5 Years ago today, I underwent a craniotomy (brain) surgery to resect my brain tumor nearly 1/4 the size of my brain. This date, along with the several months following, I barely have any memories of. But my husband, my family and friends sure do. I do recall Pastor G coming to see and pray over Steve and I beforehand, but I can't recall if it was the night before or the morning of. We knew beforehand the surgeon would not be able to remove it all, because some of it is attached to a ventricle (houses spinal fluid) and so that area was off limits. The surgeon informed Steve and my family that the surgery was a success. My family shared it with my friends and they relayed it from there. I underwent numerous therapies (after I was released from the hospital). One of the homework assignments was to learn what actually happened to me, time-wise. I needed to talk to my people and put a "timeline of events" together to try to help me understand the days following the surgery.

I now understand (mind you have no memory of these things at all), that after surgery I was awake, even sitting in a chair, maybe walking around?, and things were going well. A day or 2 after my surgery Steve noticed something wasn't quite right about me (he is an RN by day), and so he spoke with a nurse. After that, sh*t basically hit the fan. Steve explained it was like an episode of Grey's Anatomy--a bunch of doctors/nurses rushing into the room and them telling Steve he needed to wait outside. Nurses and doctors had told Steve that the reason for my bed incline was to "relieve pressure in my brain". No one knows exactly what happened to me (everything we learned are all theories), but I almost died. I was intubated, put in trendelenburg position (my bed was inclined and set to 15-30 degrees so that my head was below my feet) and was not conscious. I also learned that on the day my sweet Nano was being buried I was in such critical condition they were not sure I was going to pull through. I cannot imagine my husband that day...

One of my besties, Allyson, was at the hospital keeping me company. Steve spoke with her beforehand that "she doesn't look good." He also informed my family that I was in critical condition and that they were restricting my visitors and that is wasn't looking good.

Five years later, today I think about that day especially--the day of my Nano's funeral and the few days following. My family undoubtedly stuck with grief. Not only with Nano losing his life, but also not knowing what was going to happen to me. My heart hurts and I cry each and every time I think about it. I later saw a video of Nano's service (thanks Uncle Gary), and photos too. There is a photo of Steve and Hunter standing just beside him. Steve looks exhausted. The my-head-is-in-the-clouds and I'm going through the motions look. I could tell he was in survival mode. I'm so sad and sorry that I put everyone, especially my husband, through such fear. And, still now, I don't have any closure regarding my Nano. I feel especially connected to my Nana when we talk during this time each year because I know it was such a blur for her and have no memory of it at all.

Today comes with so many emotions: Happy, grateful, sad, astonished, ... Happy and grateful to be here five years later pretty much back to how I was pre-seizure (which was the goal of my surgeon). Astonished at the Lord for giving me another chance at life. I have such a friend in Jesus! A new fresh, outlook on life -- but with that also comes feelings of sadness thinking, how come it takes me being on death's door to put so many things in perspective? I have life. I am here. I am so GRATEFUL that God chose to give me another chance at this life here on earth to make a difference! I am blessed.