Deb’s inspiring story of turning her struggles into an award-winning book:
In Fall 2006, when I was 46, I was diagnosed with multiple cavernous angiomas—I’d experienced fleeting symptoms (dizziness, vertigo, loss of balance, numbness and tingling in my left arm) which only lasted a couple of days. Apparently, two of the angiomas had bled. A neurosurgeon told me that chances are it wouldn’t happen again. I proved him wrong a few months later—in March 2007, I experienced acute bleeds from a large angioma in my right parietal lobe and a smaller one in my brain stem. The bleeds turned my life upside down—excruciating headaches, seizures, loss of balance, and more. I couldn’t work or drive. I couldn’t be the mother I used to be. My life became a mere existence. In August 2007, I underwent three brain surgeries, which gave me a chance to reclaim my life.
Recovery has been an incredible (ongoing) journey. At first it was a complete and utter confusing nightmare. But as I progressed, the bad brain days lost frequency and intensity, except during rough stretches here and there (which continue to happen). One of the lasting effects was severe depression which led to a few bouts of suicide ideation—with the help of meds, the depression is pretty much under control.
In the process of recovery, I grew as a person. My life became fuller. A few days after I returned home from the hospital, feeling lost and afraid, I started writing about my experience. What started out as an “eh” journal, grew (with the help of a writing coach) into an award-winning book “But My Brain Had Other Ideas.”
Having had to learn to ask for help, I learned to connect better with people. My brain had to learn to work around my damaged sequential thinking—I came to appreciate a variety of thinking styles. I had to relearn math in order to return to teaching (I’m a math professor). Through my struggles, I became a much better teacher.
Though I don’t want to repeat the experience, I have no regrets—it brought me to where I am now. I am a more authentic version of myself, more comfortable in my own skin, more content.