I can still recall my mother’s face.
I remember her eyes holding so much grief, and her expression falling astray as she told me the story of how I almost didn’t survive.
I was a newborn freshly diagnosed with a ruptured brain aneurysm and my parents, who just hours earlier rejoiced in having their first child, were instantaneously petrified. They didn’t know what to do. All they knew were doctors who offered nothing but distressing news.
When I got discharged just shy of two weeks later, my parents traveled far and wide to ensure I saw only the best neurologists. However, even the best neurologists offered nothing rewarding. My parents listened to theories on how I’d never be able to walk or talk, let alone survive.
Although, if you’re reading this, then you can see I did survive.
But, that doesn’t mean it was easy.
Throughout school, I consistently needed help in understanding material. I would fall behind in various classes because I couldn’t process information as quickly as my peers. In fourth grade, I received an IEP (Individual Education Program), and I firmly believe that’s what helped me get through high school.
Academics weren’t my only challenge. I also had mental barriers to overcome. I’m a solid believer that everything happens for a reason, but what was the reason for me having a brain aneurysm? It’s something I’ve pondered for years, and to be honest, I still don’t have an answer other than sometimes bad things happen, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.
Along with mental barriers came health anxiety. Headaches will send me spiraling into endless “what if” territory: What if it’s another aneurysm? What if it ruptures? What if I’m not as blessed this time?
I’m so beyond thankful to have a therapist who is willing to help me work through my anxious thoughts and feelings; however, not everyone can understand what having a brain injury entails.
A big misconception people have is, “Because you look fine, it must mean you are fine,” which is ridiculous. Brain injuries are internal. There won’t be a cut or bruise to show; the damage is inside. Yet people assume that because we “look healthy,” it must mean we are healthy.
While I’m grateful to tell my story, I’ve had to come a long way, and along that way, I’ve had individuals comment on how lucky I am to have survived. Although, “lucky” isn’t the word I’d use because I don’t feel lucky. Luck would be if it never happened. Luck would be if I got to go home that day instead of being hospitalized. So, I prefer to think of myself as blessed. I’m blessed to be here and to have received a second chance at life.