We went to dinner with friends. It was a normal dinner catching up. We had recently gotten an apartment in Franklin to get back to what we knew, old friends and our kids, or so we thought. Little did we know that we would “need” that apartment for months to come. Well, I “knew”. I knew I wasn’t 100 Percent, but I wasn’t interested in finding out what was wrong. I chalked it up to getting older and the repercussions of an empty nest. We had moved to a new place, and then the pandemic hit. So many reasons for me to be out of sorts, down and missing the familiar. When the empty nest hits a stay at home mom, the effects can be great. I was thankful to get back to the familiar, especially that night—chatting, laughing, communing, connecting.

My eyes were acting up at dinner. I tried to downplay what was happening, so no one would notice. I thought I did well. We said goodbye to our friends and headed back to the apartment. When we got back to the apartment, I could hardly walk. My legs wouldn’t work. I got into the apartment and threw myself on the floor because my neck hurt so bad. I got sick to my stomach shortly after, I knew at that moment that I had no choice but to go to the emegrency room. I was scared, but oddly at peace.

I had an MRI because of my symptoms. The doctor came in, pulled up a stool and confirmed what I knew deep down—that I had a tumor in my brain a bit bigger than an egg, larger than they tend to see. I wasn’t shocked. I was calm, but I called and informed my prayer warriors and loved ones. I was whisked to Vanderbilt unsure of what was next. It was one in the morning. It was unsure if I would have surgery that night or some other time.

It was determined by my team of doctors at Vandy that I would wait seven days in the hospital in order for the fluid in my brain to be drained and healed before they attempted any surgery.

A drain was “installed”in my head. I was put on steroids, and I waited.. My sister, Anne drove in from North Carolina to assist Jack with hospital watch duties. We watched Love Boat and Bob Newhart and Ted Lasso.

We talked. We laughed. And, Anne and I got closer than we have been in years. I had all sorts of friends visit. I wasn’t lonely. I felt loved and seen and taken care of. I surrendered. And, the joy bubbled up.

I had surgery on October 21st. It took the team of doctors 14 hours. The doctors were gentle, kind angels. I survived! I can honestly say I was sad to leave Vandy. I had fabulous nurses and great food. There is something to be said for that. I was off to rehab with my walker as my friend.

I called this blog post “The day my smile left, but my joy returned” because the day I had surgery I did literal lose my ability to smile. They removed that facial nerve with the tumor. I was of course ok with that. It has been an adjustment looking in the mirror, but hopefully future surgeries will help me with smiling again however. I’m grateful. I’m thankful and my joy has truly, honestly returned with a vengeance.