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The Day I Didn’t Die
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Six years ago a blood vessel in the right side of my brain burst shutting off blood supply to the rest of my brain causing a rare hemorrhagic stroke. There was no warning.
Consequently, I’ve come to regard it as the day I didn’t die — August 23rd 2014. Every year I celebrate the date as a reminder that death can come without warning, leaving us with no time to tie up loose ends, no chance to say goodbye or explain what you meant — no time to complete a beloved project, or take the bucket list trip that’s pinned to your office wall for inspiration.
But most importantly, being alive and here today to write this serves as a reminder to be in the moment, pay gratitude daily and search for the silver lining with every storm cloud.
The day began as a typical Saturday that found me deeply engaged in a project in my basement: the framing stage of converting a corner of the basement into a wine cellar. Up until that day, I was in excellent health with no medical history that hinted at a risk of stroke. My blood pressure was normal, I was not overweight, ate healthy, went cycling on my roadbike on weekends in the countryside around Washington D.C. whenever I could get…
