As I drove along the familiar tree-lined road, my daughter, Emma, animatedly talked about her latest video game obsession from the backseat. “Uh-huh,” I replied, not fully present.
I found myself driving slower than usual, taking in the way the sunlight filtered through the leaves. Typically, I’m a busy mom on a mission, rushing from one task to the next, but today felt different. One of my errands was to pick up my recent MRI report before heading to the library with Emma. The receptionist handed me the report with a cheerful smile and wished me a lovely day. As Emma dashed toward the parking lot, I began to read the document, my heart racing.
It’s Not Like It Is in the Movies
In films, when someone learns they have a brain tumor, they’re often in a doctor’s office surrounded by family, and the narrative quickly shifts to solutions. But here I was, scrolling through medical terminology on my phone while my daughter’s only worry was whether she would get to play her favorite game when we got home. The parking lot felt overwhelming, hot, and filled with the smell of freshly laid asphalt. “Hurry up, Mom!” she urged. “I want to get to the library!”
Right, the library. That’s what I had promised.
The twenty-minute drive felt like an emotional tug-of-war. One part of my brain embraced an unexpected calmness, responding to Emma’s questions with simple affirmations. The other half, however, was spiraling with frenzied thoughts. What was I doing here with my child by my side? What did this mean for our family? I needed to consult my doctor, but he wouldn’t be available until Monday. How could I endure two days without answers? Panic set in as I thought about how I would explain this to my loved ones. Should I keep it to myself until I know more? No, they’d be furious if they found out I had kept it a secret.
“Mom…MOM!”
“Sorry, what?” I snapped back to reality.
“We’re here! Let’s go!” Emma exclaimed, already out of the car. I followed her inside the library, where she eagerly searched the shelves while I searched my phone for any articles on my condition. Most indicated that it was likely benign and that surgery typically had a high success rate. Brain surgery? Seriously?
I couldn’t help but visualize the characters from movies—shaved heads in sterile operating rooms, surrounded by anxious family members. But the films never addressed the questions swirling in my mind: How long would I be sidelined? Who would take Emma to her activities? Would I face life-altering side effects, or worse, financial ruin? We had plans—a new house, a trip to Harry Potter World. Was I about to jeopardize all of that?
“MOM!”
“Yes, sweetheart?” I tried to focus on her.
“I have my books, and I’m ready to go. Can I invite someone over when we get home?”
“I’m not sure. Let’s discuss it later,” I replied, trying to regain my composure.
Over the next two days, I managed to distract myself and my family from the reality of my situation. We filled our time with a baseball game, fireworks, a sleepover (during which I received panicked texts from a child unaware of my diagnosis), and even a minor earthquake. We chose to wait until we had more information before telling Emma, not wanting to add more stress to her young life.
By Monday morning, my doctor confirmed what I had found on the internet: likely benign and easily treatable through surgery or radiation. He referred me to a neurosurgeon and sent my records over. We began informing family and friends, and over dinner, we sat down with Emma to explain everything, reassuring her that I wouldn’t be facing a life-threatening situation. Now, we were left to wait.
It’s not like it is in the movies, where problems and solutions unfold in a neat two-hour package. The reality is that I must wait patiently to see how this all unfolds. It’s not cinematic—it’s my life.
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Summary
This narrative captures the emotional turmoil of receiving a brain tumor diagnosis while trying to maintain a sense of normalcy for one’s family. The author reflects on the stark contrast between cinematic portrayals of health crises and the reality of navigating medical challenges while caring for a child. In the end, it emphasizes the importance of patience and support during uncertain times.