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Note: A couple of years ago, Linda submitted a muse recalling her new lease on life. Recently she wrote us with this follow-up muse that we thought would be great to share. You can read Linda's original muse here.
Remembering
It's okay to say you remember all the right memories, but sometimes those memories aren't linked to very good feelings. What I remember from the past few years is a roller coaster of emotions.
You see, several years ago, I had a bike accident that resulted in a head injury. I wasn't wearing a bike helmet, though I had one, and oh, how I wish I'd had it on.
After the accident, I went to the hospital, and that was an adventure in itself. At that time, I smoked about 10-19 cigarettes a day, and I needed one after the x-rays were over. But then the doctor figured out something in my neck needed to be looked at as it appeared broken, so I was put in a neck collar and on a back board for the ambulance ride to Ottawa. I managed to get out for a smoke beforehand and call Mom and tell her. Then it was off to spend another six hours in the hospital there.
The final diagnosis was paresthesia (technically, a tingling, pricking, or numbness of a person's skin with no apparent long-term physical effect; sometimes called "pins and needles" or having some part of your body "fall asleep.")
Two days later, we were back at the hospital. I was complaining about my headache, which was extreme, so my husband took me directly from work to the hospital. We got there at 4:00, and they did a CT scan, but it didn't show anything. This was with a new doctor, and she decided to call the full-time doctor to double-check.
The doctor repeated the tests – again – but I noticed she was paying attention to when I made mistakes. She ordered a CT scan with dye. Then we sat around and waited for the results. Gilles (my husband) was impatient so I told him to go ask her if she had the results.
Right then and there, our world changed. Imagine how it feels to have your very center sucked right out when you are told you have a 6x6-centimeter aneurysm - or maybe it's two aneurysms, the doctors think.
Fast forward. Four months to the day after the bike accident, it was time to leave for the hospital for the surgery. That four-day surgery stay turned into 53 days. There are things I don't remember because my brain was healing during that time. But I can remember my husband singing to me. Gilles's singing was loud and clear: "You are sunshine, my only sunshine" - letting his love show, and I heard him, through all the bad dreams. And somehow, I let him know I loved him with a single tear. Several days later, I started my road to recovery.
Some things changed after that. Now, I cry when I watch TV. Stupid things touch my heart. But on the other hand, I just don't seem to care about things like I used to. Why is that? Could it be because I died for three minutes?
I now have difficulty speaking when put under pressure. Half my body doesn't work well. Memory problems, among other things, show up when I'm tired.
But one thing is for sure: Life is truly a miracle. God came through the door, and we sat down and talked. Now isn't the time for me to go.
However, there's one small drawback – I now have totally salt-and-pepper hair. If that's one of the drawbacks to sticking around a little longer, then so be it.
- Lynda B.
Muse: To be absorbed in one's thoughts; engage in meditation. Not intended to solve the world's problems, another person's problems, or to cover topics completely. One does not have to agree with musings to enjoy them, just as one does not have to be the same as someone else to appreciate who they are.
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