Brain surgery
When I was 22, I planned to travel to South America with a dear friend after I graduated college. He would be studying abroad in Ecuador and we’d hike and explore together before his semester began. South America had always called me, Peru in particular, and I felt like it was the perfect time to answer this call.
But soon after my last semester began, I started feeling numbness in my left arm, neck and face. It was more of a light dullness that would come and go at certain times of the day. What was odd was that it felt like a perfect line was drawn down my body and I could pinpoint exactly where the sensations changed. Even my tongue felt different from one side to the other. It was faint and didn’t happen regularly so doctors were at a loss. School doctors didn’t believe me and sent me home saying it was “all in my head.”
But after some back and forth for a few months, a specialist finally solved the problem. I was born with a misshapen skull that pushed my slightly enlarged and saggy cerebellum into my spinal column. The doctor said I could tell people, “My brain is just too big for my skull.” :) No one bought it though.
The medical term: Chiari Malformation. This blocked the fluid around the brain from circulating properly and be pushed down to build up in my spinal column. The fluid collected in one spot, which created pressure on my nerves and what caused my numbness.
Others with this condition usually experience severe migraines or balancing issues. I knew an older man that lived before MRIs were accessible and was left undiagnosed until late in life. His body trembled constantly and he had trouble walking and speaking clearly. I was so thankful to be born with advanced technology and that my symptoms were “mild”. To learn more about this condition click here
I would need surgery as soon as possible. This meant no graduation and no trip.
Health is always a reason to change plans and reevaluate. However, I was still upset that I would not be able to take this trip with my friend as planned. I thought it meant I was missing my opportunity to travel to South America. But really, it was just an opportunity to have a different experience than what I had planned for.
I had built a picture in my mind. I’d have my best friend at my side as we hiked the Andes and built memories together. We would fumble around with our Spanish, take roads less traveled and encourage each other to adventure out on our own. We would have each other there for support and I didn’t know if I could do it on my own.
I had to let go of that dream as well as the excitement of graduating with fellow classmates. The expectations I put on this future event crushed my present happiness. I asked if the surgery could wait until I came back. I was holding on so tightly to my picture that I was willing to let my health suffer. It’s funny how letting go can be so difficult even when we know it’s the right thing to do.
Postponing wasn't really an option and I booked the surgery a few months out. The operation took something like 10 hours. They removed some bone, “tightened” up my saggy cerebellum and drained the fluid from my spinal column. I woke up with the most panic and pain I have ever experienced in my life. Panic because my body wanted to jolt up like waking up after a bad dream. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t move and I remember being frightened I was paralyzed. My head felt like it weight 1,000 pounds yet at the same time felt like it was being crushed.
I was in the hospital for a week but wanted to stay longer. The care at UCLA medical center was phenomenal. Zero complaints. Maybe except for the intern who made me get out of bed on day 3 to try and walk. I get that it was part of her job so the muscles can move but oh how I hated her. Walking was really hard for weeks after. I never realized how much shock the neck absorbs and how even the slightest step could shoot pain up the spine and into the head. Our bodies really are a complete unit that function together.
Good sleep was almost impossible. I had two incisions on the back of my head that prevented me from resting my head on anything and was instructed to stay upright. I had to hug a pillow in front of me and try to rest my chin on it to sleep. It wasn’t until my friend gifted me this giant teddy bear that nestled my head and neck oh so perfectly for me to recline onto. I still remember that beautiful release and I slept for hours undisturbed.
Me, giant teddy bear and cupcake
All in all, I was extremely lucky. I had a family to take care of me. I had health insurance that would cover most of my 250k+ surgery. I recovered fairly quickly and with no known residual effects. (I owe it to yoga). But I had a glimpse at what an unhealthy life could be like. A life bound to a bed, in pain, barely mobile. I knew I wanted to avoid this in my future at all costs and thus began a proactive look at health.
I also had the awakening that life can change instantly. You hear it, but it takes an experience for it to resonate. It didn’t matter that I was young and seemingly healthy. One day you can be fine, and the next day you’re not. There could be some birth defect that never caused an issue until some random day. You really just never know.
I don’t mean to scare, but it’s what I went through. I don’t recall an exact moment when things shifted. But I remember thinking, “I could be laid up in bed like this again. Let’s try to not let that happen.” I tried to eat better and exercise more. My yoga practice became more consistent and I appreciated all the movements I could make with my body. I was going to take advantage of my healthy body and do my best to keep it in that state. I learned to be grateful for the small things; To look over my shoulder when someone called my name. To take in a deep breath while going for a walk. When we can appreciate the small things in life, we can’t help but be happy.
I was also going to take advantage of another key asset: Time. I was only 22 and had many years ahead of me. I decided I was going to do the things in life I wanted with the time I had. The operation gave me the courage to try things. To just… go for it. So I decided that I would still make the trip to South America. I wasn’t going to let fear hold me back.
Eighteen months after my surgery I had graduated and saved up enough money for the trip. I had been working at a restaurant where the stars aligned and everyone there had a beautiful soul and we all became really great friends. I was living an enjoyable life that I didn’t want to leave behind. But I had unfinished business.
So I bought a one-way ticket to Peru and began planning my travels. I decided I would go alone. I was nervous but also confident. I felt it in my bones that this was the right decision. The most painful and difficult part of my life led me to my most rewarding experience. I like to remember that when I encounter difficulty. Look past pain, fear and struggle and there is something gratifying if you are willing to get there.
