Wednesday, January 9, 2013

January 5, 20-Lucky-13, First Run, journal entry

First Run

20 minutes.

This morning, I sat in my purple Goddess-mobile/office-on-wheels at Manito Park’s frozen duck pond as I got ready for my first run in months. I fumbled with the paperwork/invoices I’m behind on in my car (I am the queen of piles) and puttered with the art supplies in my bag when I realized that I was NERVOUS, putting off the run I was looking forward to…looking for excuses. And SCARED.

F*#king scared.

You see, this was my first run in four months.

In early September, I had headaches that were unlike anything I have experienced. They had me bowled over, literally rocking, my hands grasping my head. At first, I thought “migraine” as I am genetically disposed to migraines and I thought that the smoke from the severe fires of Eastern Washington were the primary contributing factor.

But my doctor wanted me to have an MRI. And then we found the brain bleed.

And thus began the revolving in-and-out-of-the-hospital, as I experienced stroke-like symptoms which included slurred speech and a travelling numbness like falling dominos starting from my left-hand fingers and moving up my arm, drooped face, asymmetrical smiles, and the auras.

I was f*#king scared.

And I had moments where I did stoopid things. A Goddess friend said, “Goddess Lynne, you and stupid don’t go together.” But I did stoopid. I googled “brain bleed” and “subdural hematoma” and totally freaked myself out as I reached for my Xanax.

After that, I promised the Goddesses, my Sherpa/therapist, and neurosurgeons I would ask them FIRST how to research.

So I had CT scan after CT scan. Surgery would’ve more invasive than seeing if my brain would absorb the blood over time.

I was f*#king scared.

And yesterday…my CT scan results showed NO subdural hematoma. My brain bleed was GONE.  

I could run.

I will need to have an EEG as a follow-up to the follow-up, but I don’t mind cuz I can sport my fancy Medusa look in a completely Goddessy and Diva-esque way. After all, I grew up in a farmhouse where snakes would slither in the logs of the cabin, leaving their sheaths. Suh-weet!

But still, I sat in my car, ready to run…and I was f*#king scared.

And so I forced myself out of my car and locked my backpack full of pens in the trunk, I started to walk. I walked where the sidewalks were clear of ice and snow, around and about the frozen duck pond where kids were playing ice hockey. And then I turned around and began to jog.

And cry. And then I realized I couldn’t cry and jog in 20 degree Winter weather.  So I just jogged for 20 minutes. And when I got back in my car, I bawled my eyes out.

I have no idea how far I jogged in that 20 minutes but I don’t give a f*#k about that.

I was jogging.

And feeling wickedly wicked happy.

What Makes Me Wickedly Wicked Happy

I ran 20 minutes. Who cares how many miles that was…I ran 20 minutes.

My brain bleed cleared after the horrid headaches that started in early September.

And one hour after the brain-bleed-gone-news, RID (Registry of Interpreters for the Deaf) accepted my mental health interpreting workshop proposal and invited me to present at our national conference.

Neurosurgeons.

My honorary Goddess friend Arch who made sure I got out for walks, knowing that it meant sanity for me. Sanity. Thank you.

Ambulances. Every time I hear and see one, I ALWAYS pause and send Goddess blessings toward the patient…and grimace at the cost…500 bucks per ride.

My brain earrings made by my Goddess friend Rouly.

That I could blame my brain bleed for business missteps.

And that “Blame the brain bleed” makes an AWESOME tongue twister. Try it. Say it 10 times in a row. J I KNOW! It is a twogue tister, for sure!

Black crows and eagles.

That my neurosurgeon Julie assures me that at some point, I won’t worry as a headache will be simply just a headache.

And numb fingers will be from the cold and that I won’t need to bite my little finger to make sure I can FEEL.

And I’m jogging again.

I’m jogging again.



My Brain Bleed in early September, 2012

GL, 1/5/2013. Prevail.

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