My Brain Aneurysm; continued.

Invisible transfers, long distance calls, hollow laughter in marble halls.

Steps have been taken, a silent uproar…has unleashed the dogs of war.

 

I moved through the mist with purpose in the direction the Lennon clone

had motioned. The insidious shapes I had seen earlier in the shadows

were gone. Soon, I see a small gathering ahead of me. Lennon sits on a

tree stump at their center. I hesitate, and he waves me over. I advance,

but the mist gets thicker. I grow fatigued and can’t help slouching

closer to the scent of the crisp sod. My eyelids weighty, I sprawl out

on the fluffy green and nod off.

 

 

I sense light, and open my eye. My left one is covered. I stare up at

the drop ceiling tiles of the hospital room. My throat is dry as

tumbleweed. I immediately take a mental check.

 

Okay. Think. My name is Michael Dadich. My first grade teacher was

Sister Edwards. Heck my second grade teacher was Miss Mintern. Right.

My thoughts are rational. Thank God. Now let’s go through everything

else.

 

I wiggle my toes and fingers. Then nudge them around a bit. Everything

works.

Relief washes over me like stepping out of a sizzling desert into a cool

cave.

Now what’s up with my eye?

The nurse notices my stirring, and she looks a bit like Nurse Ratched

as she rises from her desk.

The best thing we can do is go on with our daily routine.

She walks over with a cup of water and a straw. I sip greedily.

“Nurse, m-my e-eye,” I murmur.

“It’s okay, dear. The wrap comes off soon. Your eye is perfectly fine.

And it looks like you will be too,” she states.

I force a simper, and settle in.

What a day. Did anyone get the number of that freaking locomotive

that hit me?

I rest, and part of me is euphoric.

 

After two of the toughest weeks of my life (think Jacob’s

ladder, during Jacob’s scenes in the hospital. I did) I was

released. My in-laws (bless them) were able to secure one of the top

brain aneurysm surgeons in the country, Dr. Neal Martin at UCLA, to

perform the surgery, and my recovery was smooth for the most part.

I tangled with the why me emotions a bit, but witnessed a few

very young men in my wing at UCLA, one a teenager, that passed

due to their aneurysms bursting.

I knew I was blessed. I was back at my office in five weeks.

I did however have bouts of insecurity at times.

If this happened to me at such a young age, what else is wrong with me?

 

This too passed after time, and I am forever thankful for the support my

wife Jenna and family and friends gave me during this hard chapter. I don’t

notice any side effects (though Jenna thinks I can get crankier than

before lol) My baby has grown up to an awesome 9 year old boy, and I

coach most of his teams now, mainly flag football, basketball and

baseball.

I have become entrenched at my local park, serving as park board

president and in the last year ran a series of fundraisers for it,

raising over 100,000 to improve the parks conditions.

 

I love hiking with my German shepherd, and frequent the gym (well, in

phases). I also do scream at my two crazy corgis all day (why Jenna

thinks I’m crankier than before).

 

I learned dramatically that life is fragile. It can be gone in an

instant. No time to pack, square some things away, and finish up

projects. That is part of the motivation in pushing myself to achieve a

life goal; becoming a published author.

 

I met the wonderful folks at Evolved publishing recently and love

everything they are about and I am excited to continue on another

journey with them. Thank you Dave, Dan, Kimberly, Kira, Tim and Emlyn

for your roles in this process. And always, my life’s anchor; Jenna.

 Oh yeah, and give peace a chance.

 

“There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”
― Albert Einstein

Watch for the release of The Silver Sphere on November 26, 2012! It’s a dream come true.