It Was A Dark and Stormy Night
When I awoke from brain surgery on October 16, 2006, I could hear my breath twice for each one breath I drew. And it was loud, like the roaring of a waterfall. The first time I heard it, I was actually taking a breath. A couple of seconds later, I could hear it again…in between breaths. I thought, “that’s odd.”
My optic, auditory, and facial nerves had been damaged in surgery and everything looked and seemed weird. For one thing, I saw two of everything, and each image seemed four feet apart and a little up to the left. The pupil of my left eye had moved over towards my nose. My perception made everything seem strange, and it would take several years before the feeling of everything being “off-kilter” would pass.
I had steroids pumping through my IV in order to keep swelling of my brain to a minimum. I was hyped to the max. All I could think was, “I’ve got to tell people about this!!” I pictured myself before vast audiences of people, regaling them all with the story of the miracle God had wrought. Actually, I have wanted to tell the story of my life for almost as long as I can remember. I have experienced so much sorrow, and yet I am so amazed at my own sense of joy in living. This blog is my attempt at creating hope, sharing what God has done in one life. If one person latches on to it, it is worth it to me.
I first wrote these paragraphs in May of 2013. In 2015 I worked on a memoir with Brooke Warner as my writing coach. The last chapter was about how, after recovering from brain surgery, I “became what I might have been,” and life was just “hunky dory.” A couple of weeks later, I got devastating news. My brain tumor had grown back at an alarming rate and I would need another brain surgery. I had that surgery in February 2016. After the surgery, while I was again recovering, an amazing thing happened. I found out some things about my parents that explained a lot about my childhood. I was able to not only forgive them, but gained a deep sense of compassion for them. My father committed suicide in 1978, and my mother died a horrific death from esophageal cancer in 1986. I found I no longer wanted to tell the world about their failures in raising their children. Time has passed, and there are aspects of my story that I believe could help others. My recovery from the second brain surgery is not complete, and the work it takes to launch a book out into the world is beyond my capabilities…so, I am going to re-launch the story here on my blog, in hopes that it will touch the lives of people in the same way a book would. This time around it will follow the format of the manuscript I wrote with Brooke, with some explanations where needed. I hope you enjoy it and I hope it speaks to you in ways you need. Feel free to comments or ask questions at any time. Stay tuned.