The day the world changed.

Originally posted October 22 on my old site.

Yesterday, at about 12:35 pm, the world changed.

But -- let's back up first. A little background information might be good for you, the casual reader who may or may not exist. Let's add a little exposition; perhaps even introductions might be in order. For now, I am maintaining my anonymity, because most of the people in my life don't know this is happening. More on the whats on whys of that later.

I am a 47-year-old white male, tall, overweight, in mediocre health but without any major issues up until now. (Foreshadowing. Ooh.) I have always had a right eye that protruded more than the left; I was always told -- mostly by my mother -- that it was the results of being a forceps delivery. (I got my head squished.)

However, about two months ago, my wife said that she thought the eye looked different, and since I was going to the optometrist would I ask her about it? Now, I have a good optometrist -- my eyes are, frankly, shit (20/525 and 20/575 respectively) -- so if there was something wrong I figured she'd know.

So the day for my appointment came about two weeks ago, and my optometrist looked at my eye, and looked grave, and took some measurements, and did a bunch of tests, and said she didn't like it. She referred me to my regular doctor. I went to see him. He looked at it, and he didn't like it either. (By this time none of us liked it.) So he ordered thyroid tests and an MRI. The thyroid tests came back negative.

The MRI did not. I found out at about 12:35pm yesterday afternoon.

I have a 4.4cm meningioma located behind my right eye. Meningiomas are, apparently, a class of tumor that hang out between the brain and the skull. They are mostly benign, and quite often the appropriate treatment is to just leave them alone and monitor them to make sure they don't suddenly grow to the size of cabbages or something. (After a silly discussion over Tex-Mex food last night, my wife, my youngest daughter, and I decided mine is about the size of a guava -- or would be if it was perfectly round.)

However, because mine is behind my eye, and presumably pushing on my eye and face (did I mention the constant, low-grade headache?) that may not be an option here. We'll know more after I meet with a neurosurgeon.

I'm still processing. I'm terrified. I'm boggled. I'm not shocked; I knew, on some level, something serious was wrong. I keep having what I call JIHAFT moments (stands for 'Jesus, I Have A Fucking Tumor'); they're moments where I just stop and think to myself 'I have a brain tumor'.

I'm writing this blog to chronicle this process so I can remind myself where I am or was at any given moment in it. For now, I will remain anonymous, because I'm only telling a limited number of people in my life about the tumor until I know what the course of treatment will be (after that, I'm telling everyone).

 If this helps others, great. If you're out there, say something. If I'm by myself, that's OK, too. 'Cause right now, it's me and the fucking guava, and I'm walking away from this without it.