Fear of the Uncontrollable

As the day approached for my neurosurgery, the community of people who knew about this looming event expanded. Practically universally, when someone found out, their first response was, “that must be so scary!”

Scary? Well, certainly at some points and in some ways, yes. But, also, after the initial shock wore off and I prayed, I felt like the more accurate answer was that this process felt inconvenient and disruptive, such that I felt stress more than fear. Today I thought I would share something of how I moved through that process, elements of which I believe can be applied to other unexpected and uncontrollable events that intrude on our best-laid plans.

Surrendering my whole life (at least temporarily) to the dominance of an unexpected event was definitely a big deal. Initially, it felt all-consuming and overwhelming. When we first discovered these tumors in my brain, I just felt shocked. The idea that I needed to have brain surgery was so far outside anything I had ever contemplated that it was hard to grasp. Over the intervening 47 days from when neurosurgery was first recommended until I entered the operating room, I grappled with this new and unexpected reality. I had no idea that I had developed atypical meningiomas, so it was terribly surprising to discover they were in there. As the days passed, my shock, fear, and confusion transitioned into frustration with the inconvenience and disruption as I processed through this uncontrollable event in my life.

Initially, as the shock of this unexpected curve ball descended, I just was not prepared to even talk about it. We told only my closest family and essential business colleagues. There was so much we did not know. There was so much to grasp and begin to consider. By happenstance, my husband and I headed out of the country for a much-delayed-by-Covid vacation within a few days of initially learning of an unexpected mass in my brain and within hours of learning of the surgery recommendation, so God provided time and space for the two of us to process through that together. A true blessing!

By mid-vacation, I started talking to just-met medical strangers at the pool as I tried to find words even to describe what we were going through. That broke the ice. Then I expanded to texting close doctor-friends who could quickly grasp, answer questions, and maturely respond without asking questions that have no answers. This was also a time of deep introspection and prayer. As the shock wore off, I remember one day explicitly praying about the full spectrum of potential outcomes – from the always-present in major surgery risk of death to unlikely disablement to complete restoration after a period of disruptive recovery – and realizing that I could let go of fear since God had me in his hand no matter what. It was a like a great weight had lifted when I realized that even if the unthinkable happened (and, honestly, we all take risks in our daily lives, so it is just that my risks were just more identifiable at the moment!), I was ok. This was a central spiritual transition point for me.

Emotionally, as I dug into what open brain surgery was, I was frightened about having a neurosurgeon enter my skull, the housing of my precious brain. With the help of doctor-friends, ultimately, I focused on the fact that neurosurgeons train for many years to operate in and around nerves and brains. For them, this is what they do, all day, every day. I might be overwhelmed, but my surgeon is not. I had vetted the capabilities of my surgeon (all who knew him affirmed that he was the perfect fit for my situation, and they would choose him if they had the same need). I needed to trust his expertise to get me through this process successfully. Leaning into trusting my surgical team rather than second-guessing was pivotal to letting go of fear.

By the time I returned home and met with the neurosurgeon for the first time twelve days later, I had learned a lot. I was ready to expand the tent to include those around me who would be affected by this event or were people I trusted to be part of my support system. I had fortunately been given a chance to learn and process and come to some level of reconcilement with this intrusive happening in my life. I was ready to begin processing it with a widening circle of people. In hindsight, that ultimately 34-day season of uncertainty and planning proved to be a blessing as we could think through how to best share out responsibilities, communicate with stakeholders across multiple organizations, and just do plenty of groundwork and preparation. What I found is that many people were sympathetic and supportive. Some were worried and somewhat overwhelmed themselves. I got more confident and effective in helping others cope with their own fears and worries as I became more settled in my own mind. And, I leveraged others in a few cases to help with those whose own concerns were swamping them and where their “catastrophizing” was becoming overwhelming for me.

Some people might choose to keep a medical event like this very private. However, keeping it private while preparing for a significant time away was not very realistic in the context of a small startup team. It was not like we were going to be able to pretend I was off on some sort of vacation – and I needed everyone to pull together and help. Being transparent and open about the challenge allowed everyone to rally around putting plans in place to fulfill my responsibilities, especially my obligations as a startup CEO to protect the company the best I can by putting good contingency plans in place, communicating proactively with all affected stakeholders, and preparing and empowering people to take care of whatever is needed while I focus on recovery and healing so I can come back as quickly and fully as possible. What I found is that the fastest and most powerful way to get the support we needed as a company was to be transparent and vulnerable with leaders at our key partners and customers as well as with everyone in our small company. In fact, one silver lining was that in sharing with others, we deepened and strengthened our relationships with them, and I was even able to initiate some of the more challenging conversations we needed to have to align for startup success with the looming surgery as a trigger.

This surgery event and necessary recovery time upended and redefined all my plans and expectations for the coming months. Time and engaging others downsized feeling overwhelmed into a set of logistical problems to work through while trusting God with the outcomes. Shock and fear transmuted into much more manageable irritation and frustration with restructuring my life in preparation. As time runs out, the last phase is one of tying off loose ends, handing off, and letting go of my FOMO (fear of missing out) and guilt for burdening others. My focus must shift. Radical trust is hard for a controlling personality like mine. Yet, I have such a fantastic team who are stepping up and taking ownership for all of my work responsibilities while I cannot take care of them. Time will tell, but our work to build a fireproof team is foundational to our ability to respond now. Beyond just my team, engaged customers and partners are also stepping up and saying, “We’ve got you, Jen!” It feels wonderful to know that so many people are praying and working to help and support me, and Fifth Eye.   

Beyond work, others in my life are stepping up during this season of the uncontrollable. The day before my neurosurgery, my pastor came to pray. I was connected and supported by my church community, family, colleagues, small group, barn friends, and even strangers in a nail salon. While the universal response to learning of my impending surgery is “you must be afraid,” that is quickly followed by “how can I help?” With such an abundance of offers, this process has been a lesson in extreme delegation and new levels of trust with God and with people. Often, the best answer to how can I help ends up being prayer, which helps both them and me. I am truly cared about and blessed!

For other posts related to my neurosurgery, click on the “Neurosurgery” category on my blogpost site at www.StartupCEOReflections.com.