Recovery.

Recovery. Recovery can be both beautiful and ugly. Beautiful in the way that the first week I could barely take 10 steps down my street and Wednesday I walked 4 miles. It can be ugly in that I didn’t sleep for 6 straight days after surgery and wound up back at the hospital. I can’t even explain the torture that it was. Beauty in that after I shared my story, people reached out to me that went through the same thing and I didn’t feel alone. People that I know but never knew they went through brain surgery. Recovery can be ugly in the moments where every sound feels like it makes my ears bleed or the sun is so bright I have to wear sunglasses in my house. When I want so badly to be social but it's too much stimulation for my brain. It's beautiful that the community in which we live lifted me and my family up and supported me when I was at my lowest. Every text, meal, card, comment and like means the world to me and keeps me going when it's hard to see the light. It's ugly when you get follow up tests that say you are not in the clear yet and your mind starts racing and going to worst case scenarios. 
There's beauty in that I got to see my girl swim last weekend at the biggest rec meet in the country and she took 5th in breaststroke. I pushed myself past my own limit but mothers do that for their children.  
The definition of recovery is a return to a normal state of health, mind, or strength. It actually made me laugh because normal doesn’t exist after going through really traumatic events. When you lose control of your own brain and then get to come back nothing will ever be normal again and I’m okay with that.

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