Header image - Deb Brandon: Living in Radiant Color

Grief?

I wanted to tell them that I was okay, that it wasn’t a big deal, but I couldn’t communicate. Or can I? Am I seeking attention? Am I not trying hard enough? Or is this real? I feel my legs shaking uncontrollably. Is this a messed up way of seeking attention?
I felt guilty about scaring everyone, about causing all the fuss. I wanted to reassure them. But I couldn’t.
“She’s going into convulsions!”
Who’s going into convulsions? I felt a hand on my leg. Oh, I’m going into convulsions. I heard the sound of someone moaning. Is that me?
“We need her bra off.”
Why?
I felt someone unsnapping my shirt. “It’s a sport’s bra.”
No it isn’t. It undoes in the back. I didn’t want them to cut it off. I wanted to tell them. But I couldn’t.
A pure white light, far above me, filled my field of vision. Is someone shining a light in my eye? Am I in surgery?
But the light was soft, warm, safe. I wanted to know it. I wanted to be one with it. I floated toward it. I felt content. Peace surrounded me, from without and within.
I felt suspended in time, that I could keep drifting toward the light forever.
I continued to float, but… the light stopped drawing me in. Why?
My eyes opened to a darkened room.
Why is everything so dark? Where am I? Something was missing, wrong. I didn’t understand.
Nurses and doctors swarmed into the room. Someone said, “You’re going to the Neuro-ICU.”
I’m lying in bed, remembering. Tears well up. Am I grieving? Why now? It happened so long ago. More than nine years.
Am I finally ready to process what happened? Am I mourning a loss of innocence? Shaken up by the realization that I am mortal?
Given my condition, cavernous angioma, I could suffer a bleed with no warning, I could die at any moment. Has it finally clicked? Have I been in denial all these years. I don’t think this is about being afraid. Fear only emerges rarely, and definitely not now. I’m puzzled about my sadness, the depth of it.
These memories flooded my being a couple of days ago, and they continue to resurface occasionally throughout the day. And every time I feel them touch on my consciousness, the tears well up. Even now.
I feel as if something is missing. Do I feel the loss of that feeling of safety, of wholeness?