On Perspective

"Nothing like brain surgery to get you going in the morning."

I almosted posted this on Facebook last Friday, but I decided not to last minute...

I did actually have a cerebral angiogram on Friday morning-so not a lie. In fact, it was my fourth or fifth such procedure. And, truth be told, I was kind of nervous about it. It wasn't that I really expected anything bad to happen. And, it wasn't as though I didn't completely trust my doctor (especially since he had pretty much saved my life multiple times). But, I was having another surgery and that isn't much fun.

So, what do I do when I'm feeling uncomfortable - I make jokes.

But, I skipped the joke this time... Why?  Well, two reasons: 1. My parents were kind of a wreck about the surgery, and I didn't think making light of that was too kind. And 2. I thought about a conversation that Emily and I had, during our anniversary celebration, about perspective.

We both have the tendency to not understand why people still get so upset about our accident or feel a bit teary-eyed over the anniversary. To us: we're sitting right here, alive and well, we went through a lot, but we're here... Aren't we? What's there to be upset about?

However, we do not have the perspective of our parents, of our friends, of our siblings, aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews, etc. For them, they cannot unsee our damaged bodies. I didn't see me until I looked like me, but from what I hear, I looked pretty rough.

And, for those who waited each day for my mom to post on Caring Bridge, you cannot unread those words. You heard the worst there was. You also heard the good, but sometimes it is the bad that sticks in our minds more readily. And the thought of all of that, the pictures in your head, and the "what could have beens," colors your ability to move on.

And, for that, I should be more sensitive.

I am incredibly grateful for every single person who cared (and continues to care) about me and for me through all of this. I truly believe that it is your prayers and positive thoughts that help me fight on.

So, despite wanting to move on from this, and put it all behind me, I will do better at trying to understand that other people just can't. Not yet, and perhaps not ever.

And, for that, I am grateful. Thank you for caring about me so much that you can't. It feels really good.