When Hope Translates into Running for the Hills

I had a neurologist appointment this past Wednesday. I was really looking forward to this appointment to address the weird and not so wonderful events that took place over Christmas time. I don’t know why but even after 3 1/2 years, I am still expecting for a magical solution to be presented to me that would allow my Weird Wonderful Brain to reboot to its pre-encephalitis state. I should truly know better! As beautiful as hope can be, I have also grown to believe that it can be a double edge sword when status quo prevails time after time.


Anyhow, according to my neuro I apparently seem to be doing a bit better than when I last saw him, Christmas’ events cannot really be explained and unless I go backwards, there is probably no need for further follow ups. The hope is that my brain slowly keeps improving in the coming years...but again, no one can tell me what a better operating brain may look like. So that’s the sort of hope I was offered.


I should know better by now than to expect a magical solution or even small answers from a neurologist appointment. I’ve been there and heard that same story too many times in the last few years. I get my hopes up, only to have them crushing down on me. I need to redefine and lower my expectations regarding what “better” looks like for me...but I’ve always set the bar so high for myself, it doesn’t come naturally for me to think that way. Today, it doesn’t really feel fair to settle for low expectations. That whole battle between the “old” and “new” me resurfaces and leaves me baffled. I feel sad and need some fresh air.


Now believe it or now, just as I was getting ready to take myself out for a walk to try to clear my head the tsunami evacuation alert when off in our area which, for a moment, brought my already fragile state of mind from bad to worse. I couldn’t contain all my emotions as I was trying to make sure that my little dude, who was then at school, was going to evacuate safely on a high hill. A friend was able to pick him up for me, but yep, all those emotions combined made me burst into tears over the phone (apologies Shelley, I know you had lots to juggle too at that very moment). On the flip side, once I knew he was in good hands, that they were on their way and once friends started arriving at our place to take refuge, it helped me take my mind off things for a bit.


Although the tsunami didn’t eventuate we were all safe up on our hill. Life is full of scary moments, but perhaps being safe is something I can hope for? There should be no need to lower my expectations when it comes to safety and perhaps there are other things for which I won’t need to lower my expectations either? Food for thought anyway.


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