Knock. Knock. Who’s There?

Hello dear ones. I’ve been quiet for awhile. Life and COVID drama knocked me back a bit. A more intense PT plan exhausts me. But today, this query caught my eye: ” How well do you tolerate uncertainty?” During a pandemic? Not well. Fighting a different  invisible  attack?  Ah. Of course we all have things we cannot control no matter how hard we want to or try.  Uncertainties and not knowing are a part of all of our days and lives. Sometimes we may feel confused, powerless or even angry because of this. How do you handle uncertainty? Are you able to let go of needing/wanting to control things? If you don’t know what’s coming, can’t prepare for “things”, do you struggle to keep going?

ireland bridge

This is me in Ireland. I just crossed this rickety rope bridge over jagged rocks 98 feet below and made it to the other side of some tall rocky out croppings. I was so scared and shaky going across, but I DID IT! Yay me!!

Forgive me if I don’t get the timeline exactly right, but 3 or 4 week later, home again I experienced a ruptured brain aneurysm. Calling for my husband I explained I was in pain.

Airlifted to a hospital 60 miles away the results came in.  I passed out by now. A ruptured brain aneurysm.

And the very long series of surgeries, procedures, tests, drugs began.

That “uncertainty” thing? Man, it knocked the door down and walked right in. No knock, or doorbell, and certainly no call ahead of time to see if it was a convenient time. Just “BAM, I’m here!”


I’ve posted before about my experience, so if you’re curious you can read more in previous posts.

Uncertainty slapped me in the face, and knocked me down and OUT. There was not option to “tolerate”, “put up with” this inconvenience. It was fight to survive. And then the invitation came, it may have gotten lost in the chaos, but here it was now. “You’re invited to LEAN in to this experience of uncertainty. No RSVP needed, just come as you are. This is an experiential event, so relax and see what unfolds.”  HUH?

SO, I leaned in and tried to befriend the experience. OMG. My family received the same invitation, but with the caveat of “Be prepared for lots of not knowing and no answers to your questions. This is a “wait and see event. No need to RSVP, we know you’re on board!”


My sense of humor eventually returned as noted by this snorkel! I coined a new definition of “snorkel” My out of control snort giggling is called a “snorkel”, a cross between a snort and a chortle!

So, lean in is what we did. Once I woke up weeks later I was confused as hell. Honestly, I still am. Three years later now, and I am still reading the diary my family kept, the daily activity log kept by the nurses and therapists, and scratch my head…???? Where did all that time go? “Where” WAS “I ” during this? How is it possible to not remember weeks and months of my life? Oh, and who doesn’t remember that their parents had died years ago? Me. Now I got to relive that grief too.

Well, I’m still leaning in to this. But I realize I have lots of support holding me up, helping to keep me balanced. There are still many unknown things. True for all of us, right? But for now, I am here. The garden is planted thank to my family. I bitch my way through physical therapy. I walk and talk and cry. I made it through a long, dark tunnel of not knowing that went from one uncertainty to another. There was always a bit of light at the end of the tunnel, a ray of light the brought some hope and surprise.

Yes, I learned to lean in. My family also learned to lean in. If we didn’t that tunnel would have swallowed all of us up, or crashed down on top of us. We just kept going. Calling out to each other, singing, laughing, cheering each other onward. And all of us made it, like we did across that bridge.

I’m still leaning, we’re all still leaning in. But we’ve got this as a team. None of us have a crystal ball to see in to the future. We just do our best to be kind, caring, helpful, to love each other and to reach out when we need to. This is an “experiential event” after all.

Those logs and journals? They record events and my struggles and progress, but they also record the love. “So and so open their home up to us” ,”So and so came to visit”, “So and so sent gifts.” , “So and so sat with your for hours.” All you people named “So and so”, you will NEVER know the difference you made in my recovery and in my family’s maneuvering through this “nightmare”.

Lean in when it is hard to stand straight. Reach out when you feel scared and alone.

Sending you blessings and gratitude.



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