Two years ago I had a stroke and last week I had an episode where I lost consciousness, fell, and did some damage to myself upon landing. 

I have lost consciousness and fallen about five times since the stroke, and have come very close to losing consciousness (but able to sit down and recover before falling), about five more times. 

It is scary. 

I am scared. 

I am scared and uninsurable, and a whole new person that I never wanted to be:

A Traumatic Brain Injury survivor.

Now there appear to be little calcified things in my brain and they are fucking with me and I am terrified.

When my husband picked me up off the floor, and cleaned up the blood off the floor and off of me, I started to slowly realize what had happened. I have a bad brain.

“I am so sorry.” I kept saying over and over.

What I didn’t say, but what he knew anyway, was that I am so sorry I have a bad brain, and I don’t know when this might happen again, and this is a lot for you and I may not live as long as you want me to, and I am so sorry you have to take care of me, and I can’t even think about how sorry I am to be doing this to the kids. 

But none of that could even be said. Not only because words were not forming in my mouth, but because some things are too scary to say out loud. So I cried and said “I am so sorry” over and over again while he held me and got me ice and told me there is never a reason to say sorry to him because he and I are the same being. Yes, he is very sweet and romantic but this was no comfort to me at all.

“NO!!! I thought! Don’t Spock mind-meld with me! Are you crazy?  Stay away! I have a bad brain and I could take you down!”

Ah, head trauma is fun, isn’t it kids?

We stitched me and scanned me and I have so many pictures of my brain I am thinking of creating a gallery installation. We live in Costa Rica and health care is good, but communication sometimes falters. At one point during the day I heard I had an unknown block in the left side of my heart that occurs in 20% of the population and later I was told I appeared to have a brain tumor with a strong likelihood of cancer.

Both statements were retracted soon after they were received, but they still lurk in the labyrinth of my bad brain as kind of lost-in-translation semi-truths. 

There is no good data right now on the calcified tumors in my brain, and if they are linked to (or the cause of) my passing out, and we may not be able to ever find conclusive evidence.

That may be what is real. I could get tests for the rest of my life and never know, or end up doing surgery on a shot in the dark, or any other number of things I am having a hard time wrapping my bad brain around.

Of course, I am left with my go-to super power:

Reframing. 

I reframe things constantly to make sense of the world. What if the characters were different? What if the setting was different? It looks bad, but can it also be good? Everyone thinks it’s good, but could it be bad? What if everyone wants this? What if no one does?

I do this all the time about everything, and then I pick what makes the most sense as the reason for something being the way it is.

There you go, that is a little insight into how this bad brain (or the good parts of it) already works.

So how can I reframe this incredibly scary, deeply traumatic thing that I may not have much control over? 

I can start appreciating my bad brain as the bad ass brian it is.

It is a message from my body; I can try to listen to it. I honestly am unclear of the message so I will continue to try things and collect data and keep listening. 

The fear surrounding it needs to be listened to, and considered as well.

This is trickier because you can’t really see the fear when you are in the thick of it.

So, I need to do the things I can do… to remain fearless. Sleep, meditate, do yoga, cuddle my people and my dogs, breathe deeply, put only good food and drink into my body and know that I am working to care for myself.

And shift to taking care of others. I think this is something to embrace because it keeps your troubles in perspective and sends all those amazing helper chemicals through your body. 

And, one more thing: How can I be at peace with whatever the future brings? 

Well, I think living a good life is one path to that, but leaving behind a legacy doesn’t hurt.

I want to do that, so I intend to publish a book. Like, soon. Real soon. Hopefully before the next “episode” hits me, because I want to and I can do this. 

I mean, I am not trying to throw together The Grapes of Wrath or anything, but I want to compile blogs into a book and maybe some additional material because I grew up reading Erma Bombeck on the toilet, and dammit I want to be part of the whole world’s bathroom experience. 

Is that so wrong?

Anyhoo, a book is expected soon because it is the first step to making a documentary for my 50th birthday. 

This badass brain has places to go, children to hug, books to write, romance to be had, paintings to breath life into, movies to make, students to teach, friends to love, and so much more life to be lived…

before I sleep.

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