I thought after the last few days of heavy posts that I would put something a little lighter up today. Maybe share a laugh about Nolan. I do that. I get so far into the dark spaces that I have to let some light shine through. Sometimes I use humor or sarcasm to do that. Sometimes I use beer or wine. Don’t panic, I’m not an alcoholic, but come on. We all do something. Sometimes I use loud music. In this instance, though, I feel like doing so would be running scared. I feel a major breakdown coming on. Saturday will mark 3 months since the World went Dark. My plan was to share the details of Nolan’s passing on that day. I’m not sure if I can. Now I’m wondering if I even want to. We have been so open about everything in regards to Nolan that the last private moments we’ve kept are the graphic details of what actually happened that night. I know I said I promise I would tell you his story, but now I don’t know if I can keep that promise. I think I will just have to wait and see.
I have bared my Soul to you 3 days running now. You have reacted with nothing but compassion, support, and love. I owe you more than running scared. So I will stand before you, naked in front of this crowd, and tell you why I really started this blog.
Another family who lost someone to a Brain Aneurysm was holding a fundraiser. They were selling sweatshirts that were designed to honor their Hero and raise awareness. My family worked closely with the Kat-Walk and Karo 5K for Maine Brain Aneurysm Awareness in September. https://www.facebook.com/KatWalkKaro5k. We brought them a team of over 130 people and raised over $7500 in funds to go towards their efforts. I bought the sweatshirt from another suffering family to support their efforts to raise awareness. And I felt like a hypocrite.
Here I was talking about what happened to Nolan and what happened to other families. Here I was going around talking about the signs and symptoms of brain aneurysms. I was touting statistics and treatment options…and I was keeping this secret. I’m carrying that same silent killer inside me.
I told my older kids about how I felt like a hypocrite and thought I should just come out with it. One of my daughters suggested starting a blog rather than just put it out on Facebook. It felt right. One of my daughters shared her concern about how people are still staring at her in public and she didn’t want even more attention. I tried to assure her that people aren’t staring like “OMG Do you see what she’s wearing???” I tried to assure her that people are looking at her in awe that she has the strength to be up and out and still moving. I think people look at all of us and wonder how a body can contain and carry such heavy Grief. Still, my amazingly strong daughter said she supported my sharing this personal journey.
So, Did you catch that? Typical of me, I slide something really important in and then move right along hoping you miss it. I can’t let you miss this. Here it is again. I’m carrying that same silent killer inside me. I, too, have been diagnosed with a brain aneurysm. There. It’s out there. Folks, this can happen to ANYONE.
I have seen a neurosurgeon who suggested I wait a year and see how it goes. That was good enough for me and my friend Denial. For some reason, I keep hearing a whisper between breaths that I shouldn’t wait and I should go for the further testing now. Denial doesn’t like that plan. It’s only in honor of Nolan that I am listening to this whisper. I wish I wish I wish I had known the symptoms and taken him to the doctor. I’ve been told time and again that there really was nothing that could be done. His condition was so severe that no doctor would touch it, and even attempting to would most likely leave him in a perpetual vegetative state if not killing him instantly. Mine is not nearly such a big deal. Denial says it’s not a big deal at all!
The day of my initial test, I made a comment that came across as hurtful to one of my children, but I didn’t mean it to be that way. It was an honest statement. I said “I almost hope I do have what Nolan had that way I won’t have to worry about living another 60 years without him.” In hindsight, that was a horrible thing to say. But it was true that day.
The old cliche is true. Be careful, my Friends, of what you say and what you wish for. You just might get it.