The Impression of A Brain Aneurysm: My Happy Ending
'Cause I'm as free as a bird now
On the final Friday of 2023, I took a quick walk to the neighbor’s house to drop off a book. My iPhone was in the pocket of my purple pants. Dolly Parton was crooning Freebird from my soft cotton pocket, a song from her new Rockstar album. The sun poured its bright rays into my crown chakra, activating the tingling feeling of life force energy that starts at the top of my head. In that very moment, I felt absolutely free of the burdens of the past nine months. It was as if my soul was lifting and rising, a soaring bird for the first time since February.
One week prior I entered the Penn Medicine LGH Intravascular Unit for what I hoped to be the last ever in my life. Dr. Calnan had placed the pipeline stent in my Internal Carotid Artery in June and now, six months later, an angiogram would determine if the stent had achieved its job. Leading up to the procedure, my anxiety had been building. It took me quite some time to process why, despite all of the tools I had learned this year, I was experiencing such nervous tension.
Finally, I was able to explain to Amy my fear. This has been such a difficult journey that I feared something happening at the final turn. Just when we think we might have some assurance, would something else stand in the way of our freedom from the brain aneurysm? Compounding this concern, I was unable to visualize a successful outcome. Visualization had become such a key part of my ability to enter brain surgery without reservation. What did it signify if I was unable to visualize a positive outcome to this final test?
Consciously sedated in the hospital with analgesics coursing through my body, I was hyper-focused on the surroundings of the hospital intervention room. Sterile, cold, white with glaring lights, a huge TV screen to detail the images of my brain. Dr. Calnan poked a needle into the artery of my wrist and, within 30 minutes, an announcement filled the room, “Your aneurysm is gone!” Then, a coursing of warm peace and comfort in my body, a serene image of my smooth artery now in my visualization. There was no longer an ugly, mushroom-shaped artery bubble.
My recovery in the IVU went better than any other post-surgical recovery. Amy packed loads of plant-based snacks in a backpack. From previous visits, we learned that the only lunch the hospital offers is a turkey sandwich. I drank coffee and water and rested with the “T. Swift friendship bracelet” cuffed to my wrist, the application of pressure to halt bleeding.
Amy and I departed the IVU in time so I could walk to the bus stop at the end of the street and greet our kids from their early dismissal. It was a simple joy to share this news, words that flowed effortlessly from my mouth, but a sentence and a reality that would have such a deep impact for all of us. We did not need to worry about this bubble popping anymore. Free from the fear that, at times, felt all-consuming. A medical diagnosis that altered our 2023 by cancelling planned trips and altered personal and professional goals.
Now with that imminent fear pushed from the front of my mind, I also had room to embrace the goodness and growth of the year. Becoming more rooted in the gift of being physically present. The gift of coming into healing through somatic practices and the study of Reiki. The blessing of connecting with two, amazing strong women who also experienced brain aneurysms. The gift to continue embracing all that life will offer me.
When this unexpected journey began in March, I vividly recall telling my mom and sister that I have always known my life would not be easy. It was an intuition, a deep knowing. 2023 was terribly traumatic with severe emotional lows juxtaposed to tenuous emotional lifts. I recall hazy days that were really, really awful. My ability to cope was low. I shut down. I accept those times. I did not stay in that place. I used all of the resources and tools available to me - the human connections, the willingness and desire to settle my soul - and I found my way to a new center.