Recovery Stories

I never thought that through my moments of weakness I would find the strength I needed to keep moving forward. More importantly, I never thought I would look back and be disappointed in the person I was, the person I left behind. Seven years ago I wouldn't have considered myself a strong person. I was anything but strong, I allowed myself to take the easy way out. I would convince myself that if I could not control the situation, I could at least control the pain I felt from it. So it began...

I was sixteen, and too young to cope with what happened alone but too stubborn and embarrassed to ask for help. I kept reassuring myself that I had survived the toughest part and things would go back to normal. I thought I would go back to normal. I never imagined that I would never be able to get back to the girl I use to be. I never thought that the girl who was voted "best personality" for a school superlative would disappear forever. But I did, and I had no idea how much I would be tested in the years that followed.

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When we see 911 we now think of the Twin Towers and the events that changed our lives. Before that horrific day 911 was a plea for help.

I drove into work listening to my favorite morning radio show. The interrupted news broad cast made my heart race. The description of the first plan crashing into the tower brought tears to my eyes. I could feel the heart ache and pain in the familiar voices. Pulling into the parking lot, I thought of my students. How do you explain the tragic events that are unfolding?

The halls are filled with silent students holding each other. The images on the TV splash across our hearts. I hear a scream as Katie falls to the floor in agonizing terror. I race to her and grab her shoulders she sobs and says “My father is coming home today. He’s in Boston. They said the plane was hijacked from Boston.” Fear enters my body. I feel her pain. Her father is dead. Students are gathering around her. Reassurance is voiced from many.

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Twenty-five years ago I had a history of persistent vomiting. I was diagnosed as having a posterior fossa tumor (ependymona) or cancer in the brain. I was operated on twice during the last three months of 1982 but the tumor kept on growing even after the operation. I also had a condition called hydrocephalus or excessive liquid that would build around the brain. Doctors gave me a vp-shunt (a tube that was installed from my brain to my stomach so that the excessive liquid that was building up would drain out of my brain). after this I was treated with radiation therapy once a week which made me vomit constantly and loose all of my hair, I was soon put through a series of tests for my stomach and was given a restricted diet that I had to follow. All of the food that I ate had to be ground up in a blender. Three weeks later, the doctors decided that the diet was not allowing me to put on any weight, so they installed a tube into my bloodstream, which fed nutrients all night long. It worked and I began to put on a few pounds. I suffered a minor setback when an opening in my scalp for the shunt became infected. The doctors had to replace the tube. I was given antibiotics intravenously, which prolonged my stay even further.

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A single note rises, then falls like a raindrop at my feet, shattering into a thousand tiny rainbows. I think there must be an angel caged in the cell next to mine. If I could play the instrument of my voice as miraculously, would I be closer to God? It seems my destiny is to be an ordinary raven, even here, where birds are forbidden to fly.

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