Norma Byrne

When I started to experience moments of confusion I thought it was long COVID, I never expected it to be a brain tumour. There were no headaches, and even today, almost a year since my surgery, I still haven’t experienced excruciating pain which you might expect when you’re told you have something growing on your brain. 

My personality was always so positive but I had moments where I felt like I had a short fuse. A couple of times I got confused, the second time I was with my son, Jake. He asked for a lift to the barbers and as we were in the car about to set off I couldn’t remember how to get there. When I turned to him I said that I couldn’t remember the way, he didn’t understand. “Mum, it’s the same road you used to live on for years,” he exclaimed. 

I went to the doctor, I knew something was wrong but didn’t know what. After blood tests I was referred to Stratford Hospital for a CT scan. On 10 February I was asked to go to the doctor’s for the results, it was the day after my CT scan but a couple of weeks after my blood test so I assumed the call was to chat through all of my results. 

When I got there, everyone was wearing a mask – as was normal at this time. I remember so vividly people pacing the corridor, frantic because the computer system had gone down. A receptionist came over to me asking if I was okay and to let me know that the doctor wouldn’t be long. 

Before I sat down the doctor seemed nervous and almost blurted out the news: “you’ve got a brain tumour”, immediately followed by a sympathetic look. I found out after that they had never diagnosed a brain tumour before, and the pacing and empathic reception staff made sense. 

I couldn’t believe what I had been told. All I could think about was telling my three children, my husband and my family. I knew nothing about what having a brain tumour meant and had no idea if it was cancerous. 

From that moment, I was told I can’t drive due to the risk of having a seizure, and given medication. When I got home, no one was in. I called my two sisters for advice on how to tell my family. 

“I handed them the piece of paper the doctor had given me and we all had a cry.” 

My tumour was 5cm x 6cm and something that had likely been growing for years, possibly since birth. A month after I was diagnosed with a low-grade meningioma. There was a sense of relief it wasn’t cancer however there is so much more that comes with a brain tumour diagnosis. The steroids I was given made me extremely bloated and caused unbearable pain in my joints. I developed shingles as a side effect of medication which I had to ride out for seven weeks. 

Eventually, on 15 June I had a 10-hour operation at University Hospital Coventry & Warwickshire after having to self-isolate for 48 hours. After being warned that surgery could leave me with life-changing injuries, I surprised doctors when I sat bolt upright in the hospital bed and spoke immediately. 

“The next day I was walking around to the applause of hospital staff. They couldn’t believe how mobile I was and called me a ‘miracle’, expecting my recovery to take longer.” 

I still have part of the tumour remaining – as it wasn’t cancerous and to limit the impact on my mobility and speech. I’m monitored with regular scans which so far confirm no new growth. My memory is fine now, and I have experienced the odd headache, but that could be a sign of stress with everything that has happened. 

As I approach a year since my operation, I find myself overwhelmed with emotion in sharing my story. I feel very lucky to be where I am today. I’ve been able to return to work, building up the hours – my work has been very understanding. I can drive again and I look forward to having a future which before was uncertain.