Coping with Curve Balls

Sometimes life hands you a shock – and coping with it affects everything.

Recently I received an unexpected diagnosis that rocked my world. Totally out of the blue, in the course of a week, my doctors and I progressed from a routine investigation of symptoms that were relatively minor and likely had no treatment options to first discovering an “incidentaloma” (a mass that shows up incidentally when you are getting medical imaging for something else) and then determining that the “incidentaloma” needs to come out. To come out of my skull where it is sitting in my brain, causing these persistent headaches that I have been attributing to too much stress for months.

What a shock! To me and all those around me.

Brain surgery? Incomprehensible. Inconvenient. Recommended.

Suddenly, you find out where your “home base” is and how you personally cope with something overwhelming. For me, I put all emotions in a box up on a shelf in my mind somewhere and lean into my problem-solving and execution habits. This is a predictable pattern for me. In fact, it is one reason I am an effective leader in a crisis or an emergency. I do not melt down or let my emotions take over. I am the person you want around when the wheels come off because I will act with calm assurance to resolve the situation effectively.

However, in this case, the crisis is literally in my head. And apparently, the risk is such that at my “young” (they called me “young!”) age of 54, we should not leave this symptom-causing, medium-sized, likely-benign atypical meningioma dwelling in my frontal cortex between the hemispheres of my brain.

Some things about this make me feel better:

• There is a more tangible reason for the headaches that last for days, and now weeks, than just too much work stress – and there is a glimmer of hope that I can once again be headache-free rather than feeling like I am fighting the good fight through a haze of pain.
  
  
• My family and friends instantly rallied, offering support, care, and love. Affirming again that I am more than what I produce and that they care about what happens to me. We were all a bit shell-shocked and afraid, but each person is bringing their unique gifts to the table. A treasure trove of goodness!
  
  
• My close colleagues are helping me realize that my health takes precedence over all the daily tasks of running a business – and giving me both emotional and tangible support to enable me to turn my focus towards healing for a time. I am beyond thankful that just this same week, we wound up a push to grow our team by almost a third with fantastic new resources who have been ramping up and contributing right from the get-go.
  
  
• Praying helps. Engaging with God when in a place of scary uncertainty helps me put everything into an eternal perspective. Knowing deep in my core that whatever happens, I will be ok regardless of whether God wants me home with him now or has lots left for me to do here dissolves the fear away and moves me into a place of just engaging in this unexpected new process in my life.
  

These are great blessings.

Yet there is also the reframing of what is most important. The document. The meeting. The launch. All are somehow dimmer and less urgent in the looming shadow of a surgery that will literally remove part of my face and break open my skull. There is an undercurrent of uncertainty about what the coming weeks will be like, what will happen as I release many responsibilities into the hands of others, and being realistic with myself about what it will take to control my overriding ownership mentality tendencies.

There is anxiety about the pain and impact of recovery. And then there is the disruption of normal routines and endless plans. Just imaging putting life on hold for weeks is a daunting thought as I contemplate how to put a focus on giving myself space to recover. Sometimes I tear up thinking I won’t be able to ride my beloved horse for a while, perhaps a long while. Our daily time together is some of what keeps me sane.

What is the point of this blog? Really this is just a glimpse into what sometimes happens to startup leaders. A glimpse into a moment in time when the whole world gets turned upside down – and what at least one startup CEO thought when it happened to her.

Other blogs around this one are related and focus on how our team came together, prepared for me to be pretty unavailable for an extended period, and protected the company.

Spoiler alert:  The surgery has already happened. It went well. My recovery is well underway and I am pursuing power relaxing and prioritizing recuperation at home now even as my incredible team steps up and carries us forward. That happened because we have been investing for years in building a fireproof team. Check under the category of neurosurgery for follow-up posts on this topic.

For other posts related to my neurosurgery, click on the “Neurosurgery” category on my blogpost site at www.StartupCEOReflections.com, which will include some of my reflections on the recovery process as well: Fear of the Uncontrollable, Midway through the Recovery Journey, Discovering the Meaning of Gradual, and Scar Tissue.