Election day - the great HAIR debate

I can remember only two times in my life that I've cried really hard over what my hair looked like.

The first was in kindergarten. This was during a time when my favorite thing to say was "No brush, no bows." I can't remember where my mom was, she might have been out of town, but it was my dad's job to get me ready for school. What I do remember is getting to school and going straight to my teacher in tears, crying out - "Just look at what my daddy did to my hair." Apparently his efforts of putting my hair in pig-tails wasn't very good, and it cause me to cry. My parents still laugh about this story.

The second time was last fall. During this time my parents and doctors were slowing telling me about the ordeal I had been through. It felt like I would get little pieces at a time. But my dad was the one to tell me that they had to shave part of my hair to do the surgery - and that because it was an emergency surgery, it wasn't a good hair cut. Although I didn't have my voice back yet, I do remember slowly reaching up to touch my head on the right and feel the long, wavy strands of hair. And then I tracked over my left side, and felt the brittle pieces of shaved hair. Tears slowly streamed down my face. I think part of my tears was this was the first thing I was actually able to comprehend. A lot of what I was being told seemed like a dream - stroke, brain surgery, removing part of my skull - it didn't seem real. But actually feeling my hair made it a reality.

A few days later my hair dresser came to see me. I cried and begged for her to cut my hair to make it look better - but because I was still in the ICU she said I needed to wait. Mom took me to her house the day after I got out of the hospital to even it out. And I went back to her in March to get it cut again - my hair grows very quickly, is think, and has crazy curls in it.

Besides "how are you feeling?" the question I get most these days is "Are you going to keep your hair short?" Apparently my new hairstyle is something everyone wants to talk about and give me advice for. I don't really have an answer to what I'm going to do. I have two feelings about it:

1. I look at myself in the minor and see a new person. And the haircut is sometimes a reminder of what I've been through these last few months. It wasn't a decision I made - it was made for me in an effort to save my life.

2. Having really short hair makes it really easy to get ready in the morning

I know I'm definitely going to keep it short for awhile - it gets too-stinkin' hot here. But I don't know what's next. So I've decided to let my friends and family decided. Below are two pictures - one is my long hair style, and the other is of me with short hair on Easter. Let me know which one you think.

Long Hair : (This is from when my best-friend Elise and I went to Hawaii)

Short hair: (This is from Easter)

I can't wait to see the results!!!

My God's not dead, he's surely alive!!!

Happy Easter - I hope everyone had a great day recognizing one of the most amazing moments in history - when Jesus rose from the dead.

I've had the opportunity to spend Easter in several locations through my life - one year I was in Spain and saw the breath-taking processionals from the churches in Madrid. And last year I was in Hawaii and got to sit on the beach, admiring God's fantastic creation at a sunrise service.

This year didn't have anything major to make it special - but I can honestly say it was probably one of my favorites.

My title to today's blog comes from the worship song, "Like a Lion." The song has taken off in the contemporary Christian charts, but it was written by my church's worship pastor - Daniel Bashta. As we were singing this song today, that line meant more to me than the hundreds of times I've heard that song.

Since this whole ordeal started with my health, through it all my mom has consistently said to me: "Your body might have failed you, but God never did." Even those times when I cried out to God with frustrations, anger, unanswered questions - he was always there by my side.  Even sending angels to surround my bed as an answer to my mother's prayer. And while I had a team of terrific doctors who did everything within their power to make me better - it was God, responding to the countless prayers lifted up for me from family, friends and strangers that have me where I am today.

Singing those lines about God being alive and roaring like a lion just reminded me that he is alway there, and he will fight for us, not against us.

So, as we celebrate the greatest day in history, I am so thankful that Jesus is alive. Because he has not only saved me spiritually, but he roared like a lion to save me physically. Thank you!

More than just a normal life - an extraordinary life

It's been a while since I posted a blog update and a lot has happened since Aubie showed up at my front door to give me a War Eagle get-well present. So here are all the amazing, exciting things that have gone on in my life.

The first thing you should know is I am typing this blog sitting on the couch at my townhouse in Marietta. The only company I have is my dog Isabelle (who is now 1 year old as of Saturday). She is going back and forth between destroying one of her toys on the floor to trying to help me type this blog. This is the first time since September 2011 that I have been able to live by myself, and boy do I feel good. I moved back into my house on Saturday. I do want to give a special thank you to the amazing Cobb County School ladies who worked hard to get my house ready for me to move back in. From cleaning the dust that had settled over the last few months to sprucing up the decor with amazing tidbits of design, my townhouse said welcome home as I walked through the doors. Mom and I added to the updates with fresh flowers out front and on my back porch - and yes mom, I have remembered to water them!

You're probably wondering how I finally got to this point to move back into my townhouse after months  of dealing with health issues. Well that's easy - you bring the number of doctors you have to see on a regular basis down. Now I haven't just stopped going to see these doctors. My team of doctors - while they sometimes didn't agree with each other - fought like warriors to do everything within their power to save my life (twice!). I can literally say I trust them with my life. But their jobs are done.

The first to go was my infectious disease doctor. He was pulled onto the team late when I was diagnosed with a staph infection in January that put me back in the hospital. After having to go every day to the hospital to get IV anti-biotic to make sure a staph infection didn't re-emerge after my skull was put back in place, he removed the pic line in my right arm and we said goodbye.

The next goodbye was a little harder to say - and that was to my neurologist. This man has fought for me, and I very much view him as the general of my doctors. He would come to my room at the hospital early in the morning and late at night just to check on my progress. And he even called me before he was about to go out of town for 2 weeks just to make sure I didn't need anything before he left. When he walked into the exam room at my last visit, he almost didn't even know what to say. He was amazed at my recovery.  He said I only need to come back to see him at the office, as needed, but hopefully the only time he'll see me again is somewhere around the Marietta Square.

The final goodbye to my team of doctors happened last week with my neurosurgeon - who I affectionately call McDreamy (not to his face though!). While it was sad to say goodbye, it was a physically and spiritually exciting time. Let me explain that before I reveal what McDreamy said...

The Sunday before I went to the doctor, my pastor spoke about why our church loves to have people come up and give testimonies. He referenced Job a lot in his sermon about how we need to trust God - who is good and who has great plans for all of us. I went up for prayer after the sermon to share with some good friends my fear - that my Job like story wasn't over. Yes, several doctors have cleared me, but I was terrified that something else was waiting around the corner to knock me back down. If you've followed my story for just a little while, you'll remember that just when it looked like things were going well, anything and everything bad that could happen did. I guess it's the reporter in me, but I'm a facts girl. So I really needed God to answer my prayers and take away my fear by a very fact-based way.

So back to the doctor's visit with McDreamy - after looking over my two scars (and not seeing any infections), my neurosurgeon basically cleared me completely - I can swim, play sports, fly, run, live by myself... His quote - "You can live a normal life, and I hope you never have to come and see me again." Sometimes God answers in a whisper and sometimes he answers in a loud thunder. This was the boom I needed to hear to be at ease of where I was health-wise.

But I'm not just going to live a normal life; my plan is to live an extraordinary life.

Part of this extraordinary life is enjoying new things. One example is golf. For about 4 years, my golf clubs have sat in the back of my closet as a memory of a bad relationship. I've decided to not let one person keep me from an activity my entire family loves, so I've dusted of my clubs and hit the course. Two weekends ago I played nine holes with my mom. I won't tell you what my score was, but I'm of the opinion that the highest score in golf wins - right?

I'm also setting big goals for myself. The first is to run a 1/2 marathon this fall. I want to do something to mark the one-year anniversary of when this crazy ordeal started to show how far I've come. I've been looking at different races and I think I'm going to do the one in Chattanooga, TN in October. I've been talking with my sister-in-law, the personal trainer, about how to get ready for the race, and she's so excited for me.

And I'm also trying not to sweet the small stuff. This is very much a saying my mom says a lot, but I'm a little more like my dad and can get stressed easily. So this is very much a work in progress. But after everything I've been through these last few months, the stuff that use to stress me out really looks tiny and unimportant.

So who knows what else this extraordinary life has coming - but this time, I'm excited to be on this ride. Stay tuned...