Excuse the pun! When faced with the options, personally, it was a no brainer to take the surgery. When receiving the radiology results, they said at first we may not be able to touch it in which case they’d assume its cancer; whether to treat as secondary or another primary though would be unsure. I was thankful to meet with an incredible Neurosurgeon who made going in and whipping that thing out sound as easy as pie. All I thought was where do I sign and so I did; I signed my life away and set myself up to have brain surgery 4 days later.

Monday morning came and, due to Covid, you can’t have anyone come in with you nor any visitors. So walking in alone with my backpack like I was going on some sort of expedition was daunting. Knowing I wouldn’t see anyone until I was able to walk back out was pretty cruel but not at one point did I doubt my surgeons ability; I just wanted to get it done and find out what it was.

Now, I won’t lie to you, my account of brain surgery is pretty hazy! Looking back and trying to write my story now (only 4 months later) I realise how much I was on the moon during that time. The first thing I do remember is coming round and the nurse putting a phone to my ear and hearing my Mum’s voice at the other end. What we spoke about? Couldn’t tell you for love or money but I just remember hearing her and thinking I’ve done it. I survived. Someone cut a 6 inch incision across my head, removed part of my skull, cut the tumour out but I’m awake speaking to my Mum.

I remained in ICU that night and remember thinking cor having this nurse sat here the whole time is a bit overkill no? Turns out when you’ve had your head cut into it’s quite the necessity! They hooked me up to an analgesic line that would self- administer morphine at the press of the button. “Fran, the morphine has a safety cap of every 5 minutes so you can have it 12 times in an hour. You’ve pressed it 6 times in the last 3 hours…”. I have a high pain threshold but that wasn’t the reason. I was just so off my face I didn’t know an orange from an apple let alone know to press the button! As procedure the following morning we went to MRI to check everything was fine and dandy. MRI’s are loud, vibrate a lot and the cage for a brain MRI is rather tight at the best of times let alone when you’ve had your head messed around with less then 24 hours before. Tears streamed down my face during that MRI as I clenched my jaw and focused on staying as still as I could whilst the pain was beyond anything I could imagine. Good news was there was no internal bleeding so I was able to leave ICU and head up to wards. Bad news was, the pain was now so severe and the ticking noise that had began as the fluid dispersed in my head meant I was riding the morphine and sedation train to keep me calm. I tried to watch the most recent Bridget Jones 4 times in the 12 hours post MRI but I still haven’t finished the movie. Probably a good thing from the bits I do remember….

Thankfully they had inserted a catheter post surgery so bed pans were not needed this time round (if you haven’t read my back surgery post go read it to understand this reference). I drink 4 litres a day though, so my urinary output is pretty darn large…it kept the nurses incredibly busy changing the bag for those first 24 hours. But when it got removed after the MRI and they came to me with that bed pan, I think the look on my face said it all. I categorically was not going back down this road again, this girl is using the toilet and quite literally nothing was stopping me. I got up (assisted), and shuffled my way to the bathroom. When the physio came round later he was actually relieved to know I hadn’t waited. My desire to get up and move meant his job was a lot easier but I completely underestimated how much it wipes you. I was already plugged with anti-sickness to get rid of the roundabout effect brain surgery comes with, but in the few steps I took with him around the ward I hit the chunder train pretty bad.

But the following morning I got up and took a shower; much to the nurses surprise when she came in and I was showered and dressed in my own clothes. They estimated keeping me there for 5-7 days, after 2 days I walked back out that hospital. There was no stupidity involved, I listened to the medical team but thankfully my physical strength along with mental determination meant my body pulled through and they were happy for me to be discharged.

The first few days at home were tough. The “headache” was one of the worst pains I have ever experienced and due to them cutting the muscle responsible for chewing I was unable to open my mouth. However, the morning after I came home from hospital we unfortunately lost my Grandmother. The thought of not being able to accompany my family to her funeral was something I could not comprehend so I put my mind (what was left of it) to rehab. Ice packs on my head, jaw massage and persevering with eating nutritious foods, thankfully I recovered in good time. Two weeks post surgery I attended the funeral.

By this time the results had come through…it was Cancer. Secondary to the breast. I knew from here the journey had only just begun and I needed to look after myself and keep strong to get through what was to come. Good nutrition to nurture my body, a lot of sleep and three weeks post op I got clearance to return to gentle exercise. Everything I speak of is my own experience and not a do as I do. I got clearance for everything I did. Gratefully, I’ve looked after my body for yeas so recovering was quicker then expected. But mental determination and strength becomes more important then ever. Knowing what was coming up and knowing I wanted to get my body back to a strong position to head into it got me to where I was.