In the Aftermath of Surgery: One Year Later

It wasn't until a year later when it really hit me about everything I had been through. Because the longest week happened so quickly, nothing really had time to set in. During that week, I was just a pawn, being moved at the discretion of a higher power. 2004 was also a busy year for me, so the perpetual motion through the calendar was another reason I hadn't pondered on my experience. But when I started reflecting back on my whirlwind of a year, it all hit me like an elephant on a rampage.

To recap, I was released from Duke Hospital on December 23, 2003, after having my brain aneurysm coiled to prevent rupture that was estimated to happen in roughly six months. I was released to my family for recovery, but since I hadn't had a rupture, I didn't need any kind of physical therapy. So life went on almost like before.

When I got home, I took a few days off work to recuperate from surgery. During my break from reality, life managed to keep going. Before I was diagnosed, I had applied for a marketing job in the NC mountains. My boyfriend was there and I wanted to move closer to him. And on the second day out of the hospital, I got an interview. So I pushed through recovery to be travel ready for my interview. I nailed it and got the job.

So a month after surgery, I went in to Dr. Alexander to have my aneurysm checked. I cleared with flying colors! The platinum was clotting the blood flow nicely. I still had an aneurysm resting on my optic nerve, but it was not active. So for all intents and purposes, I would always have an aneurysm, and the tell-tale blind spots that detected it. Because I was so young and had a family history of aneurysms (my maternal grandfather had abdominal aneurysms), I was required to check in every five years for an MRI to make sure I didn't have any new bulges. Shortly after my neuro check in, I moved to the North Carolina mountains to take the new job. The things they didn't tell me after brain surgery though...

I was not prepared for my thoughts to slow down as much as they did. I was not ready to lose memories like I did. I was expecting headaches the first couple months. I was surprised that after surgery, I started getting frequent nosebleeds, something Dr. Alexander assured me was not a side effect from the surgery. And the vertigo that made my world turn upside down was expected, but when it first started, it was terrifying. Rooms would spin and to keep safe I would have to sit on the floor immediately or grab onto someone for support. Sometimes everything would turn upside down even if I was laying in bed, making it impossible for me to get up for several minutes. My loved ones also noticed a change in my facial features as well. At the beginning of the day, everything was as per usual, but as the day progressed, my left eyelid would droop. It's the sign that I'm ready for sleep because by body just can't hold it together anymore.

Getting back to the story, I held my new job for a month and a half. My brain couldn't keep up with the demands of the, lets be honest, mediocre job. I had trouble learning the basics of the company base. It was then, and is still today, the only job I've been fired from. So here I was, living with my boyfriend, jobless, and I get the piece of paper that anyone who has had an extended hospital stay dreads. The bill. O. M. G. I hadn't seen a number that big in relation to my name. I had no job. I had no income. I had a slight panic attack.

A lot of charges were covered by the insurance I had with the job I was working during the longest week. Thank goodness I had that! But the end total had me on the phone with the hospital figuring out how to settle up. After a life saving surgery, no person should worry about how they are going to live and pay off a hospital bill in the hundred thousands of dollars range. But I was very lucky that Duke had a program where "experimental" surgeries could be covered by the hospital. My fuzzy memories don't remember all the details, but Duke waived my charges! I assume that because coiling was still an emerging technology in 2003, that procedure fell under the "experimental" category. What a huge relief!!!

Wedding Day 2004

Shortly after I moved in with my boyfriend, he proposed. We wanted a small wedding, so it was quick in planning and we married on May 29, 2004. I believe there was a part of him that wanted to spend as much time as possible as my husband, and since I was going back for semi-frequent check-ups on my brain, that meant I was a time bomb. Or, as he poetically put it, more frequently that I wanted, a delicate flower. Ugh. I was not delicate. I was tough. But even so, there was a major condition on our union: no kids.

There were two pop culture happenings that clued me in to how lucky I was. The first was the pilot episode of Grey's Anatomy, where the title character helps diagnose a ruptured aneurysm. The second was the movie Jersey Girl, where Ben Affleck's character raises his daughter on his own after his wife suffers a fatal aneurysm rupture during childbirth. My husband was trying hard to shield me from any danger from the aneurysm by placing the restriction about kids in our marriage. So childbirth was right out. Thanks, Hollywood.

After we got married, I jetted off with my mom and sister for an Alaskan cruise. This was about six months post-coiling... the estimated time of my rupture. The vertigo on a rocking boat was extreme and I was leaning on my mom for support frequently. Both were keyed in to my well-being 100% of the time we were away. They even thought I was a delicate flower. But the trip was amazing, with only one regret. Because of the time difference coupled with the headaches and vertigo, I wasn't able to keep myself awake much past sundown. So I missed out on the Northern Lights. It's on the bucket list.

Alaska, 2004

At my first anniversary (or annie-versary to some survivors, or for me more recently, Lifeday) I had been reemployed for eight months, I had my hospital slate wiped clean, I'd gotten married, I took a trip of a lifetime, and I had a droopy eye. After all of this it finally hit me. We were driving in the car somewhere... I don't even remember the destination. My husband and I are, as we put it, emotional chameleons. We can sense change in emotion and sometimes reflect it (which makes the cycle of fighting and forgiving a nearly impossible feat.) He felt my mood change and glanced over to see me trying to hold back sobs with tears streaming down my face. When he asked me what was wrong, all I could get out was "I'd be dead now." I couldn't articulate the thoughts and memories that hit me like a tornado, swirling around in my brain. All I could do was be grateful for the Hand of God having guided my journey.

After that year I was steadfast in my conviction. If there were no God and everything that happens is coincidence and luck, then I don't believe I would be alive. I have no question that God nudged me in the direction of surgery so that I could do something. I'm still figuring out what that something is, but I have a small purpose, spreading awareness of brain aneurysms. If you haven't noticed, in the upper right hand column of this page is a link where you can make a donation on my behalf for my 5k run for awareness. If you're complelled and able, any size donation would be really cool of you.