Watch over me

It’s only this week, now that I feel almost fully recovered from the brain surgery, that I realize what a big deal it was.

Eleven weeks today, almost to the minute, since that aneurysm ruptured and I collapsed on the floor. I really did almost die. And the surgeons really did dig through my brain.

It seems like years ago … and God knows I chafed at the slow recovery. Yet, at the same time, it seems like a short time has passed, considering the magnitude of what I had to recover from.

They told me it would take a year. But I really do feel fine.

My energy levels are back to normal, and my sleep is usually sound.

I can read, learn, do math, write … my brain’s working fine. The occasional lapses are very minor now and I know they’ll continue to recede.

I get occasional, small touches of anxiety, but nothing that I can’t dissolve with 15 minutes of meditation and herbal tinctures.

My scalp is still sensitive, some days more than others, but there’s no real pain. And the bumps are just my battle scars.

Sure, my jaw’s still stiff, but it’s getting looser, and I can take something like a bite from an apple.

This has to be one of the fastest recoveries on record.

I think it’s because of Gregory.

He’s a wild boar that my dear friend Kimberly sent me. She explained, “Wild boars get cranky and very dangerous when around people who are impatient about recovering from surgery… You don’t want to upset him, trust me.”

Gregory has made good friends with the other two animal pals, Mogadishu and George. They watch over me from the mantel – from there, they can see the main floor and the loft bedroom.

Gregory has come to represent all the people who have been praying for me, calling me, sending cards and emails and presents, asking to what they can do to help, suggesting we get together, and encouraging me when they see me exercising at the Fitness Center. “To think we almost lost you!” they say.

I’ve gotten messages from friends that I didn’t even know I had. The wife of someone I see occasionally at our artist’s club recently sent me a note saying I have been in her daily healing meditation.

My Aunt Bette, my godmother, is praying for me of course. I reckon her prayers count double or triple because she’s such a great person.

I’m honestly not sure what I did to deserve such an outpouring. But I feel good.

That’s one of the best things about this ruptured aneurysm. I found out just how much love is watching over me.

Today’s penny is a 2015, for Nov. 15 and the gift it brought. I think I will always celebrate this anniversary.