A few weeks ago, the weekend of my surprise diagnosis, Anna (10) asked me if I was angry at God. I asked her if she is/was, and she hung her head before admitting that maybe she was just a little. She didn’t understand why this had to happen to her Mommy and her family. No worries. We’ve been talking through this. I told her she is allowed to feel a little angry, God didn’t give her that feeling for no reason, but let’s not stay angry forever. I told her that she had a big support system, and that as long as she was talking her feelings out with us, our pastor, our trusted friends, that through those feelings she would come to grow her faith and maybe understanding of why this is happening. She still is afraid to leave me for long, but she’s asking great questions, reading her Bible, coloring Scripture, and she is talking. This girl asks tons of questions. She always has. Sometimes it’s exhausting! She loves helping me add names to our Thankfulness gratitude basket, and to our cards blessing basket.

To answer Anna’s question directly. No. I’ve not been angry. At all. Surprised is an understatement. I might at times feel frustrated or sad that my plans are derailed, but I do try to keep the focus that God is NOT surprised. His plans are better than mine. Just maybe I needed my plans derailed. That doesn’t mean I have understanding yet either. But no. I’ve not been angry. I have frustrations at some of my physical or cognitive limitations and how long things are taking me now. I have been frustrated that some things that should be easy, like putting on socks, no longer are.

I’m doing them anyway. I just need to build in more time. But, yesterday afternoon, for the first time, I got really angry. I got angry because there are parts of my situation that are just STUPID and so out of my control.

We got up early (for me early is anything before 8 am) to finish prepping for our carpet cleaning. The guys were here by 9 am and I was even showered, dressed, meds taken, and fed! That is a huge accomplishment, so I was feeling great! I finished up some projects for the kids’ doing the Holiday Craft Fair-It’s the Big One in the guest room where the carpets weren’t being cleaned, and Anna was helping me. And by doing projects, I mean….I was sitting. Still.

At some point, I got up to wobble to my bedroom, to admire the clean carpets, the cobwebs were vacuumed away in the corners, furniture got dusted, and noted that my nightstand organization needed a book moved.

Read that again.

A. Small. Book. Needed. To. Be. Moved.

I walked to the corner, slipping past the nightstand to look out our windows since the curtains were moved up out of the way for the carpet guys. I admired the beauty outside. I looked down at my nightstand.

I moved the book.

I moved the book and I fell. I first pitched to the right side, caught myself, tried to rebalance, pitched backwards (this is one of the new symptoms for which I’d called the doctor the day before), tried again to restabilize, and was pitched hard into the corner of the room and window.

That’s how stupid this is.

But you all….I moved a book. That made me angry. I wasn’t lifting. I was not walking too fast or too slow. I was standing properly. I even had my hand on a table to remain steady. I hit my head on the window in trying to catch myself, I wrenched my neck and shoulders. I yelled for my family as I began to pitch out of control. And I fell.

Still. I was still and I fell.

This. Is. Stupid.

And I got angry.

As it turns out, I actually hit my affected side. I initially didn’t think so, but my affected right side of my head and face is numb from the tumor, so I didn’t realize. I iced my head…cried…yelled a little at how stupid and inconsistent this is, and went back to my sitting tasks. Later in the day I went with my children to set up for our weekend show where I’d hoped to at least make a short appearance at a less busy time of the day today . The jury is still out as to when that will happen. I didn’t fall during set up and I was even able to help a little. Our booth space is pretty! But I won’t go if I’m a danger to anyone. Safety is really important to me. (In September before we knew what this was, I was at an event where I did trample a small child. And the child got in trouble for “getting in my way.” But none of us knew that it was really me being so imbalanced. That cannot happen again.

There were other annoying and angering Stupid things. My daughter was chewing gum while we set up. That made my head dizzy. In an attempt to tease me, not to hurt me, she said “Mom. That doesn’t even make sense.”

Stupid. I know.

She’s right. It makes no sense.

Let’s not drive on the highway, shall we? I feel certain death at any speed over 40 mph. I feel out of control I feel sure we’re going rear end someone. Swerving cars cause me panic.

Stupid. Irrational.

As I cried in my husband’s arms at how STUPID this is, I said….I don’t know if I can do this for two more weeks. Tell me it’s only two more weeks. Wait. It’s Thursday. Now we can officially say “Surgery is less than two weeks away.” I can do anything for less than two weeks, right? Keep telling me: Less than two weeks. And the new normal starts. “

Stupid might not last forever.

But I still got angry.