Never again
By Anne Broekman·1 hour ago·Changed: 16 minutes ago
© iStock RTL
In this weekly column, people talk about something they never want to experience, do or not do again. This week: Rosanna (45) was very shocked when she had a severe epileptic attack out of nowhere two years ago. The cause of this was even more serious: she turned out to have two brain tumors. “I refused to write goodbye letters.”
“I already sounded the alarm to my doctor in 2016. I regularly suffered from headaches and migraines, and when I was jumping on the trampoline with my youngest son, it seemed as if I felt something going back and forth. in my head. In the hospital I had an MRI scan, but it showed nothing. I was relieved, especially given my family history. My mother, my grandmother and an aunt had a brain tumor, so I was secretly there a little afraid of.
When I asked the neurologist if I could have another scan in five years, I was refused. That was only allowed if I really had complaints. Bizarre when you consider that six years later I received a devastating diagnosis.”
“It was around a quarter past five in the morning, my eldest son’s birthday. I was still sleeping and suddenly had a severe epileptic attack. My husband was already awake because he had to go to work. He suddenly saw me convulsing. and I was foaming at the mouth.
I didn’t get any of that myself. I remember fragments: that there were two ambulance workers standing next to my bed, and that I was ashamed because I had passed urine during that attack. I had to go with the ambulance. In the emergency room I had to walk in a straight line, which was impossible. I swayed like I was drunk. Then I had a CT scan and an MRI.”
Two tumors
“The neurologist, a nice young woman, came to my bedside and gave me the news: I had two tumors in my head, a large one in the front left and a smaller one behind my right eye. I was very shocked, but I did not cry. Emotions are late It’s not easy for me anyway. The advantage is that my mother, grandmother and aunt also had a brain tumor and survived.
That also gave me confidence in a good outcome. But of course I was worried. I had just become a grandmother and would babysit two days a week in addition to working three days. I saw that go up in smoke.”
“I had to wait three months for the operation to remove the large tumor of 5.7 centimeters. That waiting time was terrible. It made me restless and I was afraid that I would have another epileptic attack. Moreover, I wanted to get rid of that tumor.” have my head.
It was a risky procedure and I was afraid how I would come out of that surgery. All it took was something to go wrong… I thought I should write farewell letters, just in case. But in the end I didn’t. This had to go well, I had to survive this for my children and granddaughter.”
No radiation
“Fortunately the four-hour operation went well, the tumor was removed. The smaller tumor behind my eye cannot be operated on because of the location. Radiation was also not recommended. The tumor is very small and does not cause any damage now. If nerves are accidentally hit during radiation, I could go blind. I didn’t want to take that risk.
It was therefore decided, in consultation with the neurosurgeon, to monitor the tumor every year with an MRI scan. The tumor is now stable. But it always remains in the background. As soon as I feel stitches or have blurred vision, I worry that the tumor has grown. I have to learn to live with that uncertainty.”
“I can only babysit my grandchildren to a limited extent. I am a young grandmother and did not expect to feel so old.”
“The recovery was and is difficult. I spent three months in outpatient rehabilitation with a psychologist, occupational therapist, physiotherapist and social worker. I am still not the same as I used to be and I never will be again. I have memory problems and am easily overstimulated. busy birthdays, for example, are too much for me and I can’t have a conversation with anyone when the TV is on, while I used to arrange everything for everyone.”
Exhausted after an hour of chatting
“I am now taking a training course to learn to deal with my loss. The old Rosanna is not coming back. That is frustrating, because I want to be able to do everything again. I have to take my limited energy into account. After an hour of chatting with a friend, I When I leave a store, I sometimes no longer remember where I parked my car and my condition is a lot less than before.
I keep encountering myself. I don’t want to be sick, pathetic Rosanna. My work as an administrative assistant is no longer working, the numbers are dancing before my eyes. Reading a book is not possible and I can only take care of my grandchildren to a limited extent – I now have two. I feel guilty about that, because I enjoy it so much. “I’m a young grandmother and I didn’t expect to feel so old.”
“If the tumor grows behind my right eye, it can still be irradiated. In principle, I can grow old with it, but it all remains uncertain. My head remains sensitive. I am afraid of a brain haemorrhage or another epileptic attack, but fortunately it disappears. that fear is increasingly fading into the background.
I never want to experience an epileptic attack again. It’s terrible because I didn’t feel it coming at all. I like to have control and during an attack you don’t have that at all. I don’t want to pee again and go to the hospital in the ambulance, that was very scary. If I have another attack, I have to go back on medication and am not allowed to drive for a while. Very inconvenient, because I live in a small village and really need a car.”
Hard reset
“The anxious feeling that there is always something hanging over my head is very unpleasant. But perhaps a hard reset was needed in my life. I have always been at the service of others, now I can think about myself, although that remains difficult. I enjoy of my garden, the flowers, the forest and the sun. And of my children and grandchildren, I think it is very important that those little ones really get to know me. I am still here, that is the most important thing.”
For privacy reasons, the name Rosanna has been changed.
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Never again?
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Never Again: Trusting Your Instincts in the Face of Adversity
Well, folks, gather around because it’s time to dive into a gripping tale of resilience that could make a soap opera look like a casual family dinner! This week’s Never Again column features Rosanna, a woman whose life did a complete 180, all thanks to some pesky tumors that decided to crash the party. I mean, really? Two brain tumors? That’s not just a bad day; that’s a plot twist that leaves you questioning whether the universe has a personal vendetta against you.
Imagine waking up on your eldest son’s birthday and BAM!—you’re experiencing an epileptic seizure. Forget cake and balloons, you’re having the time of your life, writhing in agony, and foaming at the mouth like a rabid dog. Not quite the cheerful send-off to a birthday celebration, right? Rosanna’s shock was palpable. It’s as if the universe decided to play a cruel joke: "Happy birthday! Here’s some brain drama!"
The Medical Mystery
Rosanna’s journey started with headaches and a trampoline jump that felt like something was playing tug-of-war inside her head. She tried to raise the alarm with her doctor back in 2016. But what do you know? It’s like asking to check the weather, only to be told it’s perfectly sunny while you’re dodging raindrops. The MRI didn’t pick up anything, and so she walked out, briefly relieved until six years later, when the universe was like, “Surprise!”
Now, hold on a minute – who in their right mind denies a follow-up scan when there’s a family history of brain tumors? It’s like saying no to a second slice of cake at a wedding—you know it’s going to end in tears.
Surgery and Self-Discovery
Fast forward to the diagnosis of not one, but two tumors—cue dramatic music! Rosanna’s amusing quirkiness was apparent when she mentioned she didn’t cry at the news. Emotions taking the scenic route, perhaps? The operation was a risky affair, but she didn’t want to pen goodbye letters for her kids. Because let’s be honest, who spends their spare time writing emotional farewells when there are Netflix shows to binge-watch?
The surgery was a success, and she got to keep her gallop about her garden and family, though now with a sprinkle of caution and a large helping of apprehension. As if from a medical sitcom, she recounts how she can only babysit her grandkids to a limited extent. Ouch! She’s young at heart but doing an impressive impression of someone who has just completed a triathlon… in slow motion.
Living With Uncertainty
Now let’s talk about post-surgery life. It sounds like a delightful combination of hard resets and newfound anxieties. Rosanna found herself fighting a constant battle with uncertainty, akin to waiting for a text back from a crush—will the tumor grow? Will I need to rush to the hospital for another round? It’s enough to drive anyone mad!
But she’s not just sitting there sulking; she’s taking control (albeit while juggling some memory issues—who hasn’t forgotten where they parked their car, right?). Enjoying her garden feels like a personal triumph, and despite all the drama, she’s still surrounded by the love of her children and grandchildren. Because at the end of the day, that’s what matters, and they’ll definitely remember the grandma who could beat cancer but not find her car.
Conclusion: Resilience Through the Chaos
So, what do we take away from Rosanna’s riveting saga? It’s a brilliant reminder that life can throw some serious curveballs, and how we respond to them showcases our true character. She might be tired and navigating personal storms, but she’s here and thriving in her way. It’s not about being “sick, pathetic Rosanna”, but living with a fierce determination to find joy amidst the turmoil.
And as a cheeky closing thought: if you ever get the urge to skip a follow-up on medical issues or ignore that gut feeling, just remember Rosanna’s story. Life’s too precious to overlook the warning signs. Keep alert, keep questioning, and for goodness’ sake, enjoy every trampoline jump while you can!
What are some ways to cope with feeling trapped in an aging body while trying to maintain a sense of identity?
T, feeling like a young grandmother trapped in an aging body that doesn’t cooperate. It’s frustrating, bittersweet, and real—the kind of emotions that resonate deeply for anyone who’s ever faced an unexpected turn in life.
This rollercoaster of events has forced Rosanna to reassess her identity. Once a whirlwind of activity and care, she now navigates daily routines with the awareness that she has to reserve her energy for the things that truly matter to her: her family, her garden, and simply enjoying the beauty of life. Each day, she grapples with the reality of memory issues and sensory overwhelm that wouldn’t have fazed her before. Her wish to be “the old Rosanna” is now a bittersweet longing.
Facing the Future
Yet, even amid these trials, Rosanna showcases a remarkable sense of resilience. Her story isn’t just about the physical scars left by surgery, but also the emotional journey of rediscovering what it means to live fully within new boundaries. Yes, there’s fear of the unknown, the worry that her tumors could grow, and the haunting memories of an epileptic seizure that felt so out of control. But with every passing day, she’s learning to temper that anxiety with hope and a desire for recovery.
Rosanna is reframing her narrative. Rather than being the “sick, pathetic Rosanna,” she’s becoming someone who takes life’s challenges and uses them as teaching moments—not only for herself but for her family as well. She might not be the same person she was before, but she’s evolving, discovering new strengths and avenues of joy that were previously overshadowed by busyness and obligation.
Ultimately, her story serves as a poignant reminder of the power of resilience and the importance of self-reflection. Life may throw curveballs, and the journey may not look like what we anticipated, but embracing change can also reveal profound beauty. Rosanna is learning to find joy in the simple things—a sunny day, the laughter of her grandchildren, the peace of her garden. There’s power in that, and it’s a lesson that resonates with us all.
Conclusion
Rosanna’s experience illustrates that life can change dramatically in an instant, but it’s also a testament to the strength of the human spirit. As she continues to navigate recovery, she does so with the grace of someone who’s seen the fragility of life and chooses to focus on what truly matters: love, family, and the moments that bring joy. In her own words, “I am still here, that is the most important thing.”
For anyone struggling with health issues or feelings of inadequacy, remember that it’s okay to seek help and change your perspective. Rosanna proves that while the road may be challenging, embracing the journey can lead to unexpected blooms along the way.
