Two Years Ago Today

Picture: Larry (the cyberknife radiosurgery technician) fitting me for the mask which holds my head in place. The mask firmly attaches my head to the table so that no movement can be made while the robotic arm whirls around my brain using 3D image mapping to zap beams of radiation through my skull (calculated via physics) so that delivery is to the target area only.

Two years ago today:

• I was in California at Stanford University Medical Center.
• I visited Santa Cruz California and enjoyed body surfing and boogie boarding one last time.
• I splashed into the waves of the ocean with complete freedom for the last time.
• My mom hugged me as if saying goodbye. Giddily I scoffed saying "Geez mom I will be right back." I just did not know that life as I knew it was coming to closure, she was hugging the old me goodbye, and that a new me was about to be reborn.
• I did not know the extent to which my life was about to change.
• Beyond my control I surrendered into a realm of no sound or sight for 30 minutes. It is one thing to live without sound but not having either for 30 minutes can seem like a long time and be almost unbearable. It is a challenge to keep thoughts positive and keep the brain mentally sharp and productive during that time.
• I made the most difficult decision of my life. I handed my the essence of my life into the hands of a team of strangers. I surrendered my brain finally into the care of people who I had just met. I let it go and I let God.