It's Complicated

   When I was a junior in high school, I fell in love with a boy who played the guitar.  He had long flowing hair and put notes in my car windshield before school to tell me how special I was.  Did I tell you he lived nearly 30 minutes north?  But, it was complicated.
   I had been seeing a boy since spring my sophomore year.  He was tall at six foot five inches and had the most killer smile.  He wasn't too creative in the dating and wooing of, well, me.  I fact, I think the number of times we saw each other over the summer I could count on one hand.  My mom teased me endlessly as I called him sometime mid-July, and his excuse of why he was too busy to go to a movie was he was chasing rabbits out of his mom's garden.  "Bunny tail is more like it."  The sad thing is he actually was chasing rabbits as my sister's boyfriend was his best friend and confirmed the claim for lack of attention we both were receiving that summer.  At any rate, I liked him a bunch and made sure we had weekly dates and bi-weekly phone calls come fall. 
   So I met the boy who played guitar in February.  My heart raised up into my head and made me crazy when he walked in the room.  It was Valentine's when I returned from a ski trip with my youth group and the long haired guitar playing dude who was stealing my heart.  There, on my bed, my mom left a present the tall drink of water hand delivered the day before.  There it was, a poem.  An iambicpitameter poem mentioning my name three times written in his British Literature class.  There it was an omission that his heart was all mine.  But, it was complicated.  My heart was just stolen by an unexplained force of coincidence.
   So why in the world am I telling you this story?  It is pretty simple, I am distracting myself.  I have some news to share and not sure how to go about it as it is complicated.  You know how we all cheered sometime in May that I was in remission?  Well, it turns out that it was a lie.  Okay, it is more like an misinformed assumption.  I have another spot in my head.  After my MRI in August the day before school started, I had a visit with my Longmont oncologist.  All news was good according to the reports of all doctors on my ship.  I was going to have an appointment with the neurosurgeon, but he got held up in surgery, and it was postponed.  So, being as all the reports were in my file for the oncologist to review and summarize, I went all skipping through the meadow singing The Hills are Alive with way more zest the Julie Andrews.
   Ten days later, or something like that, I finally had my rescheduled appointment with he neurosurgeon.  He's pretty busy so I sat with his PA, Eric as he looked over my MRI slides.  A high five was exchanged.  Then a look of...heck...I don't know anymore...just a look was exchanged.  Eric dashed off asking me to wait just a sec.  I looked at my watch and remarked that I needed to get out of that office in 30 minutes to pick up my children from school.  Eric returned with a giant red laptop.  There was a new spot on the same slide as my one of the pons spot just behind my left eye. 
   So to get to the punch line, the Italian doctor, who really doesn't understand my sense of humor, ordered another MRI.  As I exited the office in a slight dash to go get the kiddos, I over heard Dr. V. say, "No don't do that, it would be a two hour MRI.  I wouldn't do that to her.  Only get the area two ceintmeters on either side of the pons."  Being as my MRI last week was nearly an hour long, I am so glad for the clarification to only get the tight slides in the one area of my head that is smack dab in the middle of my grey matter.
   Boom, and week of waiting, and we arrive at today.  Let's just say it is complicated.  Just about as complicated as a 16 year old girl in love with two really cool and totally different guys.  Did I tell you that the guitar playing guy who stole my heart from the tall drink of water was only about two inches taller then my five three posture?  It looks like there was actually a void in the area of the "new" spot back in December.  Okay, so it has been growing in my head undetected by the powers that be for over six months.  That is one point for the cons.  It is located close to my derma-something-or-other and likely bignin.  One point score for the pros.  It is in an area of useless brain matter that apparently the surgeon removes completely all the time with minimal issues.  Score two to one, pros.  It could be Cyber Knifed.  Three to one.  It is super close to my left eye and the process of radiating it with the Cyber Knife could cause serious vision issues.  Three to two.  It is growing which may implicate that the drugs I am on aren't doing their job.  Three to three, it is a tie for major suckage.  Alright, so a last note, it appears my tumor in the pons, the one Cyber Knifed in December, is growing as well.
   So what is the plan?  It is complicated.  Pending the neurosurgeon's return from his moose hunting trip, we wait.  An MRI is pending for six weeks the first week of November.  So we wait until the docs all get on my ship and navigate it like pirates avoiding the icebergs.  I have asked Dr. Borges at University Hospital to captain this ship so will probably be running down there in the coming week or so.  Yes, we wait.  Starting to sound like March 2009, when I knew I had breast cancer but no idea what was going to happen for a good six weeks time as I dodged in and out of doctor offices, gathered evidence and predictions like a CSI, and cried myself a river at the top on my stairs while the kids ran below me whining about being hungry for snack. 
    Yep, we have been here before.  It's complicated.  So pray, meditate, or go beg Mother Nature to send the most beautiful weather in the world to God's Country so I can revel in its glory.  And, please let me know if you notice my eyes doing crazy summersaults or my right side of my body freaks out of control.  Ah, the best part of tumors in my brain is there is a lot of useless territory. Here's to praying me spots stay there, react well to treatment, I keep my hair, and I continue to mimic the smart guiness that I am. 
    When you ask if I am alright, I will reply simple, "No, but it will be."  And that, my folks, is how it is done.  That is how a sixteen year old girl decided that the guitar playing shorty with a big heart got her undivided attention but only after she committed to a proper break-up scene in the Little Ceasar's parking lot and two weeks of morning the lose of a really sweet, tall drink of water. 
   Oh, PS, don't forget to go to the show The Journey, Celebrating the Healing Power of Art at the Muse Gallery in Longmont.  Opening reception is October 14.  I will have three pieces in the show.