Hydrocephalus: It is a Brain Injury

For years, I have worked to educate the general public about hydrocephalus. Having survived it - untreated - for most of my life, I wanted to share what I have learned over 55+ years. Up until October 2017, I had a tendency to present it very matter of factly, much like a researcher discussing his findings. That forever changed on the morning of October 12th when I awoke with an excruciating headache. By nightfall, I was in the ER . . . my hydrocephalus, which had apparently arrested slightly after birth, had awakened with a vengeance. I quickly learned that I would not be alone in my battle because of my long-time friend - and adopted sister - Hope Welker had begun circling the wagons even as another long-time sister (and adopted sister) - Renay Goler - was getting me to the hospital. In short order, my fellow #Warriors were posting to me on Facebook or messaging me directly with prayers and words of encouragement.

One of those was fellow writer Skye Waters. Several days ago, she wrote a blog that became something of an epiphany for me . . .  hydrocephalus is a brain injury. I can't explain it, but that had never occurred to me. It makes sense though because there are indications that mine was at least exacerbated by my forceps delivery.  She also reiterated something that Hope has been telling me and that is unless you have hydrocephalus, you can't understand what I go through on a day-to-day basis. Since 2017 I have had several friendships tested (and they've all survived) because they couldn't understand why I felt so strongly about the need to have brain surgery as opposed to just maintaining the status quo. The caption in the photograph sums it up . . ."You don't know my journey nor how far I have come so, don't presume to know what it's like for me." I don't say that to be mean, but it just proves that, unless you have traveled down the road the I, Hope or Sky have gone down, it's hard to understand why we do what we do.