If I survive this brain surgery I am going to be a genius

“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.

My diagnosis would come roughly two weeks later.