Wednesday, March 30, 2011

I miss being smart.

What do I miss most about my BBT self?
            Why do I want to write this story down?  I mean really who is going to read this?  My friends don't want to read it...they already lived it with me.  Same is true for my family...why read about your own stuff?  why write about your own stuff?  I love to read.  I always have loved to read...except when I couldn't think good enough to read and even then I had books piled up on my bed with all the pretty pictures.  I still needed the security of books.  they made me feel ...like me.  Before the Brain tumor (hereafter referred to as BBT... no connection to the bank)  I read all the time.  I read medical journals and even had little notebooks where I would take notes and actually change my practice based on those articles...this was before the evidence based practice craze...and then when those books came out I read them front to back...so fascinating...about everything..not just childbirth but what is the best way to care for someone with an appendicitis...based on evidence not just how we have always done it...I could remember little facts easily and would quote studies to my patients and I felt so smart.   I was smart.  I always did well in school, you know that kid who worries about every test and argues with the teacher about the one question she got wrong...yeah, that was me.  Gave a speech at high school graduation,  graduated towards the top of my class both undergrad and graduate school.  I miss that girl.  I actually liked her.
            Don't hate me though, because now I have real trouble with the self check out.  now the little girl  at the Wiggly Waggly Grocery when she sees me coming...just waltzes over to the "regular" checkout line...she doesn't want me to check myself out...it is too much trouble for her.  I try to smile and be nice...she still doesn't look at me...but she knows me...obviously.  I haven't cried at the grocery in months but she still holds it against me.  I'm friends with the guy who bags my groceries...he knows I can't help it and is kind about it all.   He doesn't try to talk to me if I'm doing something else but just waits until I can focus on what he is saying.  I really appreciate this sensitivity, this connection we share over something as basic as obtaining food.   Most people are patient with me, especially when they understand the reason.  Sometimes I pull the "brain tumor card" if someone is hateful, I'll explain and then they feel bad...and I feel bad too because I really didn't want their sympathy just wanted them to hurt a little for being rude!
 Recently, at the brain surgeon's office (of all the places) I had an embarrassing encounter with the scheduling lady, Nancy.  She is very nice and can do about 15 things at once.  The doctor had given me two pieces of paper to take to Nancy, who I've seen a zillion times and I wrote it down...2 pieces of paper...so I would leave with both of my papers.  She said I was all set and handed me one piece of paper.  This upset me because I came in with 2 pieces of paper.  She said ,"No!  You only need this one for the lab...you don't need 2."  OH No here comes my inner 4 year old, I started to cry because I know I came in with 2papers and I really needed them both.  I can see this is irrational but I get so upset when I can't do something that everyone else can do, like make appointments or buy groceries.  Nancy,  was talking on the phone and working on the computer and talking to me about the traffic...surely she just forgot to give me all of my papers, and I couldn't bear to leave without doing it right again.  Then suddenly, she got it....!!!  I could see the look in her eyes...."Oh this is one of those stupid folks who had their brains operated on"...and she started talking loud and saying "Now, Ms Jamie you know Ms Nancy going to take care of you...this is all you need right here...now you take this to the lab when it says...that other paper was just for me...don't you worry."  It's not like I don't  know I'm stupid and I need folks to help me sometimes but that felt terrible.  I thought to myself, "I'm stupid and everybody knows and maybe I'm going to go deaf too because everybody talks so loud to me when they realize I'm dumb."  I look regular so It makes it harder for people to know, that I might need help.   I decided that day that I want to get a t shirt made..kind of like those little signs in your car mirror that says, " Warning objects may be closer than they appear."
  I want a T shirt that says, " Warning: person may be dumber than She appears"   I think it would help..or maybe just a shirt that says, " JuST AIN"T QUITE RIGHT"  be patient and then it could list the dates of my surgeries and radiation as a way of explaining. ( please laugh because this was funny)
"Life has meaning only in the struggles. Triumph or defeat is in the hands of the Gods.  So let us celebrate the struggles."  from a Swahili warrior song
This is why I write the story to celebrate the struggle, to celebrate life every single minute.  I hope you will do the same.

No comments:

Post a Comment