Some people are ashamed of their scars. Also, some people are ashamed of other people’s scars. After my first set of brain surgeries in 2016, it was one of the very first times I was ever grossed out by my own body. I couldn’t even touch the ear-shaped scar filled with dissolvable stitches (although I thought it was pretty cool when the stitches would fall out! 😊), and in the beginning I washed that part of my scalp with a loufah instead of my fingers. However, I am not only unashamed of my scars, but want to let them be, uncovered and all. I want to let my hair fall naturally and no longer always part it on the other side. I also now have two different textures of hair– and you know what?– even though it often annoys me, it’s OKAY. Good, even. I know I am still a beautiful woman created by God WITH my scars. And, yes, with my next set of surgeries beginning July 7th (I mentioned May in a previous post, but the newest date is July 7th) I will probably have more/new scars and they might gross me out in the beginning. I may cover up hair loss with a wig. But, eventually, I hope to proudly display my scars again, embracing my true self and choosing not to hide them (some of the time, anyway 😉).
Henceforth, when my posts relate to my surgeries, I want to introduce the hashtag #journalthejourney !
Deciding to write about my own experiences was not an instant decision. I don’t usually read many memoirs and I knew that if/when I ever wrote about my own experiences, I would have to do a lot of background research because there is so much technical medical information. And I just plain old didn’t want to. Also, I honestly don’t remember that much about my cancer. I know quite a bit of information, but I don’t even remember many of the medical people from my young childhood who get soooo (did I say “so?”) excited to see the healthy, grown-up me.
But I didn’t really think about writing much about my amazing epilepsy journey– how I should have been dead from that alone almost 5 1/2 years ago. And I didn’t think about my journals.
That’s my nonfiction writing from the past– journals. I’ve loved them since I was little. And part of what prompted me to finally say yes to what has been suggested to me for yeeaaarrs was finding a leather journal that I thought was blank and then realized it wasn’t. What it was was a record of facts from my 16-year-old perspective while having a lethal medicine allergy called DRESS Syndrome (similar to Steven Johnson’s Syndrome, but not the same thing). And then the hard time afterwards while being on a camera EEG with no anti-epileptic medication so the hospital could record a seizure. And having psychiatry sent in because the hospital thought the seizures were under my control when they are actually in a very different part of my brain (and no, I don’t have any psychological control over them nor are they caused by stress). And praying to remain valedictorian of my graduating class while I was spending most of the month before graduation in the hospital (and I did do schoolwork during that period of time, too, so becoming valedictorian wasn’t just a granted wish). And now, looking back at those entries, I can see so many prayers answered and the raw emotions are so very real!!!! When reading some of these entries aloud to my grandmother, she said something like, “This is what books are made of.”
And yes, she was right. Because this is my story. And I often say, “no one can argue with your story.” And that’s true. So this is the true story of how Christ rocked my life by my future college plans being flipped upside down but instead accomplishing beautiful things and teaching many people along the way. How He has stayed with me through all the hardships, all the celebrations, and all the crazy and/or beautiful in-betweens. How He brought me from possibly dangerous situations to a steady, beautiful life. I know I’m using the word “beautiful” more often than a writer should in one paragraph, but that is what my life is and has looked like– both now AND when it looked scary. So this is me. This is my life. So here comes “God Could, So He Did– My Crazy, Beautiful Life as an Epilepsy Patient.” #thisisme #Jesusisawesome #GodcouldsoHedid