In 25 days, I will have surgery to remove a brain tumor. Following surgery, I will have at least six weeks of recovery. During that time, the main focus is to REST and let my brain heal.
Rest isn't exactly in my vocabulary. I'm always doing something. Even when I'm on vacation, my wheels are spinning. I started a personal blog when my oldest baby was a mere three weeks old. Now, I'm faced with the idea that I might have to truly take a step back from the routines I cherish so much.
And then there's the work aspect. I'm self-employed, but this isn't the first time I've had to navigate a major medical issue in my career (the first being after pregnancy loss). In that case, I needed to take time away from work after I lost a baby. This time, I have several weeks of "in-between" before surgery. Weeks of stress, sleeplessness, and spiraling thoughts.
Yesterday, after a video call, someone told me that I look like I'm "holding it together relatively well." I know I'm not the first person who's had to face a major medical crisis and somehow still navigate the day. I don't have space to fall apart because people around me (mainly my kids) need me.
I've had to figure out how I'm going to get through the next 25 days.
The pressure to work; the guilt about not working
As a self-employed person, I don't get paid if I don't work. But that would also be true for many people working for an employer, since the U.S. has no guaranteed sick leave. I thought I should try to cram in as much work as possible to earn extra money before there's an income gap in our household.
But I have very little focus. Work takes me twice as long as it usually does. I've had to take multiple trips into Chicago for appointments (which is several hours to and from my house in the suburbs). Dozens of small things come up during the day, like communicating with my kids' camp about alternate people being allowed to pick them up, or talking to my lawyer about updating my trust.
I feel guilty, like if I don't take on as much work as possible, that I'm doing my family a disservice. But it's been a daunting task. The person's comment that I look like I'm holding it together reminded me that it's so easy to hide what we're going through. We can smile, answer questions about how we're doing... or even hide life-altering events completely.
Taking time for myself
Ultimately, I decided to stop working a few weeks ahead of my surgery. I'm fortunate that I have the resources in my business to continue to "pay myself" through my surgery date.
My life is going to suck for weeks (or longer) post surgery. I'm expecting pain, headaches, difficulty sleeping, and who knows what else. I have a long list of detailed post-operative care to follow so I don't get an infection or blood clot. That doesn't include any longer-term impacts that surgery might have on my body.
So I'm going to enjoy the few weeks before. I've made plans with friends. I'm going to pre-write some posts for my blog and Substack (yes, that sounds like work, but I love writing). My family and I are going to see a Broadway show in Chicago a few days before my surgery.
No rest. Not yet. I'll stay active with the things that are important to me. There will be plenty of time for rest later.
I’ll be writing more about my Brain Tumor Journey in my personal blog. If you’d like to support my recovery, I have a GoFundMe or you can buy me a coffee.
You can also subscribe to support this publication as I continue to write during my Brain Tumor Recovery.
I hope you’ve recovered well, Anna.
There’s always pressure to keep the cogs turning, but in demanding times, the best thing you can do is give your body what it needs.
The care and effort you put into creating quality content for your readers should be reason enough not to feel guilty about taking the time you need to rest.
Anna this is so amazing.
What you’ve written reminds me how invisible strength can be and how often we feel guilty for not pushing through, even when we have every reason to pause. Thank you for showing that choosing rest is a very wise thing to do.
Wishing you peace in the chaos, clarity in the noise, and a full, gentle recovery.