It all started with a dizzy spell in 2003.

I actually started to have bouts of vertigo when I would do sit-ups at the gym, or roll over in bed. It was still pretty mild vertigo (not the kind that makes you throw up or fall down...just some dizziness w/nauseousness). So what did I do? I went to WebMd...bad move on my part. Of course, it said that vertigo could be a symptom of a brain tumor, so I called my mom and told her. She thought I was nuts and said, "if you had a brain tumor, I'm sure that you'd have a seizure or something more severe." Ok, thanks mom, you knocked some sense back in me...but I did read on WebMd that vertigo could be from a dormant ear infection--I could live with that!

So I went to my regular physician, who saw no ear infection, but suggested a neurologist. In early June, I met my neurologist, Dr. Kelly Geary. The appointment was pretty easy--much like the tests that police would administer to a suspicious driver (I was freaked out in advance b/c I thought I was going to have to have a spinal tap--again, that damn WebMD!). Dr. Geary recommended that I get some more tests--an MRI and bloodwork--to rule out Thyroid Disease (which seems to be a possible answer to almost any symptom in the world), Multiple Sclerosis and/or Lyme Disease.

So, I went for the MRI on Friday, June 13th, 2003. No big deal, it gave me 45 minutes to relax--I was really starting to get the hang of these medical tests. I was a little worried, but as my sage neighbor said, "no news is good news." On Monday, June 16th, I had a message from Dr. Geary's office requesting that I call back re: the results of my scans. No emotion, no hints, just "please call us back when you get this message."

Call the office back (completely nervous, but still OK). Dr. Geary is in with a patient and I talk to the very kind office manager--who checks in with the doc while still IN with the patient. Office manager says Dr. G. will call back in a few minutes. Ok, now the freak-out level is going from a 2 to a 5 or 6. Dr. Geary calls back and says, "there's an abnormality on your MRI." That's it, I hit 10...I was crying, worried, I thought that I was going to die that night and told the doctor so. She was AWESOME--she assured me that I'd be OK through the night and that we'd see each other the next day b/c she couldn't make a diagnosis without seeing my films (all she had was a text report of the MRI) and my films were with me.

I call my husband David (who, at the time, was my boyfriend), he comes home immediately and we drive to my parents house...I then started to get this odd feeling of acceptance and peace. We got pizza, hung out and just relaxed. The worry was still there, but not as much and I knew there was nothing I could do about it until the neurologist saw me the next day.

So, the next day, June 17th, David and I are to meet my parents at the neurologist's office. I was happily surprised with my Aunt Nonnie got out of the car (she's an RN and has been amazing support to my family). Just David and I go into the examination with my films, and that's when we see it...the epidermoid. The neuro called it based on the location and the way it showed up on the films. Right smack dab in the middle of my brain stem...OH FUCK (sorry if the language offends you), but that's what I thought. Then, my mom, dad, and aunt came in and we had to explain to the that I had brain tumor on my brain stem!!!! That was really hard, but Dr. Geary was excellent in her explanations. We all got emotional--who ever expects to hear that your 25 year old daughter has something abnormal in her head? Mom, dad and the doctor excused themselves to make phone calls. Dr. G. was going to get me an appointment with a surgeon asap. I found out after the appointment that Dr. G's mom also worked in her office and they all shared some emotions together privately (out of my sight).

While they were gone, David, Nonnie and I were still together in the room. Then I thought to myself, well then, "what are we going to do next? Let's take care of this." And I was CALM...that feeling of acceptance and peace was back! Dr. Geary secured me me an appointment at the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania for the next day--ok, getting more urgent here.

The next day is when I met my surgeon, Dr. Kevin Judy. Again, the same group of us (my entourage) traveled to HUP and met with Dr. Judy. He had a bit of a swagger and confidence , but when you think about it, you want someone with swagger working on your brain. He looked right at the scans and explained that it was an epidermoid (that it was benign), where it was located, and how he was going to take it out (and with the utmost of confidence--even a little moxie). Of course, there was the requisite list of possible side effects and deficiencies that could come from the surgery--the worst being, you know...not living. When we asked him how often his operations focus on the brain stem, his reply, "Every Thursday." Ok, you are my guy!

I originally had surgery scheduled for June 30th (only 17 days from the first MRI). It was pushed back to to July 18th to accommodate a patient in a clinical trial. My family was literally doing cartwheels in the hallway when we were told it wasn't cancer.

Leading up to surgery, I was very calm, peaceful. Sure, I was nervous, and that biggest internal battle was the fact that I didn't feel "sick," but I had to mentally prepare for a big surgery. It sucks writing a will at 25 (but important, nonetheless).

On July 18th, I had 11 hours of surgery to remove the tumor. Dr. Judy got it all. My mom, dad, David, Aunt Nonnie, along with 2 dozen--yes, 2 dozen--family and friends waited at the hospital the entire time. They even closed down two waiting rooms (it was like a party happened and I missed it). I was wheeled by their 3rd waiting room just before midnight on July 18th and everyone was able to take a few moments at my bed. I really couldn't see them (and I certainly wasn't "alert"), but I was awake and knew they were there. Because of my bouncing vision, I was able to recognize them based upon their hairstyles.

I had some residual post-op problems right after surgery--bouncing vision, balance issues, but the vision got better within 24 hours. The pathology report came back as negative and confirmed that it was an epidermoid. The MRI 24 hours after surgery also confirmed that it was gone. I did have to move back home and do Physical Therapy to re-train my balance/coordination, and I wasn't able to drive. Talk about a 180! Less than 6 months before, I had bought my first house, moved out, and was living with my boyfriend. Now, I'm back at home with a bum brain and bad balance.

From the time I was diagnosed, I was truthfully very calm. I do believe strongly in the power of positive thinking and was very lucky to have so many friends and family pulling for me. I also had my young age on my side (I was 25), along with excellent doctors, nurses and hospital staff. I still get a little bit nervous before my checkups every two years (next one is not until 2010 2015), but I figure, it took 25 years to grow to 3.5 x 3.7 cm, I have ample time to make an educated decision.

I have been tumor free for6 9 years now and am truly the "same ol' Erin" as I was before surgery--I just have a little extra room in my head for trivia. I run 15 - 20 miles per week, and I'm a regular on the Pennsylvania Trail Running circuit. I even have two ultramarathons under my belt.

Oh, and the best part, I regularly beat my surgeon at the National Brain Tumor Society's 5K for the past few years--that is always fun. I think my brain surgery stimulated my running nerve, because I LOVE it now!

I still stay as positive as possible and believe that I was strong enough to handle this diagnosis, that's why it was given to me. I also was blessed to have an amazing mom and dad, my David (who married me a few years later), along with a network of family and friends that are rock solid. They contributed just as much as those doctors and nurses did in the OR.

Having a brain tumor has changed my life, and brought so much joy to it. I really do value things more, but I still have the same flaws as any other person. That said, I don't get as nervous for the doctor as I used to and I laugh at the saying, "It's not brain surgery."