Coexisting Listening
When I woke up this morning, my first thought was
“ a week from now at this time, I’ll be in brain surgery, again.”
After my first angiogram, Dr. M said “we don’t know how long you’ve had these aneurysms,” which really struck me because before I knew about them I’d never thought about their existence. Yet now I think about them every day. Since April 9th, 2023, I’ve thought about the bulges in my brain that could kill me any minute, more than once a day.
I’ve been trying to wrap my brain around the multitude of health events of 2023 I’ve endured and to put it quite simply, it’s just a lot. All of this. A dear friend asked me over the summer how I wanted her to explain this season of my life to others; “Do I tell people you are sick? Because you aren’t sick. What do you call this?”
What do I call this season?
How do I explain what it’s like to live on the edge of “what if?”
I take my phone every where with me, even to the basement to do laundry, because what if I rupture and I’m alone down there?
I wake up in the morning to see my husband checking to see if I’m ok, because what if I ruptured in my sleep?
I wear my medical id bracelet any time I leave the house alone, because what if rupture when I’m not with any of my people?
It’s been six months since my first surgery and only over the past two weeks have I fully felt the return of my brain clarity since that surgery. This next surgery, I know what to expect and the possibilities of what my brain will do again. It’s overwhelming to think about heading back to where I was six months ago. And, I’m also grateful to know my brain can recover and will recover. We know the first surgery was a success and the first two aneurysms have been taken care of. I know my brain can do this and I know I’ll get back to where I am today. I also know I’ll always live with the what if’s-because what if I develop more aneurysms over time? This is my life now.
While I’ll always have the what if’s in my head in this season,
I also always have the thank yous.
Thank you, I have a body that alerted (through vertigo) the doctors of the aneurysms.
Thank you, I live in an age when I can have brain surgery through my wrist.
Thank you, I have made connections on social media to women who have bravely walked this walk with me, as they endure it too.
Thank you, I found a doctor that is skilled, caring and makes me feel heard.
Thank you, my people love me so fiercely that have been my foundation and my safe place to land on the good days and bad.
Thank you, Jesus, I get to live, each day.
So I guess I call this the season of listening to uncertainty and gratitude, coexisting.
As always, my deepest gratitude for all those who have held space for me, prayed for me and loved me through it all. It means more than I could ever put words to.
Warmly,
Jane