Assuming that my bouts of illness in recent past were not seizure-related, I am legal to drive again as of June 10. Hooray - a milestone to celebrate! I just have to stay seizure-free.
Of course, the irony is that I no longer have my car! Earlier this year we traded two cars for one seven-passenger SUV, because we only had one driver in the family, and this way we could fit ourselves, the kids, and friends all together into one vehicle. So I'm still grounded during the weekdays when my husband takes the car to work, but it's nice to know that I'm once again street legal, if/when I can manage to get a car into my possession.
I have been spotted driving on those lucky occasions, and it adds fuel to the ever-spreading rumors that I am "done" (as in cured, not dead). Announcements of my recent clear MRI, combined with new demonstrations of independence (taking care of my own kids, cooking my own meals, driving, etc.) have led some of my friends to believe that this is now behind me, like a toenail infection that finally cleared up or something. My theory is that there are so many hopeful, faithful people who have been praying in earnest on my behalf, and so there is a widespread expectation and hope that I WILL be cured. So lots of people are just hearing news that fits well with their good hopes for me. And that's nice, even though I am not out of the woods yet. I'm still in the battle of my lifetime. I still need all those prayers!!!
I also hear a lot of "you look great", which could mean anything from "wow - you're not as bald as I thought you'd be", or "you're not schlepping around in your jammies like the last time I saw you", to "you actually look great, you hottie" or maybe anything in that wide spectrum in-between! It's just nice to know that I still look human, despite surgery, radiation, chemo, sleep deprivation, five months of exercise restrictions, and steroids! (Ba-ba-ba-bald Ba-ba-ba-lloon!)
By the way, being street legal means that I have been "stable" for six months on seizure treatment. I'm actually six months from my surgery date. I had brain surgery six months ago, on December 12. It seems like it was so recent, but I guess time flies when you're having fun. The creepy thing is that it was also when I got my cancer diagnosis -- the worst of the worst, with a 12-14 month average prognosis. It occurred to me that I have already spent about half of that time, which is an unpleasant thought, but then I realized that I could also look at it another way: I am halfway toward beating my prognosis.
Beep beep'm beep beep -- yeah!