November 24, 2020
2020 has certainly brought a reminder to us that life is fragile. Perhaps this is one of the hidden blessings this year has brought into our lives. I think that it is easy for us to get caught up in living with a temporal mindset, and 2020 has upended that thinking. This Friday marks the 30th anniversary of my reminder of life’s fragility. Before I relate this journey, which I’ve recounted many times orally, but never in written form, I want to share some thoughts from two of my favorite authors on life’s brevity. The first is from David in Psalm 39, “O Lord, make me know my end and what is the measure of my days; let me know how fleeting I am! Behold, you have made my days a few handbreadths, and my lifetime is as nothing before you. Surely all mankind stands as a mere breath! Surely a man goes about as a shadow! (Psalm 39:4-6, ESV). The second quote is from Charles Spurgeon, a man known as the “Prince of Preachers”, whose ministry took place during the 1800’s. This quote actually makes me laugh, “Here is the history of the grass—-sown, grown, blown, mown, gone; and the history of man is not much more.”
November 27, 1990 was a regular Tuesday in the life of the 26-year-old young wife and mother of a 5-month-old beautiful little girl. Thanksgiving week was finished, and preparations for the Christmas season were on the horizon. After dinner, that young woman attended a Marriage Counseling training class together with her husband, Scott. During the class, the young woman’s grandmother (affectionately known as Gran-nu) watched her dear daughter, Harmony. Class got over at approximately 8:00 PM. She, together with her grandmother and a friend named Jean, got in the car together, with her as the driver. She dropped each of them off at their respective homes and returned home, with no idea what was about to transpire just a mere 15 minutes later.
I was the young woman whose life was about to change very drastically.
At this time in our lives, my husband and I were very involved in a church that had a heavy emphasis on discipleship. We had an apartment that was located on the church property. After I returned home from dropping Gran-nu and Jean off, I decided to prepare a dish for our Women’s Bible Study brunch that was to take place the next morning. I love rice pudding, so that was the dish I chose to make. I decided to utilize the large church kitchen to make my preparations. Scott, my husband of 17 months, was in the apartment watching our sweet baby, Harmony. I took out all of the needed ingredients, got the water boiling on the stove, and then noticed that something really odd was happening with my left hand. It was twitching, not just a little, but a whole lot. I remember thinking to myself, “Wow, I’ve had thumb twitches before, but this is really weird, my whole hand is twitching!” My friend Sarah was in the kitchen with me and I showed her what was happening. At first I thought it was kind of funny, as I literally had no control of what was happening with my hand. But as strange feelings began to affect my head, I realized this was much more than just an odd twitch. With a degree of fear and urgency in my voice I said to Sarah, “Please go get Scott, something is really wrong.” And that is all that I remember as the next 20 or so minutes transpired.
Shortly after making that statement to Sarah, my body went into a full-blown grand mal, now referred to as tonic-clonic, seizure. Thankfully, my husband and some friends from the church came to help Sarah shortly after she called out for help. A space was cleared on the kitchen floor, and the group of people that came to my assistance laid my seizing body on the floor so as to prevent any injury as I continued to convulse. Someone called the ambulance, and I was cared for until the EMT arrived. I remember waking up and looking at the EMT, telling him that I needed my inhaler, as I was struggling to breathe. He assured me that was not what I needed, and I remember insisting that I most certainly did need it. Unbeknownst to me, the tonic part of this seizure actually causes stiffness in the chest muscles, making it difficult to breathe, often causing the person to become blue in the face and gasp for breath. I was indeed blue and gasping for breath and thought my inhaler would help me feel better, but the EMT knew otherwise.
Shortly after that interaction with the EMT, my body went into convulsions again. During this time, I was put on a stretcher and placed into an ambulance headed to Chilton Memorial Hospital in Pompton Plains, NJ. When the ambulance arrived at the jug handle on Echo Lake Road off Route 23 in West Milford, I awoke once again. There I was, lying on a stretcher in an ambulance. I was a new wife and mom, just 26 years old. I had no idea what was happening to me. I remember thinking to myself, “If “that” (the seizure, which at that point I had no idea what I was repeatedly experiencing) happens again, I may die.” I then cried out to God from the depth of my heart, “God, I am not afraid to die. I know that I will be with you if I go right now. But God, I’m a new wife and mom. Harmony will never remember me. Could you please allow me to live?” And then my body went into another series of convulsions.
I regained consciousness at some point in the ER. I remember seeing doctors and nurses scrambling, trying to figure out what was going on with this 26 year old who had never experienced seizures in her life. My doctor asked me some questions about medication I was taking for asthma. They were trying to figure out if my body was somehow reacting to the medication. My eosinophil count was high, so they wondered if it was some kind of allergic reaction. I believe I had another seizure there in the ER. A CT scan was done and they realized something was seriously wrong with my body. Anti-seizure medication was administered that evening, and I slept, oblivious to all that my family and friends were experiencing and hearing about my condition. Multiple seizures, coupled with intense doses of medication to quell them, led to complete exhaustion of my body. I slept, and slept deeply.
In the days that followed, my family and I were told that I most likely had a brain tumor with spider-like characteristics and operating on it would be similar to looking for a needle in a haystack due to its location in my brain. The impact of this did not really hit me, as I was so tired and filled with phenobarbital and Dilantin to help minimize the seizure activity. My primary focus at that time was honestly worrying about not being able to breast-feed my daughter anymore. Without going into too much detail, I ended up going through the painful engorgement process that ends a mother’s ability to feed her baby in a natural way. And I missed my sweet little girl so much. I just wanted to go home and be her momma again.
About halfway through this weeklong hospitalization, my husband received a call that my vitals were crashing and he needed to get to the hospital very quickly. He worked about ½ hour from the hospital. At the time, he drove a Datsun 280ZX. He hopped right into that little car and drove fast, real fast, like over 100 mph fast. Wouldn’t you know, a cop saw him and pulled him over, searched his car for drugs and of course, found none. Scott asked for a police escort to the hospital, as his wife was potentially dying. Instead he received 2 tickets. I didn’t find out about any of this until months later. Nope, I’m not upset! My husband loves me and wanted to be with me; he thought I was dying.
Well, obviously I did not die that day. As a matter of fact, I began to improve after that. A very knowledgeable doctor who had no bedside manner whatsoever, Dr. Leader, gave my family the wonderful news that he did not believe that what I had was a cancerous brain tumor that was inoperable, but rather a parasite. He knew of a great neurosurgeon, Dr. Michael Sisti, at Columbia Presbyterian Hospital in NYC that could do surgery on my brain that would be minimally invasive. It was truly a message of hope in the midst of a dark and bleak week. I was discharged from Chilton Hospital one week later, on December 4th. On December 6, we took a family “trip” into the city to meet the wonderful Dr. Sisti. I’ll never forget hearing the following words escape from his mouth, “Based on what I’ve seen, I don’t think you have a tumor, I think you have a parasite.” In my ignorance, I remember initially thinking, “Uggghhh, I’d rather have a tumor than a parasite.” He must have read my mind, because he followed his statement with these words, “You’d much rather have a parasite than a tumor.” The surgery was going to be done using a procedure that had been developed 5 years prior, where the tumor or lesion
“is removed with assistance of image guidance, that is previously obtained images (usually an MRI) are used to guide the surgeon to the exact location of the lesion to facilitate as accurate a pathway through the brain and safe removal of as much abnormal tissue as possible while leaving normal, healthy brain relatively intact.”[1]
Unbelievable. Surgery was scheduled for Wednesday, December 12th.
We arrived at the hospital on Tuesday evening, December 11th. My mother was allowed to stay with me, and Scott and my Dad stayed back in NJ to help care for Harmony until the surgery took place the next day. I remember reading Psalm 3 that night. Psalms has always been one of my favorite books of the Bible, probably even more so than at this particular time in my life. While reading through the Psalm, verse 3 jumped out at me, “But you, O LORD, are a shield about me, my glory, and the lifter of my head.” I had chosen to read Psalms to help calm my heart. The next day, my skull was literally going to be cut open and an instrument was going to go into the depths of my brain. There were no guarantees of any particular outcome. God used that verse to assure me that He was the one who would protect my head, my brain, during that surgery, regardless of what the outcome would be. I realized that death or potential brain damage were very realistic possibilities, but I could rest in the truth that my life was in His hands, and He was the lifter of my head. I was able to rest well that night, assured that my life was in His hands.
The next morning, as I was wheeled down to the operating room, I clung to the truth of that Scripture. Once again, there was an unexplained peace in my heart, the peace that Paul describes in Philippians 4:7. The verse prior to that reminds us that when we present our requests to God and choose not to be anxious, “the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” If you know me at all, you know that the peace I experienced that day was definitely one that transcends understanding! I remember trying desperately to stay awake as long as possible as they administered the anesthesia and counting down from 10, only making it to about 6….
Four hours later, after having dreamt that I was flying from telephone wire to telephone wire over the skyline of NYC, I awoke to Dr. Sisti telling me that he was done and all was well. I was able to share with him about the verse that I had read the night before, about God being the lifter of my head. He thanked me for sharing that and told me he would include that in his medical journal. Not sure if he ever did that or not, but the thought was cool. I remember asking him if I could have the parasite. He laughed and said that wouldn’t be possible, as they’d need to do testing on it, but he could certainly provide me a slide with its pic! I was then placed in ICU for the next 24 hours. Despite just having had brain surgery, I think I was the most awake and alert I had been since the whole saga had begun! I was only allowed visits from my family for 15 minutes of every hour. During the 45 minutes they weren’t in there, I watched the clock waiting for the time to go by so I could see them again. There wasn’t much else I could do as I was hooked up to more wires and contraptions than you could imagine!
Five days later, on December 16th, I returned home to my family. That was a Christmas we will never forget. I don’t think much shopping, if any, was done on my part at all that year. And it frankly didn’t matter. I was thankful for life. We were all thankful for life. My father gave us special gifts that year. Gifts that were written on pieces of paper to remind us of the great gifts that God has given us. I still have those weathered, browning pieces of paper. Here is the treasured wisdom my father had us focus on:
- The Gift of Life – Laura’s life, recovering health and renewed thankfulness for our eternal life.
- The Gift of Timing – God’s wonderful magnificent sovereign control of time. “Between the holidays”. Allowing the invention of the stereotactic surgery equipment in 1985 and the medicine in 1988. Sending us to Dr. Sisti in the right time.
- The Gift of Grace – To highlight areas of our lives that need change. Faith, removal of anxiety, trust for the biggest and smallest things, the death of ourselves as the highest priority and His priorities instead. Communion with Him and love for His people, and in the midst of all this to give us specific opportunities to grow and change in what we’re learning.
Recovery from that surgery was long and hard. There were many hiccups along the way. I probably didn’t feel fully back to my pre-operative self until 5 years later. Additionally, less than 5 months after the surgery, my dear amazing father suddenly passed on to his heavenly home. Little did we know that Christmas day, that the dear man of God who was celebrating the gift of life that special Christmas day, had himself only 5 months left on this earth.
What’s the take-away from this? Life is short. We need to be prepared to face eternity. My challenge to you, as readers, is this, “Are you ready to face eternity?” What are you placing your hope in? When I was lying in the ambulance, convinced of an eternity with God if my life was to be taken, it was certainly not because of my righteousness or goodness. Romans 3:10 (ESV) says, “There is none righteous, no, not one.” Travel down to verse 24, however, and you see this promise, “(We) are justified by His grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.” Based on what is found in Scripture, I knew I could face God clothed in His righteousness. What are you clothed in?
Another take-away is that I am continually reminded that each day I have is a gift. I honestly did not expect to live an additional 30 years after all this transpired. I suffered multiple seizures, had my brain cut open, and experienced other health issues following that saga. I could have died in a car accident on the night of November 27th had I experienced the seizure while taking my grandmother and friend home. But I’m still here. I try to remember to live each day as if it is my last, living my life in order to bring glory to Him in all I do. I was blessed with 2 more birth children after this health issue and one adopted child. That seriously makes my heart want to burst! I’ve been able to pour my life into others’ lives and others have poured their lives into mine. Paul had a lot to say regarding our earthly life in 2 Corinthians 5:6-9, “So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord. So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please Him.”
I’m not sure if God will grant me another 30 years here on earth, but my heart’s prayer for me and for you as my readers is that we will make the most of each moment we have. 2020 has certainly challenged us in many ways, but I pray that it will challenge us to always be ready and to redeem the time because the days are evil. (See Ephesians 5:16). I will end with a quote from Thomas a Kempis, a German-Dutch canon from Medieval times. He stated, “Very quickly there will be an end of thee here; look for what will become of thee in another world…Oh how wise and happy is he that no labors to be such a one in this life, as he wishes to be found at the hour of his death.”
Thanks for taking the time to read my memoir,
Laura Gutwein
[1] University of Rochester “Stereotactic Brain Surgery” 2020.
[2] Thomas à Kempis, The Imitation of Christ 1.23
The Revolving Door Momma 