Introduction

Don’t you hate it when you have perfected a magnificent schedule and then suddenly you get interrupted by an enormous brain tumor? That totally sucks, right?

As an overwhelmed mother of five with a touring comedian husband and a career as a writer and executive producer, I already felt that one more thing would be the wafer-thin mint that made me explode. The surreal diagnosis of a life-threatening pear-sized mass in my brain that required an urgent craniotomy with absolutely no idea of what kind of life I would be facing afterward was something that I hadn’t exactly left room for in my daily itinerary. As a self-confessed control freak, I had to face the fact that I was confronted with something completely out of my control.

Ironically, “Tumorgate” turned out to be the catalyst for the radical revolution I desperately needed to reconstruct my priorities. As I am now making my journey through the recovery process, rather than asking, “Why did this earthquake destroy my house?” I find myself saying, “Awesome! I needed to get rid of a lot of that old junk anyway and wow, everyone, thanks for helping me build the new home of my dreams!”

Here I reflect on how this potentially tragic prognosis strengthened my faith in God, deepened my love for my family and friends, and renewed my hope in humanity. So, what I’m saying is that it’s light reading. By the end you’ll be all, “Boo-hoo! I want a brain tumor too!”

Of course, you don’t have to have a brain tumor to come along on my journey. I hope my story will be valuable to everyone because life as we know it and as we have become comfortable with does not last forever. Folks who already have their priorities straight and who find love and gratitude in every little moment may be like, “Yup! This book affirms all of my beliefs, but I don’t find it redundant because this girl is kinda fun-ee!” And for those people who are all like, “Why would I want to read a book about a disgusting brain tumor? It’s never going to happen to me!” I would say, maybe it’s not going to be a brain tumor, but it’s going to be something because life is not in your control and the longer you live, the more things start to get crazy. Maybe it will just be a creepy cat that one day appears at your door and then follows you around for the rest of your life and then you’ll be all, “Thank God I read Jeannie Gaffigan’s brain tumor book because it prepared me for this. Even though I’m terribly allergic to cat dander, I will learn to love this cat. I’ll just get some Zyrtec and put a scratching post in my living room because this cat is going to teach me something!”

And one more little thing: I’m not going to push the God thing down your throat. Let’s just get it out of the way that my husband describes me as a “Shiite Catholic” and I am a true believer in the power and majesty of the one true God, and those of you heathens who don’t get it, you’re going straight to H.E. double hockey sticks. Just kidding. Through my diagnosis and recovery, I found myself relying heavily on the power of miracles. I believe that a supernatural force was carrying me through the darkest and most difficult moments of this time in my life. So if anyone has a problem believing in this sort of nonscientific metaphysical reality, let me rephrase it in an attempt to make it more palatable for you: during my diagnosis, surgery, and recovery, “The Force” was strong with me.

I wish I could say that through this journey I always saw the opportunity in the crisis, and that I faced adversity with optimism and a positive can-do attitude, but that’s not what happened. I needed a lot of people to help me make pear-ade. I’d like to dedicate this book to everyone who helped lift me out of this potential undoing. Even if I didn’t mention you by name, you know who you are, and I know where you live. (I don’t know why I wrote that last bit; it was kind of scary.) Most of all, I would like to thank my husband, Jim Gaffigan, who let me silently yell at him while he carried me through the storm.