Accepting Jamie 2.0

I have been in a state of contradiction ever since I found out about my cavernous malformation.  I can't help but think about whether I prefer to know that I have it or if I preferred to be completely oblivious about it.  On one hand, knowing I have this little sidekick has changed me for the better.  I try my best to live for the now and am really beginning to understand what is important in this crazy game of life and adjust my priorities accordingly.  I have developed a deeper appreciation and love for my family and friends.  Quite simply, my eyes have been opened to how beautiful this world and everything in it is if I am just willing to pay attention.  I am lucky that I know and understand that my days could be limited.  It forces me to enjoy every minute of the ones I have left.  I LOVE my CM for that.

On the other hand, I wake up every morning and the first thing I do is complete mental and physical assessments.  Do I feel dizzy?  Any pain, tingling, or stiffness in a new place or of stronger intensity?  Do I still have memory and mental functioning?  Can I swallow and breathe easily?  Has my vision changed at all?  Every single morning I hope that I have improved and pray that new symptoms haven't developed.  Once I finish, I have a moment where I still can't believe that this has happened to me.  I can't comprehend that it is my reality that I wake up every morning and complete this routine.  I think about life before October 25 and wish so fiercely for that to be my life again.  To wake up and be healthy, normal, and without fear or worry would be a dream.  A dream that I took for granted before October 25, 2013.

I am left to ponder the age old questions:

Would you want to know how and when your life was forever going to change?  Would you want to know when you were going to get sick or how you were going to die?

I do not know my answer to these questions.  I cherish what I have learned from my stroke.  But I was completely happy living in ignorance about my CM.  Even in the two months after my stroke before I was told I had it was blissful.  I was becoming a better person, but I didn't have the fear of what my CM could do to me hanging over my head, taunting me, every single day.

When I asked Patrick these questions he answered yes without a second of hesitation.  He would want to know so that he could live every day to the fullest.  I completely understand his reasoning.  But, until it is a reality for you, I don't think anyone really grasps how scary it is to have to live this way.  It is extremely difficult to try to live everyday without worry and fear when the odds are not in your favor.

I find inspiration and clarity in the strangest places these days.  A couple of weeks ago Patrick and I watched "After Earth."  There is a part of the movie where Will Smith's character is explaining how he overcame his fear to Jaden Smith's character.  I can't remember the exact quote, but to summarize he said that fear is a direct result of worrying about the future.  He overcame his fear because he realized that at that moment he wasn't scared of what was happening, but rather was fearful about what would happen after.  What would happen to his wife?  His kids?  He was scared for something that had not even happened yet.  This hit me hard because I could relate.  I feel strong and I am doing well.  There isn't a single thing happening in my life right now that I am scared of.  In fact, I feel enormously blessed because of all the love and support I have received from family and friends.  Everything I worry about is based on a "what if."  I can't control the "what if's?"  I need to let that fear go so that I can live in peace.

So, I am left battling between Jamie 1.0 and Jamie 2.0.  When I first had my stroke, Jamie 1.0 was stubborn.  She wasn't willing to accept the "new" Jamie 2.0.  She was going to fight and she was going to beat the stroke.  There wasn't room for Jamie 2.0 if that was going to happen.  Very quickly though, the tables turned.  Jamie 2.0 took over and Jamie 1.0 was left floating above watching helplessly.  Jamie 2.0 was the new physical replacement, but Jamie 1.0 still controlled the mental side of things.  Jamie 1.0 was often in denial and disbelief.  Slowly, Jamie 1.0 and 2.0 started to work together and coexist.  They began to understand that they needed each other.  That if the best parts of both of them were utilized, they would turn this shitty situation in to a ray of light.  A situation, rather, that would teach them valuable life lessons and help them become a better person.

I am happy to report that I am beginning to realize that Jamie 2.0 is a much better version than 1.0.  I am now at peace with God's decision to give me an upgrade without my permission.  Jamie 1.0 will always be a part of me, but she was just the foundation and starting point to something much better.  I only wish that I could have made it to this point without needing to be faced with a life-altering event.

I hope that my stroke helps others recognize the same things in their lives that I write about.  Don't wait for the moment when you are forced to make a change.  Make that change out of your own free will.  Upgrade yourself on your own terms.

Do Better.  Be Better.