Feisty Feisty Feisty!

Welcome to 2017 and a very feisty me!

Going without wine can make people feisty. Maybe that's it? When I started on this new medication to assist the symptoms of my brain tumor, I knew I was agreeing to a sad road of zero wine for 12 weeks. For some that wouldn't seem like much, for me, one of the owners of a winery, that sounded like a death sentence.

6 weeks into the medication and I am starting to feel a little relief, more energy and my body is starting to return to a recognizable shape. Maybe the relief from the constant sickness has made me feisty?

Living without wine has been interesting, but not in the way I had thought. I hadn't been drinking all that much prior to starting the meds simply because most of the time I was too sick to have any, yet out of habit, I think of a glass of wine at the end of the day. Heading out to a special dinner, I think of the celebration wines to be opened. Every time I open my refrigerator I instinctively grab a bottle of wine. But I don't actually crave it. I miss it like an old friend I only now get to skype with, but my life has gone on fine without it. Maybe changing an ingrained habit has made me feisty?

WARNING: I am not recommending going without wine! As one of the owners of Vivac Winery, I have to take a moment to say, all people should be drinking wine because it reduces stress, is good for your heath and makes you smarter.  That last one might be my opinion, but you should regard my opinion as fact. 

What has been surprising is that zero booze doesn't mean zero hangover. I still wake up with a blistering headache and nausea every morning. Could headaches be making me feisty? I'm also surprised at people's reaction to me not drinking. It's as if I have checked into rehab. People are panicky and uncomfortable as if I may, in my lack of wine craze, freak out and slap their wine out of their hands and scream nonsense at them. I swear I don't do that. However, in my new feisty mood, I do think that would be really funny to do. I also find it interesting that people are sure that I could make an exception "just this once" yet I have liver failure as a possibility if I do...even I don't love wine THAT much! Maybe it is the reactions I'm getting from people that's making me feisty?

A final surprise has been the idea that I can't do my job without drinking. Scheduled meetings that find out I am not drinking offer to reschedule for a time after I can drink again. Family members have worried about how I would have to compensate for the lack of drinking. Funny thing is, other than my memory issues, due to my brain tumor, my wine knowledge is locked in my head and accessible to me even when I'm NOT drinking wine. I know it IS amazing. I'm probably part unicorn. Maybe that's why I'm so feisty, I have a unicorn horn growing out of my forehead?

Lots of people are also sure that the lack of booze is why my body is finally returning to a somewhat normal shape. But before the meds, I wasn't drinking much AND I was vomiting profusely. I managed to continue carrying the pregnancy belly, have a flattened pig face and gain weight uncontrollably. These are the symptoms of the illness and not body dysmorphia. It is a fact that that is what happened to my body, yet talking about it makes people so uncomfortable! I've never been told so much, how important it is to "love my body", as if noting changes and feeling good with the loss of symptoms that made me self conscious, unhappy and uncomfortable translates to hating my body. Maybe the frustration is making me feisty?

Needless to say, the feisty new me knows that life is too short and too unpredictable to be caught up in these things. I will have to watch this brain tumor for the rest of my life, and it is a gift. This past year, I had to learn to delegate, how to appreciate little wins and to focus on hugging and kissing those I love as much as possible. Because this thing could start growing again, I will always be forced to make choices based on the now. How many people have the luck to live life that conscious of life's precarious nature? Well I do and it has made me feisty!

-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!
www.VivacWinery.com

New Year, New Me

2016 came with many challenges, for some the year was glorious, for many it was torturous. As you all have followed my torture, I failed to update you with the way the year ended.

I have had a frustrating journey from diagnosis of a tumor on my pituitary, symptoms mounting and a crew of Doctors that couldn't figure out what to do with me. While the symptoms said 'tumor on the pituitary' and the MRI showed a 'tumor on the pituitary', treatment was NOT that easy. They just do not want to mess with the brain if they can at all avoid it. A news flash for me since all of my TV and movie expertise left me thinking brain surgery was an everyday occurrence. That being said, I am now very familiar with protocol around the brain and the various specialists, Hollywood should really hire me to consult on movies and shows, they get a lot wrong.

I digress, the point is, it has been a painful, long, scary journey, so when one specialist suggested we try a trial of a drug that had a 50/50 chance of helping, I said HELL YES! When they said absolutely zero alcohol, I still said HELL YES! When they said, seriously, no wine...at all...for the entire 12 weeks. I still said HELL YES! And then the world ended. OK, the world didn't end, but it did seemed apocalyptic as friends and family frantically worried about my lack of wine intake. It was almost as if everyone thought I was the wine vampire and without wine, I would literally shrivel up and die.

As the 2nd week on this medication comes to an end, I haven't had a drop of alcohol and haven't missed it either. Truth is, I wasn't drinking that much for a while now, I just felt so ill I couldn't. The down side is that I still wake up with horrific headaches, nausea and body pain, which doesn't seem fair. BUT I am starting to see glimmers of positive results that encourage me to continue. I'm still no where near going out for a jog, but I woke up the other day happy, a 1st in a long long time.

2017 seemed to be like a magic switch. After a fun filled, alcohol free New Years Eve (I had no idea that sentence could exist prior to this experience), I optimistically looked to the future. That's when I got the results from my recent MRI.

A few days before NYE, I went in for a new MRI. My limbs had started to fall asleep intermittently throughout the day and a new type of headache was added to the mix. Now along with my regular, all day long headaches, I have a piercing stab that occurs at the right temple and rounds over the eyebrow and deep into the eye socket at the bridge of my nose. I was pretty sure the tumor had probably doubled in size and that this would be the solid proof that we needed to go in and get that sucker. I have battled the pain and agony of this for so long that I actually excitedly looked forward to brain surgery. 2016 was desperate times.

The MRI had been a pain in the ass just like everything else in 2016. The computer went down after 90% completion of the test resulting in me spending an additional 20 mins stuck in the tiny tube, cage mask clamped over my face and the same 5 John Denver songs playing on a never ending loop. It was the longest hour of my life. I hate John Denver.

On New Years Day, I looked forward to a year that would offer me a solution.

On New Years Day, I found out that "the tumor has infarcted (loss of blood supply), and partially necrossed (died) therefore decreasing is size and function". Also my football team, the Giants, won. It was a big day.

I'll give you a moment to let this information soak in.

I didn't even know what to do with this information. I sat, numb and bewildered. Just as strange was the appearance of this thing as its shrinkage. Just as confusing as well. Why do I still feel like crap? Do I keep taking these crazy meds? Will it disappear completely? Will it come back?

Not all of these questions can be answered, but I will stay on the medication, which is a cortisol inhibitor (which is what is actually causing these terrible symptoms) and in combination with the shrinking tumor, should result in a dramatic drop in cortisol and me feeling better. No surgery.

I'm afraid of getting my hopes up that I am "cured". Hope feels foreign to me. Until I feel myself again, I probably won't believe it. I'm also plagued with other new emotions. For the 1st time, I've felt angry. Angry that this happened, that my loved ones had to suffer through this, that I've had to experience this at all. But more than anything, I'm relieved. Relieved that my body will start to feel like my own soon. Relieved that I don't have to risk becoming blind during the surgery or die. Relieved that I get to have many more healthy years with my incredible family, with my heart and soul, my son. Relieved that this horror is coming to an end.

Now I need to find something GREAT to toast with for when I'm off the meds and can celebrate. Seems this New Year, really will be a new me.

-Cheers from the Vivác Winery Family!