Brett and Liz before brain surgery
Brett and I on the morning of my first brain surgery. He's my husband now.

That which does not kill us makes us stronger. – Frederich Nietzsche

If this is true, I am going to be a fucking genius.

Four years ago today I had my first brain surgery.

On that day I woke up in my boyfriend’s apartment with a shaved head, adhesive markers still firmly in place from the MRI that mapped my brain the day before.

I washed my face. I brushed my teeth. I put on some clean underwear. I was ready for my head to be invaded by surgical equipment.

I’ve blogged about brain surgery many times. I wrote about it here, and here and here. But believe it or not I will never get tired of writing, talking or thinking about the experience.

Movies tell us that there are moments people will remember for the rest of our lives.

If an important part in my life were a movie it would be called Brain Surgery. The sequel would be called Brain Surgery 2: Electric Boogaloo.

My diagnosis would come roughly two weeks later.