By @BGinKC

One year ago today I was being wheeled into surgery to repair a second aneurysm that was discovered before it ruptured, and given the size of it, it would have been instantly fatal, just like my Dad’s second one was.

But the doctor discovered that it was far more complex than he had anticipated, and he just took pictures and got his med school professor/mentor on the phone, who was teaching a seminar on using a pipeline device to repair carotid aneurysms. There were approximately 150 doctors looking at the 1.4 cm wide-neck aneurysm that had formed in my other vertebral artery.

They were all slack-jawed, There was over 5000 years of medical experience in that room, looking at what had gone wrong with the blood supply to my brain, and few of them had even seen an aneurysm like mine; none of them had repaired one…not successfully, anyway.

I woke up in recovery to the news that the timebomb in my head had a lit fuse and he had not been able to put it out that day, instead he wanted to do something experimental. It would require the hospital attorney and the company that makes the device to sign off on it, and getting the company rep and the professor who trained him in KC. I stayed in the hospital and they kept my BP artificially low Thursday night and Friday, while all the cats were herded (since I have that evil socialized single-payer healthcare that the right-wing is so freaked-out about, there was no insurance company bean-counter standing in the way).

Saturday I had surgery. It took seven hours instead of three, and Tom was a wreck, but when I woke up in neuro ICU the nurse wanted to know if I knew my name — I told her my name and my medical record number. She laughed, looked at Tom and said “She’s fine.”

I walked out of the hospital on the following Monday morning, two days later, and walked the dog later that week.

Now, if you want to see a pissed off, articulate redhead…say it’s a miracle I’m here. It’s not a miracle. Prayer didn’t fix me. Medical science and a competent surgeon — Dr. William Holloway — fixed me. Don’t give a supreme being whose design flaw had to be fixed the credit, give it to him.