We Meet Again

A revelation came to me recently: the fall season has constantly ushered life-changing events that may have begun as early as 2007. That was the first in a series of defining moments in my life, which started with the diagnosis of a pituitary tumor in October 2007. In December 2007, I had two brain surgeries to remove the tumor. After a series of complications and being on the threshold of death, I was left with my optic nerves damaged and partially blind and diagnosed with Panhypopituitarism, Hypothyroidism, Traumatic Optic Nerve Neuropathy, and Secondary Adrenal Insufficiency. To say I was never the same after this is an understatement.

In the years that followed, I continued to navigate through what was my new norm with my diseases and how to manage them daily. While I was dealing with another unforeseen medical issue of another tumor, this time, it was in my intestine; my mom was in another state dealing with a life-threatening operation. This coincidently happened on the same timeline as mine, from September to December 2014. The guilt I felt of being unable to be with her during these times was overwhelming, but I could not travel. Luckily, my brothers and sister were there to help my dad and care for my mom during her recovery and rehabilitation. I will never forget when my parents (who had never traveled by plane before) came to see me when I was having my tumor surgery in 2007, and my mom had a medical episode where she fainted in my apartment. This was immediately after I was released from the hospital for the first time, and she was transported to the Emergency Room. It was that same day when I had my own emergency due to an infection because of my recent surgery. I was also transported to the Emergency Room, and my mom had already been admitted to the hospital due to broken vertebrae because of her fall. So here we are, both my mom and I, in the same hospital briefly until they transported me back to the hospital where I had my surgeries. We both went through our recoveries, and my parents returned home.

I continued to live my life the best way I could despite what I was dealing with physically with my disease and additional medical conditions. I still took vacations to visit my family periodically and check on my parents. I also had a relationship and a career that were important to me, so my focus and determination was to continue business as usual, no matter the cost. The time to pay eventually came; coincidently, it was in the fall of 2015.  The payment was my relationship of 14 years, which, in all honesty, was not a surprise, but it did not eliminate the heartbreak and feeling of failure. I remember attempting to analyze the situation and give myself some perspective on what occurred, and a sense of weightlessness slowly unexpectedly came to me.  Just when I thought I could breathe again, another cost still needed to be paid, and it was literally with my life. Due to a snowball effect of medical issues, I had a life-threatening incident at work where I collapsed, it forced me to face the writing on the wall and make the difficult decision to walk away from my career of 11 years and that was finalized in the fall 2017.

From this point on, Fall continued to bring changes, especially personally with heartbreak in the loss of my parents, the loss of myself, and my purpose in life. At the point of giving up, the gift of renewal spiritually came and provided a source of strength, peace, and comfort during the darkness I witnessed through my looking glass.

I cannot ignore the many instances during these circumstances where doors were opened, and I was given favor in the form of employment opportunities and contacts made that I never expected. Even during turmoil and chaos, there were moments of light that broke through to shine some much-needed hope and answer prayers.

I continue to approach Fall with a sense of wonder, anticipation, and humbleness to what lies ahead.