and fresh pillowcases. A few days on and I’ve now got carpet pile growing. It’s spikey and tufty, as though I could clean my boots on it – maybe once I’ve got a few more yoga sessions under my belt.


Yoga mat with sandalsSpeaking of yoga, I did my first return class last Sunday. Nobody stared – which is the point of yoga: concentrate on what’s on your own mat. At first, my body went WTF? This isn’t cheesecake. ‘No, it’s better,’ I promised. And it was. It did, however, highlight a strange development in my recovery – I’m still experiencing constant pins and needles in my left hand, and occasional face tingles and numbness, but now my hand has developed a new trick: it feels things differently to what I’m seeing.

Every time I did a Downward Dog, lefty felt bulges in my mat, as though there were lumps under there. Since then, I’ve found if I close my eyes, the angles and shapes I’m touching bear no resemblance to the real objects in my hand. I got frowns when I relayed this to my doctors, but they all agree the process in an unknown quantity and things should settle down once my brain stops having a hissy fit about being prodded  by uninvited utensils and learns to accept that its roommate is not coming back.

Coconut water: I’ve become addicted. This may have something to do with my kidneys being a bit unhappy with the scan dyes and meds. We’ll  be keeping an eye on them but no NYE celebrating for me.


Gingerbread backfire: I tried milking the sympathy card by telling a friend I no longer had any reason to get out of bed in the mornings because I’d run out of her freshly cooked gingerbread. I could now build five gingerbread houses with the supply she delivered (not that I’m complaining). Love you Babe xx

Chocolate brains: Chris and I ordered a bunch of personalised ‘Thank You’ smarties for the neurosurgery and nursing staff at Monash. My girlfriend who owns Designer Chocolates at Chocolate Works also delivered me an extra special gift:  A chocolate brain! LOL. This went straight to Mr Andrew Danks, the head of neuro who did my op. Wish I could have seen his face.

A very cool adventure
Over the next month, Chris and I will be spending 6 days  travelling on trains: first to Sydney to visit family, then to Brisbane for NYE to climb the Story Bridge for the midnight fireworks, on to Cairns to stay with more family, then a couple of weeks in Port Douglas on our own. Bliss.

Philosophy for the future
What ifs may never happen. Now is all we have.


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