Fifteen years ago, my life took a dramatic turn for the worse when I was diagnosed with meningioma, a form of brain tumour. By the time the tumour was discovered, it had grown to 5cm in diameter. Immediate surgery was needed.
Four days later, I was wheeled into the operating theatre. It was an eight-hour operation and I was glad to emerge alive. I spent a few weeks in hospital and made a good progress.
After my recovery, I was able to walk, swim, drive and work. Just when life was looking good again, I had a relapse two years after the first operation. This time around, I was advised to opt for stereotactic radiosurgery which involves a precise delivery of radiation to the tumour while sparing the surrounding tissues. The treatment was a success and I was delighted to be given another lease on life.
However, six months later, I had a violent convulsion which lasted for almost two minutes. Later I learnt that it was an epileptic attack. Following the seizure, my mobility deteriorated gradually and I ended up using walking aids and a wheelchair.
The loss of mobility was traumatic for me and my family. I withdrew into my shell and spent a few years grieving, daydreaming and wallowing in self-pity. I was at my lowest ebb in life. Family members and friends rallied to my support, and their unconditional love stirred something deep within my being. It was the turning point for me. Gradually, I came to my senses.
I began to put life in perspective. I registered as a disabled person with the Social Welfare Department. I went through an intensive rehabilitation programme which included physiotherapy and hydrotherapy. I encountered many challenges in the programme which demanded discipline and perseverance but I soldiered on. I knew I could not give up. As my physical condition improved, my confidence grew too.
I had to adapt to life as a disabled person. Regrettably, not all places I visited were equipped with facilities for the disabled. The disabled want to live life like any normal person. It doesn't help when we come across buildings without lifts, inaccessible pavements, and uneven surfaces.
As a brain tumour survivor, I have to undergo an annual MRI scan. The results for the past few years were always the same: the residual tumour had not shown any growth or decreased in size. According to the doctor, this is a very positive sign indeed. I am thrilled. Though I am hopeful that my condition would improve eventually, I am aware that it may take a long time.
Someone once told me that studies have shown that nerve fibres in the brain do not regenerate, but who cares about science? Miracles do happen. Maybe I could be the blessed one.
Life has not been easy, but the unexpected knocks have steeled my resolve to accept whatever life throws in my direction.
Adapted from : Jackie Ng Beyond Barriers Star2 Thursday 17 October 2013
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