When the clock strikes 10:36 A.M. this morning, it will have been seven years to the minute that I was struck down with a brain hemorrhage. As I type this, I’m not angry. I’m not upset. Actually, I’m rather poignant.
My son came in to see me this morning before he headed to Dallas for his birthday celebration and just like I do every year at this time, I think about how close I came to death just a few days before his birthday. I think about the fact that I refused to accept death’s insistence that I go with it that day. I think about the fact that I knew that if I didn’t cry out to God to pull me from the brink of certain death that day, I wouldn’t be here.
My child remembered, too, and said to me, this morning, “I almost lost you that day.”
I just had a conversation with my sister about that day. She was still mourning the loss of her long-term boyfriend when they were notified that I was in ICU. I told her that they were finally able to get to Dallas, which was also the day I was released, that man had argued with me shortly before we left the hospital. The nurse heard him through a closed door. She pushed the door open and said, “Mr. Hinton, do you realize that your wife almost died a few days ago? Do you realize her brain was bleeding?? Why would you be arguing with her?”
I had no peripheral vision at that time due to the hemorrhage and I couldn’t turn my head, so I don’t know what that lady looked like, but I was grateful she walked in. Who argues with someone who just suffered trauma to the brain?
I don’t have any permanent damage. My prognosis has always been good. Even if the textbook prognosis had been grim, I know for a fact that it still would have been great because I know that He spared me for a purpose.
Was there anger? Yes! I was filled to the brim with anger, not only for my ex-husband, but for myself. I was so mad that I had allowed myself to be dragged down to the point that I almost died.
Was there fear? Yes! Even though the textbook prognosis states that there is virtually no chance of me experiencing another hemorrhage, I was still scared. The reason why is because even after all the abuse I had been subjected to, I had no intention of divorcing him at that time, but I also knew that the stress that put me there in the first place would still be there. I was afraid it would happen again.
This morning, upon waking, I told myself that I wouldn’t spend this day in sadness. I told myself that I would be able the business of helping other women, just as I’ve been for years now because I know for a fact that he spared me for that assignment.
There’s still so much to do. I want to begin speaking publically. I want my blog to reach more women. I want to be much more successful in my business and in my writing.
I know I can’t reach every woman who’s trapped in an abusive relationship. I will, however, tell my story to anyone who will listen so that I can help.
The most amazing journeys can have the most amazing endings.