Headgames

The ball dropped;

2016 was here.

As far as I knew,

The coast was clear. 

A change of jobs,

First trip to The Golden State, 

The year began 

with some of my favorite memories to date.

March arrived;

Spring had sprung. 

Though little did I know, 

the troubles had just begun. 

Pain filled my head;

It stole my sight and sound. 

A dark room was my only solace, 

Isolated from everyone around. 

I'd known discomfort since age seven, 

Though it progressed over the years. 

It was here too often, 

Bringing the familiar tears.

The pain was debilitating now;

Coming nearly every day. 

It would strike unannounced, 

And seemed never to go away. 

Something was very wrong. 

I desperately needed relief, 

but when the doctor gave the news, 

we were only struck with grief.

"Brain surgery", he said, 

"For a condition you were born with.

We'll need to decompress your skull,

Using a saw we cut through bone with." 

My family was shocked;

their minds began to race. 

I had my doubts behind closed doors, 

But managed my poker face. 

We checked into the hospital, 

My parents unable to mask their fear. 

But I was calm the morning of, 

As I hoped a solution was finally near.

The nurses began to prep me: 

Monitors, needles, and gowns. 

Then that sigh of relief,

Once they said my loved ones could gather 'round. 

There were tears and there were jokes,

Anything to pass the time.

Surgeon after surgeon walked by,

And then, in walked mine.

Final kisses and final hugs,

Though now the nurses rushed us along.

Seeing all my favorite faces, 

Is what kept me feeling strong. 

They wheeled me back; 

Instructed me to count down from 10.

No matter what happened next,

I was grateful for how loved I'd felt just then.

A faint beeping crept into my ears, 

An unfamiliar room I now did sit. 

My eyes opened and I could see again.

It was over? That was it?! 

For a while I felt nothing. 

I thought I'd got off scot-free,

But that anesthesia began to wane, 

And all feeling rushed back to me. 

Recovery was long, 

In the hospital and at home. 

My mother and Kaleb tended

to every wince and every moan.

In my bed I had to stay, 

Much to my dismay. 

Boredom was my biggest enemy, 

Not the nausea or the pain.

Time went by;

I got stronger. 

Every day that passed, 

I could sit up a little longer. 

Days turned to weeks. 

Stitches out, I was healing.

One month post-op now, 

The process was already quite revealing. 

I was stronger than I knew;

I felt it more as each month passed. 

I was accomplishing things and resuming life;

I felt hopeful at last.

Days once seemed disposable, 

To be used according to our pleasure.

I now know each one is an unpredictable gift, 

That we must ultimately treasure. 

I can't say how the ending turned out,

Because the end is nowhere near. 

2016 was just the start of my story, 

of living each day with less fear.