finally the end of the year with memories of the Christmas 2005 when I had to cancel my flight to family and home and friends, being left in the hospital with predicted 1 year to live. The day of "the surfing incident" is how I call it now. 20th December 2004. it was the day I died. It was a perfect day, warm, blue skies Santa Ana winds like a gift of a summer day in the middle of Winter. So I said to myself: Before I go home into the winter lets go surf. So I carry some salt in my system back home. Then when paddling in the cold water I had (as I now know) something what is called "Partial seizure". Suddenly It felt like my left arm and leg would'nt belong to me anymore.... very strange. I knew I don't have control ofver my left side. my arm was twitching and felt VERY weird. So I knew I have to get out of the water. I panicked for a moment. Looked around me, and there was nobody. The beach was a cliff so difficult to get out, especially with the surfboard and the waves crashing against the rocks, well, the waves were not so big, to be honest, I'm a fairly poor surfer. Or "was", maybe because since then I haven't been surfing much. too many bad memories. The sandy beach was too far away either. so I had to come up with something. Anyway, I felt I am in serious trouble, and started getting really worried. I almost got into panic. Nobody there, no way to get out, SHIT, I might DIE here! But then the strangest thing happened, as if SOMETHING had put its soothing hand over me, saying, Don't worry, Thomas, you'll get out of here. And I calmed down. got my strength together. waited for the time between two wave sets, shoved my board up. (no idea how I managed that) and somehow made it up the cliff. when I sat on the rocky ground, my arm and leg twitching like they were possessed by an alien force, I just knew: something is seriously wrong with me. I went to my car to wait inside until the symptoms would get better. I waited for 45 minutes, then I decided: I got to get home somehow. No cellphone to call anyone (at the time, I got one since, also because of this experience), I started driving, and went a ridiculous detour to avoid the freeway. Finally at home I called Y., my girlfriend. She came, I described what happened, and we spent the afternoon and evening on the couch, and she tried to convince me its nothing serious (as I did try to calm myself) But then, I know enough biology/medicine to know that all possibilities to explain what happened are equally bad (stroke, tumor). But then, heck I'm still alive! And THIS YEAR I"M GOING HOME for Christmas again!
Love,
T.
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Thomas -- When did you have the surgery? What was your story from the first two years after diagnosis? Have you ever surfed again?
ReplyDeleteI ask these questions, as a wife of a man with anaplastic astrocytoma, and who loves to surf.
Please respond to joel.angie.bauer@gmail.com
Thank you.