Going home

I was diagnosed on a Saturday and moved back to my parents place the following Tuesday due to the strength of the meds I was on. They were pretty evil things, I had to take another lot just to stop the first from eating away my stomach! So I went to stay at my parents with my other half and the cat for the next three months.
It was not fun.
Firstly, I was used to being in my own home so there was a lot of adpating all around and so much stress! But we got through it relatively unscathed, I was surprised but very grateful.
Moving back to my place was... Hard. There were so many associations there, the place I'd been in pain and no barrier of my mother to answer the phones or pick up the letters with any bad news.
I hated being on my own when before I was always happy to have my space. Such a big deal was made about me needing help doing EVERYTHING it was terrifying to be on my own in case I had a seizure or tripped due to my dizziness... I felt sick all the time, I could barely keep anything down for weeks and that was terrifying in itself!
Eventually though I worked out a schedule so I was seeing someone everyday, friends and family, so I was alone only in intervals.
I went to the doctor who diagnosed me with PTSD and health anxiety and gave me pills.
My eyesight settled so I could go back to using the computer again and writing.
I found new hobbies to limit the associations I had with the inability to do the old ones as my tumour grew.

And as time passed and I didn't trip, I didn't have seizures, I woke up every morning without feeling like the world was caving in things started to look up, to change. I spent more and more time on my own, I picked up my old habbits and issues I had before the tumour began to slip away and now?
I have never felt better!