CLEVELAND — July 2, 2019. 4:30 p.m.
While putting my story together for the 6 p.m. news, I received a call that would transform my life: I learned I had a brain tumor — a sphenoid-orbital meningioma, to be exact — that would require surgery, and the outcome was unknown.
This type of tumor was common, but the location of mine was rare. They saw maybe four cases like mine per year.
The heath reporter who spent decades bringing us the stories of others facing dire medical conditions was now facing her own. What seemed so ironic is that I felt the hundreds of stories people allowed me to share through the years prepared me for what I was about to face. I met so many people who went through dire diagnoses much worse than mine, and they handled it all with grace and dignity.
It was that strength I would call upon. It was the lessons they taught me that I would once again share with others.
The first is perhaps the most important: Worry is a wasted emotion. It's the first thing we all do when given information we have no control over. If you spend all your time worrying, you lose the energy to act on the things you do have control over, and believe me, there are a lot of things you have in your power.
You just need to sit down, take a few deep breaths, and make a list: "What are the things I can control, what are the things I cannot control, and what are the things I need to let God or the universe take over for me?"
Once you have it in front of you, it's like a huge weight gets lifted and your perspective changes. One of the first things I was told to do was get my affairs in order. Initially, it scared me senseless. I immediately thought it meant I was going to die, until my doctor's nurse put it in perspective and asked me why on earth didn't I have my affairs in order? What was I waiting for
She gave me something I had control over. She gave me something to focus on, and taught me my first lesson.
The second is to find the funny in everything. The day I was diagnosed, I had bosses in the green room, and I was laughing and crying at the same time. I found it so ironic that the health reporter had a brain tumor. I started cracking jokes about it and just watched the blood drain from their faces in horror.
It was then that I said to them that we needed to laugh. To me, it's medicine. I will find something funny about every aspect of this journey, and I did. Laughter got me through some of my most difficult days. I was upset they ruined my Frankenstein costume because they took 51 staples out of my head on Halloween (and yes, I keep them on my desk).
I'm also proud of the fact that I wore out two 6-millimeter drill bits that they used on my skull. Not everyone can say their head is that hard.
I told you five years ago that I learned how to be present. I'm still working on that, but we all know life throws curveballs; some of us seem to get more thrown at them than others. But when it happens, I try to go into five-minute mode: I focus on five minutes at a time. I can't change what happened to me, but I have power over how I react to it.
Panicking, worrying, freaking out is a waste of my time. What isn't? A walk in the woods, maybe some deep breathing, anything to get my stress in check. A visit with a friend I haven't seen in a long time. Cleaning out that file cabinet or closet I should have done months ago.
There's always something else to occupy your mind. Can't find it? Take a piece of paper and write down everything you can possibly think of that you have to do, all your priorities. Then narrow it down to three. That's all you focus on for the day. Finish it, pick another one.
Perspective is another thing I've learned. I don't road rage as much as I used to. When someone cuts me off in traffic, sure, it's irritating, but my next thought often goes to I wonder if they got a horrible phone call that morning.
It's the same thing that got me out of bed on the bad days: The realization is that, no matter how bad your day is, someone's day is worse, and they're probably still doing what they can to get out of bed and lead a productive day.
For me, getting mad was how I dealt with the fear. Whatever the odds they gave me, I was going to prove them wrong. We all have an inner rebel. Find it — it might save your life one day.