So brain surgery is really happening. But here’s how I think about it: It’s kind of like taking an umbrella on a potentially rainy day. If I carry the damn umbrella around all day, it will be annoying, but I can pretty much guarantee there won’t be a single raindrop. But if I forget my umbrella, thinking that I can outsmart Mother Nature, then forget it, it’s gonna pour.
That’s how this brain surgery thing goes. If I don’t fix my AVM when I have the chance – when I’m otherwise 100% healthy, when I don’t take a single medication for anything else, when my kids are young and won’t remember, when Ryan has the flexibility to take some time off from work, when my mom is retired and can come and nurse us through recovery, when we have friends who have generously opened their home in Phoenix as a haven for recovery, when I’m ready to let it all go and put it in God’s hands – it will likely come back to haunt me (and possibly kill me). But if I fix it and have it removed altogether, I guarantee that it will have never ruptured.
See, I’m all set! It’s that easy!
In mid-June, we took a trip to Texas. We were driving through San Antonio, and there were fields, acres upon acres of sunflowers on the route to my sister’s house. My mom pointed out to the kids (all six grandkids in the backseats) how unique it is that sunflowers change directions throughout the day to follow the sun. The kids were not impressed as usual, but as I prepare for brain surgery, the sunflowers were the perfect reminder that I must simply choose to look on the bright side of this ordeal, to follow the sun, to recognize all that is light and bright in this world and my life. I choose to appreciate every day, to be thankful for all that I have, and to be grateful for the new life and energy that brain surgery has given me.
It’s a no-brainer to live this way (pun intended)!
