Well, today is my brain surgery “cranniversary” — 18 years since surgeons removed a ten-centimetre brain tumour that was pressing against my vision and memory.
What Nobody Tells You About Life After Brain Surgery
People often talk about survival like it’s the finish line.
As though once the surgery is over, once the tumour is removed, once you leave hospital, life simply returns to normal again.
But life after brain surgery doesn’t work like that.
At least, it didn’t for me.
When doctors removed a ten-centimetre brain tumour from my brain at 25 years old, everyone understandably focused on one thing: survival.
And of course survival mattered.
I’m grateful for it every single day.
But what nobody prepared me for was everything that came afterwards.
The exhaustion.
The emotional overwhelm.
The fear.
The frustration of not feeling like myself anymore.
Life after brain surgery wasn’t just physical recovery — it was learning how to exist inside a version of myself I no longer fully recognised.
Some days I struggled with memory.
Some days I struggled with confidence.
Some days I simply struggled with pretending I was okay when I wasn’t.
One of the strangest parts of surviving a brain tumour is how invisible so much of the recovery becomes.
People can’t always see:
- fatigue
- anxiety
- overstimulation
- cognitive exhaustion
- emotional burnout
- taking multiple medications
From the outside, you’re “better”.
Inside, you’re still rebuilding.
And honestly, that can feel incredibly lonely.
But somewhere amongst the difficult moments, there were also moments of humour.
Ridiculous moments.
Awkward moments.
Moments where all I could really do was laugh at the absurdity of it all.
Over time, I realised humour and faith became one of my biggest coping mechanisms.
Not because recovery was funny.
But because sometimes laughter was the only thing helping me survive it emotionally.
That balance between heartbreak and humour eventually became the foundation of my memoir, A Brain Tumour’s Travel Tale: Cards on the Table, I Pooed Myself.
Because real recovery stories are messy.
They are emotional.
They are exhausting.
They are frustrating.
But they are also deeply human.
One of the biggest lessons I’ve learnt about life after brain surgery is that healing is rarely linear.
Some days you feel strong.
Some days you grieve the person you used to be.
Some days you surprise yourself completely.
And all of those feelings are valid.
Tomorrow I’ll be sharing another lesson from the last 18 years of surviving, recovering and rebuilding life after a brain tumour.
AVAILABLE NOW ON AMAZON
A Brain Tumour’s Travel Tale: Cards on the Table, I Pooed Myself
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🎧 Audible Audiobook
Narrated by Lucy Brown and perfect for listeners who want an immersive, emotional experience.
📖 Kindle eBook
Take Claire’s story anywhere with the Kindle edition.
📚 Paperback Edition
A beautiful physical copy to keep, gift, underline, cry over, and laugh through.
👉 Order the Paperback on Amazon
