Updated: Nov 10, 2020
Today, November 9th has been two years since an aneurysm ruptured in my brain.
But am I really two years out?
Today marks two years since an aneurysm ruptured on the right side of my brain and I had a stroke on my left side. It led to nine surgeries in 11 months and almost left my son motherless.
Two years. That's a long time.
My life has changed dramatically since that day. But November 9th still lives within me every single day. And it will for the rest of my life.
There's not one day that I don't think about what happened to me in some capacity. I've come a long way from the days that it would over take my every thought and would leave be paralyzed with fear.and crying myself to sleep.
It might be for a split second when I get frustrated at what a hard time I'm having cutting my own food because of the weakness in my left hand. Or when I bend down to tie my son's shoe, since I collapsed when I bent down to talk to him that night.
Or when I feel a headache coming and begin to immediately pray that this is just a headache that will go away and not take my life.
The sudden anxiety that I sometimes get out of nowhere, when I start to think that the aneurysm ruptured without any warning on a normal day, much like today.
When I'm laying in bed and think - it could happen again, even while I'm sleeping and I thank God when I wake up in the middle of the night for still being alive.
Don't get me wrong, I've learned to not let these negative thoughts overtake my life as they once used to, but they are still in the back of my mind.
The majority of my days, I think about it gratefully. Like when I go fo for runs or to the gym and think of the days when my nurses would help me walk around the hospital floor. Or when I take a shower and think of how now I can do it on my own (once needing my mother's help) without a PIC-line attached to my arm. Or when I get behind the wheel to take my son to soccer practice, soccer games and swim lessons- the freedom that I worked tirelessly to regained as not only myself, but as a mother.
It's been two years - but I don't consider myself to be "two years "out" - I'm not "out" of anything. I will never be out of it. None of us survivors will be. This became crystal clear to me on October 10th when I had my yearly MRV and MRI to check on my other unruptured aneurysm.
As I laid inside that MRI machine, my prayers drowned the loud fan-like noise that not even could be masked by the music in the headphones that were given to me. When I realized, there were tears rolling down my face. As the technician told me, "we're taking the next image now, only 10 more minutes,"I cried silently.
I'm not "out" of anything. This will forever be my life. Yearly check ups, fear, dread, anxiety of what could happen - BUT . . . I get to have all those feelings because I lived! As my family likes to say, I was reborn, another birthday, a second chance at life. :)