getting to know you . . . getting to know all about you!

I'd drop you a line and let you know what's happening. I went to a S.A. conference over this past weekend
and I got to hang out with some very quality people. I actually only went to Sunday & Monday's activities, but it was great. I got to sit next to a guy named Dave that I've been interested in for more than a
year, but who I rarely get to see. His parents are in my Sacrament meetings because I interpret for the Deaf Branch which meets with that ward. He is a good man. We hung out after the conference at my house
so that I could help him with a project for his dad and yesterday we went to the beach party and walked alone along the surf. Tonight he made reservations for us at a Chinese restaurant and I am peacefully
excited (how's that for an oxymoron??) to go out with him.

He understands my situation in a way that others really can't. In 1999 dr's discovered he had a brain tumor. When he told me that was put on the same anti-seizure medication that I've been on (because drs use
anti-seizures as mood regulators as well), I said, "man! That stuff is like taking an elephant tranquilzer!" He looked at me, surprised and said, "IT IS!! How do you know that?" So I told him a little (very brief, edited version . . . I know, you're surprised I can make anything brief!) about my journey and realized he was getting teary eyed, so I stopped. He just looked at me and whispered, "I'm so sorry you had to go through that." He's the youngest of 5 sisters and really knows how to treat a lady. We discussed for a bit how
demoralizing it is to have personal expectations and the expectations of others shattered because illness/meds at times make it impossible to function. Consequently, he understands why I need to go to bed early and why my medication is so important, but also understands what can happen if I ever get switched to a med that may not allow me to function at the level I am right now.

He is divorced. Evidently the cancer took the a very strong toll on his previous relationship. I get it. I mean the stress of having your spouse have an inopperable brain tumor for four years while he's on an
elephant tranquilizer, having grand mal seizures and sleeping 18 hours a day would stress a lot of people out. He was frustrated with her because she was emotionally building a wall and she was building a
wall because he had stage four cancer. They fell apart. They have four kids, ages 16, 14 and 12 (twins). He was finally placed with a new neurologist about who searched at conferences and journals to find a
surgeon for Dave. Finally, she found one. He had the tumor removed in 2004 (i think) and has been cancer and seizure free ever since. His kids still physically live with his ex-wife, but since they all live here in San Diego, he gets to see his kids at least weekly. The surgery entailed removing part of his right temporal lobe, one of the same spots that was severely effected by my own shock treatments. We understand one another in a way that not many people can when it comes to executive functioning (a huge word psychiatric and neurologists use to drape over the canopy of tasks that involve multitasking, scheduling, mathematical computations, memory and complex problem solving.) We've had the most interesting discussions and I really get the feeling that I'm liking the guy. In my conversations with him over the past year there haven't been any red flags. It's very obvious that he is an avid temple attendee and loving dad. Plus he opened my door and then looked at me and asked, "Is it okay with you that I open your doors?" I told him I preferred that he did.

I know he may not be my man, who knows, only time and our Father in Heaven. But at least he gives me the hope that there are good men out there who will be able to accept me warts and all.

I've been so blessed. I look back at my life and if two years ago you or anyone else would have told me I would have finished my first year of going to grad school full-time (with a cumulative GPA of
3.9), living in an environment that was safe, secure and fun,  and truly enjoying life, I would have just burst into tears and said, "I wish!"