What's really going on in there?

We are constantly asked the same question everyday, whether it be by friends, work colleagues or someone you've met for the first time, "so what's going on?". Generally my answer used to be the same, however, that question now has a completely new meaning for me, because at this moment in time I truly have no idea, all I do know is that there is a tumor in my head that needs to removed either through radiation or surgery. In the beginning of this whole ordeal I would conjure up what knowledge I have of the situation and slowly break it down for the unprepared listener, I have now learnt to apply 3 versions: short, medium and long. Even though the versions are always different, the outcome always remains. For those of you who unaware of my current diagnosis, I will try to explain this in the best manner possible... In laymans terms, "what's really going on in there!"

Firstly I am not a medical man, I will leave that up to my doctors, both locally and internationally, they are the real heroes behind all of this and I am one piece of a massive puzzle, as is every person in the fight with the unknown. With that being said, I will try to explain this thoroughly. I know a lot of people have since developed a phobia for headaches, or possibly even sympathy pains, but don't be alarmed, it is very unlikely that you have developed a tumor inside your head. Mine has been forming for around 2-3 years, and only in the past two to three months have I started to experience headaches of such a severe magnitude that it completely dwarfs migraines. The headaches started off like sinus headaches, and as they gradually grew, so did my tolerance for them, hence the relaxed demeanour prior to finding out my situation.

The worst headache came on Wednesday, 14th December 2011. I was at my work desk, when my hands became like claws and my arms as useless as whale on land, I lost complete feeling in my hands, and my vision completely blurred with the addition of small black jellyfish swimming around in my peripheral vision. Then things got weird, or weirder, everything went completely quiet, whilst I was in a very busy workplace. All I could hear was some fluid noise in the inner cavities of my brain stretch, except I didn't know this at the time, not to mention my ability, or lack thereof, to walk down stairs as I began to lose distance perception. I phoned my mom and Alice in complete panic, thinking it was a panic attack... We were all wrong.

I quickly sped off to my ENT, where he quickly informed me that my sinus canals were clear and that this was "not normal". I spoke to my parents and hastily arranged for an appointment with Dr. Stephan Joubert, a very well known, well liked and respected neurosurgeon. I reported to his rooms the following morning, went through some standard procedure checks and was sent for an MRI. This machine is truly incredible, and truly terrifying. I lay in there, smugly, as I discarded the idea of a brain tumor, or any such anomaly. I was then informed that they need to perform some more tests... Panic, it settles over your body like a blanket of needles. Your blood begins to pump faster, and your adrenalin begins to be secreted from your adrenal gland in order to aid you in whatever obstacle lies before you. Run, that was my first thought, quickly followed by "stay and fight". Those 15-20 minutes that I lay under the MRI were the most defining minutes of my life. It was in these moments that I decided that whatever they found in my head, I would beat it.

After the MRI I was ushered back to Dr Joubert's rooms, where I sensed a different tone. His room was a lot emptier than it was 1 hour ago. I knew something was happening. Behind the scenes my father was frantically making phone calls between London and Durban, arranging flights for himself and my mother. At this time my sister, Nicole and husband, Brent, were expecting the birth of Bella, their newborn baby girl, as if something's were stressful enough. ps: sorry for whisking the parents away.

Dr Joubert then informed me that they had found a mass or a tumor, and that I would undergo surgery that afternoon. This was my head on table moment, where I planted my head on his desk and conjured up the attitude I would need for this fight. I told him I would do everything in my power to beat this thing, and that we would do it as a team. I was ready, at that moment he could've told me anything and my attitude would have stayed the same. Of course those moments are scary, but they are also the moments you need to face in life to find your true grit. I had my nan in the room, and she held my hand as we were talked through the process. Nan, thank you for being so strong.

I was ready for the operation but not for the incredible wave of support I experienced prior to the op. I received calls, messages and every conceivable form of sympathy. I will never forget the incredible love I have been shown, and it is a stark reminder of peoples capacity to love above all else.

The tumor that I have was lodged in my 3rd ventricle, it was creating an immense pressure build up in my 1&2 ventricles that resulted in them swelling to 4 times the normal amount, and me becoming terrifyingly close to an aneurysm, it works on a volume to pressure matrix. It appears I was a big sneeze away from the big snooze.

I have refused myself the luxury and torment of trying to determine when this tumor formed and why it came to be, it is so insignificant to me because this is my individual fight, statistics have no influence or bearing on my attitude. This is my tumor and regardless of what it is, I will get rid of it. I know we all get caught up in our busy lifestyles, but we must not forget the key element of communication. Its this communication that helps people understand "what's really going on in there"... And if there is anything I can achieve with this blog, I just hope to create awareness and a sense that people aren't alone in their fears, but rather that it's their fears alone that will consume them.