"A life that touches others, goes on forever."

Every year since my first surgery in 2012 I have completed a 5k "because I can". Usually, I push it off all year and end up running to the Thanksgiving Day Parade by myself or I run to Times Square on New Year's Eve to complete 3.2 miles alone. I was given the opportunity to participate in the Daniel Beer Memorial 5K. Daniel Beer passed suddenly on July 10th, six days following his 11th birthday.  This would be my first organized 5K in 5 years and I was so excited to participate in such a meaningful race to commemorate my friends son.
Three and a half weeks ago, I got a call that my neurologist had passed away. Because it was right before a holiday there was no formal shiva or any public grieving opportunity for me to mourn him and have a sense of closure. I had been reflecting on all of the extra-ordinary actions he has done for me throughout the years. He was always my biggest cheerleader and called me frequently as I was struggling to re-learn to walk. He would smile from ear to ear when I would go to his office to show him my progress each month. I remember telling him about my first 5K, The Color Run, in 2013 and he got up from behind his desk and hugged me because he was so proud.
I never had the honor to meet Daniel, though through his moms stories about him over the summers, it feels as though I knew him. He was a fun-loving, happy, sweet, funny boy who had the brightest smile in the world.
As the Daniel Beer Memorial 5K got closer, I decided I would run this official 5K not only in memory of Daniel, but also in honor of my neurologist, Dr. Alex Schick, who supported me through and through from the moment I was unable to walk in 2012 until I gained back every deficit in 2016.
As they say, "We make plans, and God laughs." I was accepted to staff a Birthright trip and had to be at an all day training today, the day of the 5K. I was devastated to miss this event. An event which, for me, would honor two special souls. After getting 3 hours of sleep last night, attending an 8.5 hour training, I got home, changed into my Daniel Beer Memorial 5K t-shirt, mapped out what 3.2 miles would be, put on my sneakers and off I went. I ran/jogged for most of the 3.2 miles. The sun was setting on the Hudson as I ran. I couldn't imagine a more beautiful sky to be looking at as I ran and finished the 5K for Daniel and for Dr. Schick-- just as the sun set.

BDE Daniel Beer and Dr. Alex Schick

"We can't help everyone; but everyone can help someone."

February 23rd again. You know what that means... Brainaversary Day!!

Some people have said to me, "Mel, it's been 6 years-- are you seriously still celebrating February 23rd?" And the answer I will proudly give after 6 years, after 10 years, after 30 years, is "Duh!" My braincapades were long and scary [most of the] times. They showed me how strong I am as a fighter and how strong of a support system I have. They taught me the power of hope and prayers. They taught me that while medicine is super advanced and seemingly all knowing, doctors can be wrong. They can make mistakes during surgeries. They can make mistakes in prognoses. They are just people.

It's important (and therapeutic) for me to talk about my braincapades because I never know who is listening. Over the last 6 years I know of 8 people who I have helped through advice, doctor referrals and/or just listening to someone cry about their fears of not recovering. I would love to see that number grow. I've learned about the workings of the brain; I've learned about medicine; I've learned about doctors and surgeons, who to use and who not to use... I've learned about organizations to help people find the right doctors and assist with costs to get to that doctor; I've learned about therapeutic techniques for recovery... The list goes on and on. If my experience can help even just 1 person, I will be happy. The fact that I have been able to help 8 people already blows my mind! I don't celebrate my brainaversary to get sympathy points-- quite frankly, there's nothing to feel sympathetic about... I celebrate because there is so much in the world to mourn, why not bring in a reason to celebrate once in a while? Celebrating a day for being alive and healthy doesn't hurt anyone, if anything, it just might connect me with someone who is struggling and I can help.

Every morning I wake up and say Modeh Ani (a prayer for being alive in the morning). As I say those 12 simple words I think back to February 25, 2012, the day when I tried to stand up for the first time after surgery and fell to the ground, unsure of what my life might be like moving forward. I think about the doctors telling me I will never walk without an assistive device. I think about how my mom had to hold me up next to a sink so that I could wash both of my hands together. I think about my physical therapists who gave me the most personalized therapies and helped me gain back all of the strength I had lost. I think about my neurologist celebrating every mini-milestone by my side. I think about the surgeons' faces when I walked into their office without a cane or a walker. And I close my eyes when I say the last word in the prayer, "Emunatecha" (loosely translated to: I have faith in G-d) and I know that today is going to be a great day!

Braink you all for letting me celebrate and celebrating alongside me!

xox

"You got to get up every morning, with a smile on your face..."

You guys!!! Happy 5 year brainaversary!!!!

Everyone has those dates that no matter what will be etched in their brains forever; those smells that will bring them back to a place and time; those memories that they will never forget. For me, that is February 23, 2012, the smell of sanitary alcohol, and all of the pre and post op nerves, excitement, fear etc.

It is weird to think its been 5 years when my memories of that day are still so sharp. I look at my students who are 5 years old and think of all that can happen in 5 years... it just boggles my mind and I am so thankful for every step of the way.

This is my first February 23rd, ever, not having an AVM in my brain. No headaches, no AVM, no anxiety over braincapades... just a regular day.

While I will always have elevated nerves when it comes to a headache, and I have had my share of brain drama since the obliteration in March, I have never been more excited about celebrating on February 23rd.  My life changing date. My scariest day. My craziest day. My brainaversary.

xox

Turkey Trot 2016

5 years ago, almost to the day, I was diagnosed with a cerebellar AVM. As if that wasn't enough, after a complication during surgery a couple of months later, I was faced with relearning to walk. Not able to stand without assistance, I made a goal to complete a 5K. After much hard work and amazing therapists, I was surrounded by my friends and family as I ran through the finish line of my first 5K in September 2012 Since that day, I promised myself that once a year, I will complete a 5K because I can!
This year I really wanted to do a Thanksgiving Turkey Trot, unfortunately all of the ones I could make it to were sold out. Instead, I mapped 3.1 miles and ran from my apartment to the Thanksgiving Day Parade. Without any training, I completed it with a little over 15 minute miles.
As I ran the last mile, I realized that this will be my first (of many more) 5Ks post-AVM life... and that felt great! Today, and everyday, I am thankful for my health, friends and family. Happy Thanksgiving!!

It isn't official until it's official

After my angiogram, I had the films sent to Arizona and waited for them to review it... I called to tell them I didn't need them to review it because I was already told that they saw no AVM. The people in the Arizona office told me that the doctor here might have not seen any AVM, but that doesn't mean there wasn't any residual vessels that need to be watched or taken care of, etc. So, naturally, my elation was short-lived and I went back to feeling uneasy until I heard the final word from Arizona. Days and days past and I hadn't heard from them. Finally, today (2 and a half weeks later) I got the call I've been waiting for... "There is no AVM and no residual vessels affected. No need for any follow ups in the future with neurologists or surgeons or any radiation or screenings. You're cured!" 

And now to celebrate, I will sleep soundly tonight! 

Great day! :-)

xox

Amazing Victory for Mel

I went into NY Presbyterian hospital at 7 am today and was taken into the angiogram by 8. I was awake during the procedure but they injected me with meds to calm me down. During the angiogram, the doctor was telling me when to hold my breath, when I would feel warm/burning sensations and when I would see sparks or clouds. It was actually one of the craziest things because I literally felt them in my brain for an hour, poking around, taking pictures and injecting dyes. 

The doctors were talking throughout the procedure to each other in medical terms I don't know so I wasn't really paying attention until the surgeon said "You're cured." "What? Me? Does that mean there's no AVM???" "Yes. That's right, your brain looks great-- no AVM, the gamma knife worked." So obviously I started hysterically crying on the table. One of the nurses asked if I was in pain or in joy? I said joy!! 

They finished the procedure and closed up my wound (more painful than I remembered from last time-- I was screaming in pain, crying from joy, and it was just a crazy scene.) I opened my eyes and my left eye had a blackness over it. I began to panic a little that I couldn't see. The nurse did some neurological and vision tests, I failed them because I couldn't see from one eye. She told me that he last injected dye to my left side that was next to the optic nerve so she was confident it was a temporary loss. 

I was rolled out of the OR and with my eyes closed and my head splitting, I whispered to my family "guys, guess what? My AVM is gone." After they spoke to the surgeon I said to them: "Guys, I made up a joke .. What does AVM stand for? ...Amazing Victory for Mel!" And then I fell asleep. 

I had a splitting headache from irritation from the catheter in my brain and I was nauseas as ever! It made me more dizzy and nauseous to have my eyes open, since I couldn't see out of my left eye, so I laid there with Abigail (my giraffe) over my face, an ice pack on the back of my head and an ice pack on my puncture wound for hours. I was in and out of it for the next few hours. I couldn't lift my head and was in excruciating pain when I would open my eyes and/or move my head. The nurses were incredible and super sweet.  But I was in bad shape. They pumped saline and antinausea into me for a few hours and I drank a ton of water-- the verdict was that once the contrast would flush out, my vision would go back to normal, the headache would subside and because of those, the nausea would be gone. 

I was discharged from the hospital still nauseous and with a headache, but thank God, my vision was back to normal! Now I'm home, nausea subsided, vision is normal and now I'm just waiting for the headache to vanish.

Since November 2011, I have had AVM on my mind, literally and figuratively. And tonight, for the first time in a long 4.5 years, I will sleep soundly. 

I also just wanted to take a second to clear up any confusion about what an AVM is: 

AVM stands for arteriovenous malformation (arteries, veins... malformation) it is a tangle of arteries and veins that is a random birth defect, not genetic, that can happen to anyone,  anywhere in the body. I was lucky enough to have it in the prime real estate of my brain. 

An AVM is not a tumor, it is a vascular malformation... A cousin to an aneurism ... If the doctor hadn't screwed up in 2012, this road to recovery would have been much shorter. But now, March 16, 2016, I am officially AVM free!! 

Thank you to everyone who prayed, called, texted, facebooked and supported me and my family throught the last few days and over the last 5 years!! The braincapades are over.. Time to celebrate!!!! 

Braink You all for being incredible people!!! Xox

Here goes nothing... err... everything!

This week has been a roller coaster of a week!
I got my last 2 doctors reports: "Inconclusive: cannot tell if there is an AVM based on the MRI, [I] need to go to Arizona for an angiogram." Not quite the great news I was expecting, but I was expecting to go to Arizona for an angiogram, so that's good. I feel comfortable with the Arizona doctors and even though it's a fairly routine procedure, a person will still be inside of my brain and I only want someone who I trust doing that-- that made it worth my trip to Arizona.
BUT WAIT!
Then everything changed.
After a week of swirling logistics, stress and tears, I will not be going to Arizona for the angiogram. I will be staying local in NYC for it. My neurologist, who I trust, referred me to a Dr. Pierre Gobin at NY Presbyterian and between his referral and a few friends of mine gave me a good review on him and his "Health Grade" is 5 stars, I made an appointment for this Wednesday, March 16th.
I will be going in in the morning for an 1-1.5 hour angiogram followed by a 5-6 hour recovery in the hospital; then released (it's outpatient) and I go home to recover on bed rest for a few days. They will be sending the pictures they take to Arizona so that my doctors, who I trust there, will review my case and we will take it from there.
There isn't a braink you card big enough to properly express my gratitude and appreciation to all of my friends and family who have been guiding me and supporting me through this crazy week!
xox

Off to a GREAT start!!!!

So here's big update for yall. I went for my 3 year MRI this morning. (After my gamma knife surgery in 2013, they told me to wait 3 years and then I will know if the AVM is gone; so now is my 3 year mark.) While I was filing out my forms, I was hysterically crying filling out my brain history; thinking of how much this AVM has put me through and how crazy the last 4 years have been because of it. I went in for the MRI, which I am basically an expert at by now, and cried more as I laid there thinking about how my gut is telling me the AVM will never be gone and MRIs will be my regular routine for life. When I came out, I asked the technician if I had an AVM anymore. She was not allowed to tell me, even though I begged and cried... Instead, she made sure to tell the radiologist to read the scans quickly and let me know. So, this week I am waiting for the radiologist at the MRI place to give his report, my neurologist to give his report and my Arizona doctor to give his report. As long as all of these reports say that the AVM is gone, I go to Arizona next month to get an angiogram and make sure that it is really gone and not just MRI camera shy.

So HERE is the big news: the first of the three doctors gave his report... I have scar tissue (as expected from my brain history) but, HE CANNOT FIND ANY AVM!!!!!!!! Now we wait for the next two days to hear from my other two doctors to confirm this report and then were off to Arizona!!

YAYAY!!!!! March 1st, you are a great day!!!!!

Braink You for Another Healthy Year!!

Here it is again, February 23rd. 

For the past 4 years, February 23rd has been a kind of celebratory day for me, a day I marked with braineoke parties, brainaversary meals and brain themed goodies. My rationale was that I was celebrating life, celebrating survival and resilience... Celebrating weird stuff. 

This year the date has a different connotation to me. I have an appointment with my neurologist today, potentially one of the lasts, where I will get a script for an MRI, potentially my last, which will tell me if the AVM is gone or needs more treatment... This year, February 23rd, again a pivotal date, but this time it's the beginning of the end of a long road. So there will be updates in the weeks to come, hopefully great ones, and there will be stress and crazy nerves... But this year the celebration will not be on February 23rd, it will be in April, hopefully the end of my long road to recovery. 

Thank you to everyone for your emotional support and putting up with me the last few months, but I see the light at the end of the tunnel!!! 

Happy February 23rd! 

If not now, then when?

As November comes to an end, I realized that I haven't ran a 5K this year, as my goal is each year. The days are getting shorter and colder, and the year is just about over. Yes, I walked to Teaneck from the Upper West Side, and yes, that was 13+ miles... but that had nothing to do with my goal. My goal is to complete a 5k distance each calendar year.

Last night, I was in the car thinking of all the reasons last night would be a terrible night to complete my goal: I messed up my ankle last week, I have a bad cough, it's dark, it's late, it's cold, I'm too lazy, I'm too tired, and the list goes on and on... I realized that I can come up with 100 excuses every single day for why I cannot complete the 5k, but more importantly, I have one very big reason TO complete it-- I can. So last night, I wrapped my bad ankle, put on my sneakers and ran in the 45 degree night from my apartment to 73rd and broadway and back to my apartment-- 3.42 miles. Yes, I coughed most of the way and had to walk as I wheezed, and yes my ankle swelled up to new sizes when I got home... but none of that mattered. I did it!

There will always be 100 reasons not to do something, but it is the most important thing to find the one reason to drive you to run in the cold with a messed up ankle, and a chest situation because at the end of the day, I completed my 2015 5k. This is probably what that Pirkei Avot* was talking about...




* Pirkei Avot (Hebrew: פרקי אבות‎) (also Pirkei Avoth or Pirkei Avos), which translates to English as Chapters of the Fathers, is a compilation of the ethical teachings and maxims of the Rabbis of the Mishnaic period. 

"Don't count the days, make them count!"

6 months from today will be my 3 year Gammaversary-- why is that a big deal? Because that day will determine if my braincapades are over and will be just a weird memory. 6 months feels like tomorrow but at the same time feels like it could take longer than the last two and a half years. As I thought about how these 6 months might affect me, I realized that nothing will change in my life. I will still say modeh ani every morning when I wake up, I will still stay optimistic about life, I will still get in bad moods when I things get annoying, I will still stay up late watching FRIENDS and regretting it in the morning,  I will still love my job and all things giraffes, I will still be drawn to everything that has to do with brains and I will still educate people on brains to the best of my ability. So, I found the quote that fits my feelings about the next 6 months.... I will not count down the days--  I will make every day count, as I try to always do; I will continue seeing my neurologist and keeping my stress level low; I will keep starting diets on Monday mornings :-P, but most of all, I will not count down days because that is just a waste of time.

Let Your Faith Be Bigger Than Your Fear

So before I write about todays update, I want to give a gigantic shout out to my awesome friends and co-workers who have truly supported me the last few days-- I appreciate you all more than you can know!!

I had my two year gamma-check-up MRI last week on Monday. I had received a report from the radiologist on Tuesday stating all was the same except for a "draining vein that redemonstrated." I tried to stay calm and think shrinking thoughts. Preparing of the worst possible scenario, I made peace with every outcome they could have given me. But I lost sleep and had no appetite while I waited for the call from Arizona-- it was the not knowing that was eating me up and I was a mess. But my faith was bigger than my fear and I was ready for anything they were going to tell me. After a lot of stress and, ironically, a headache, Arizona got my scans and read them.

The AVM is reacting to the treatment, as per this "redemonstrated" vein, and the AVM is stable even though it has not shrunk since last year. The redemonstrated vein is a draining vein and not a feeder vein to the AVM, meaning that there is no threat of it rupturing the AVM; it is working at draining the blood from the AVM as it pumps in. They said results like this in the second year check up are perfectly normal, but they do expect a huge reaction on the AVM's walls from year two to three so start thinking shrinking thoughts for my next check up in April 2016!

So while I did not get the shrink I was hoping for, I did get good news of a stable and appropriately reacting AVM. And with that, I can sleep for the first time all week.

Everything is AWESOME!!!

HAPPY 3 YEAR BRAINAVERSARY!!!

I cannot believe its been 3 years already, still feels like a few months ago. 

People have asked me why I celebrate the brainaversary today when it wasn't even the final surgery, and it was the day of the complication... 

I celebrate my brainaversary because February 23rd, 2012 was the day that I learned what being strong means,  today is the anniversary of the day that I put all of my faith in G-d and fearlessly walked in to what should have been a terrifying surgery, the anniversary of the day I met the most amazing nurses at Roosevelt Hospital, the anniversary of the most seemingly unfair day that ended up changing my life, it's the anniversary of the day I survived... I celebrate to celebrate life. 

There are thousands upon thousands of reasons not to smile every second of the day. But as long as you are reading this, you woke up this morning and that is a beautiful reason to smile.

Find the beauty in the mundane. Whether it be brains, or some other weird organ... chose something that changed you, chose something that inspires you, chose something that intrigues you, smile about it, laugh about it.... celebrate it! 

It's 28 degrees out but it feels like awesome!

I have always been somewhat of a procrastinator, but this time I really outdid myself. I made myself a promise that I would complete a minimum of 1 5K every year since I relearned to walk. I did the color run in 2013 surrounded by friends and family; but, somehow, 2014 got away from me without completing any 5Ks....
With 1 day left in 2014, I had to keep my promise to myself. So, I got home from work today, put on two pairs of socks, two pairs of pants, two shirts, a scarf, a jacket, gloves and a hat and in 28 degree evening windy weather, I went for a run. I have not been training AT ALL for this, so I was nervous I would not be able to successfully complete this goal. I calculated a route down Broadway, so I would have the 1 train as a safety, in case I got too tired or unable to complete the 5K on this freezing evening. From my apartment to the Times Square 2 train, on Broadway, calculated to exactly 3.2 miles... 5 kilometers. PERFECTION!
I started with running, after a few blocks I was out of breath and feeling it in my legs already... only 3.1 miles to go!
I turned my itunes on on my phone and ran to my music, a mixture of slow jogging, fast running, walking... kept checking my pedometer app to see how far I had gone and then I saw 2.78 miles, I was feeling so incredible that I began running. Running through the crazy tourist pedestrians. Running for the last 10ish blocks until I completed my 5K!
The adrenaline was rushing through me, I didn't even care that I was running right into Times Square on the eve of New Years Eve. Hundreds of people were squished like sardines in the barricaded sidewalks, tourists standing in the middle of the sidewalks, starring at the ball... but I just kept smiling. Smiling until I made it to the train, which turns out was a total of 3.91 miles from my apartment*. So, not only did I complete a 5K with hours left of 2014, I finished with almost an extra mile!
I nearly let 2014 go without keeping my word, and I will not cut it that close again in 2015. I cannot take my walking/running for granted! I feel so accomplished, and blessed-- what a great way to end the year!

Happy New Year Everyone!!

*Turns out, when the crosswalks would say 'don't walk', I would cross the street, rather than going straight. I didn't want to stop moving, and apparently, that added walking added distance to the pedometer, making my 5K end a few blocks earlier than expected. But that's okay! Because I was able to accomplish more than just a 5K!!

Life update!

So I don't have any major brain updates-- saw my neurologist last week and everything is still stable and seemingly working-- so that's good news!  

I just wanted to use this post to reflect for a minute. When I went in for my first surgery I was a senior in college, months from graduating... I had hopes of getting a teaching job out of college, starting my masters, and moving to the city; but, because of the complication, I essentially had to put my life on hold for 2 years so I could recover and get the second treatment. 

I have so much going on now, I am getting ready to start my first year working in a PreK classroom, in a fantastic school; graduating my masters degree in June (dual masters!) and moving to the city this week!! It took me two years, but I finally have all of my dreams coming true and I couldn't be happier or more grateful!!! 

Time to pack!! 

xox

50% of the time, it works, every time.

I went for my follow up for the one year MRI with my neurologist today. He gave me back my scans and we discussed them. He told me that he had the head radiologist at Beth Israel look over my scan along side him. He said that they both agreed that there was a substantial shrink in the AVM. So I asked him if he had a percentage of how much it shrunk and he didn't have an exact size because it's hard to do that without having an angiogram... but based on their reviews of the external size of the AVM from the original scan 2 years ago and the scan from a month ago he would guesstimate it shrunk FIFTY PERCENT!!!!! That's crazy considering that they didnt expect to see any shrinkage yet, and my AVM shrunk by HALF ITS SIZE!!!!!

So I just had to share the great news with everyone!!! 

xox

And a very happy 1 year gammaversary it is!!

Tomorrow makes 1 year since gamma knife. CRAZY!!! How has it been a year, I feel like I was just in Arizona last month... My tan hasn't even faded!! (okay it has-- that was for dramatic effect)
So I went for my one year MRI check up yesterday. The doctor in Arizona had told me that the 1 year MRI was to make sure there's no swelling or lesions or bad things... But they don't expect to see any shrinkage until year two. Meanwhile, I just got the report from the neurologist.... Guess who's AVM is so ahead of its time that it SHRUNK!!!! (Btw the answer is me, in case that wasn't clear.)
Yayayayay my AVM shrunk!!! That means that the gamma knife is doing exactly what it was supposed to do and that I'm responding well to the treatment! No swelling, no lesions, no bad things, only shrinkage! Great day! It's not totally gone yet tho, I have to wait to hear back on the exact measurements of what's left; but who cares?? IT SHRUNK!!! So hopefully my brain continues to rock this and by my 2 year gammaversary I'll have even better news to share!!!

YAY Team!!!

HAPPY TWO YEAR BRAINAVERSARY!!

Two years?? That's crazy! In some ways in feel like it's been 2 months and at the same time it feels like 10 years.
I know I've said it a lot throughout my posts but I really can't say it enough, I truly appreciate each and every one of you who has helped, guided and supported me along this journey.
Two years ago today it was a beautiful morning! February 23rd 7am and I went into the hospital wearing a t-shirt-- no jacket was required because it was so nice out! I thought that was a sign that the surgery would go beautifully and I would be home recovering in 72 hours, and never have to worry about an AVM again. Boy was I wrong.
After a 2 week stay in the hospital, 8 months of rigorous physical therapy and another surgery a little over a year later, here I am.
But even if I could, I would not change a thing about what happened two years ago.
Not being able to walk taught me so much about myself and my inner strength; it taught me how precious life is and how everything can change in one second; it taught me the importance of family and friends and how blessed I am to have such incredible people in my life. These last two years have taught me to never take anything for granted-- and for that newfound appreciation for life, I could not even dream of changing a thing about what happened.
So now for my update. It's been two years since my infarction and I am 100% back from that. It's crazy because while I know I'm 100% back, there are still things that amaze me that I'm able to do every day. Like, walking quickly through Times Square and weaving in and out of tourist pedestrian traffic; or, running up or down stairs without holding a banister; or, walking on the edge of the sidewalk like a balance beam; or, running across the street when the red hand stopped blinking and I have 2 seconds before oncoming traffic starts speeding towards me haha. It's incredible how far I have come.
I have been going for my routine check ups to my neurologist who is very pleased with my recovery from both the initial surgery as well as the gamma knife I had in April. I will need to go for a 1 year follow up MRI at the end of April to see if the gamma knife did what it was supposed to do-- so I guess that will be the next update.
Until then, thank you so much for all of your support-- there is no way I could be here without it!!!
HAPPY TWO YEAR BRAINAVERSARY, EVERYONE!!!

"The greater the obstacle, the more glory in overcoming it." Moliere

WOW. What a day. One year ago this week, I graduated physical therapy. I knew I set the bar high when I said I wanted to complete a 5K. I never thought I would actually see the day when I could. I was still using a cane at night when I was tired, I was still unsteady when the lights were out... I hoped and prayed for a full recovery but a year ago, I was still waiting.

November 17, 2011 I will never forget that day-- I was diagnosed with an AVM at 10:30 at night.
February 23, 2012 is a date that will forever be branded in my mind-- that was the date of my first brain surgery. That was the date of the complication.
March 8, 2012 is a date that will forever be special to me-- that was the day I finally got discharged from the hospital after my two week stay.
April 24, 2012 was the date that I went an entire day without using my walker (even at night) for the first time-- I only needed my cane.
September 4, 2012 I finally was at a point where physical therapy could do no more for me and I was on my own for finishing my unrealistic 100% recovery.
April 26, 2013 was my (hopefully) last brain surgery.

Now I can add September 8, 2013. The day I achieved my seemingly impossible goal.
I still feel like it was a dream. I'm sure in the last year I did walk 3.1 miles (5K) at some point... but to be in a 5K official race, surrounded by friends and family who have supported me all this way... just seemed so distant to me, like it could never happen because the doctors said it couldn't. I keep thinking back to when the Doctor showed me and my parents the scan of my brain, showing us where the infarction was... they said if I recovered to 70-80% I should consider myself lucky. A huge part of my cerebellum essentially died and I would not be able to get back to my old self. Now here I am, September 8, 2013, I still have my walker in my room (as a coat rack), and here I am, participating in a 5K. How surreal.

My team was called The Brain-iacs. I had shirts made up for us that said our team name on the front and "Becau5e I Kan" on the back (lined up appropriately to say 5K). That is the very literal answer I would give people who asked why I wanted to do the Color Run... Why?? Because I can! I am no longer handicapped. I am no longer less than 100% of myself. I am no longer suffering debilitating headaches. I can do a 5K. Because I can. And I WILL!

My team was five of my close friends and my two favorite sisters. My parents waited at finish line for us and off we went. At every kilometer they threw powder paint at us-- it was awesome! I had so much fun talking and laughing with all of my teammates in between stations and then through the stations we had a blast making sure no one came out with any white left on their shirts.

We walked for part of the 5K and jogged/ran for part of the 5K. But when we were approaching the finish line, it was very important to me that I run-- so I did, followed by my entire team, RUNNING! We all ran for the last part of the 5K right through the finish line where people were throwing paint on each other. I was so overcome with emotion, I was proud, shocked, thankful, overwhelmed, humbled, along with 1000 other feelings I cannot even begin to describe. I couldn't handle all of these racing (no pun intended) emotions, so I started crying. I cried as I ran through the finish line, as I hugged each team member, thanking them for being there with me. The whole thing was just so... surreal.

I still can't believe it actually happened. I proved the neurosurgeons, neurologists, nurses, doctors and therapists wrong. I RAN in a 5K!! I made more than 100% recovery... I am at 110% and for that, will always remember, September 8, 2013.

From the bottom of my heart I thank each of you for your constant support since the initial diagnosis in 2011. My strength is fueled by your support and I can never adequately thank you all for believing in me!!

Braink you very much, but I gotta run!

Recap: In February 2012 I had my first brain surgery. There was a complication during the surgery and left me unable to walk/balance. I was in intense physical therapy in the hospital for 2 weeks, followed by intense home care therapy for a month until I was stable enough on my walker to graduate to out patient physical therapy. 

On the first day of out patient physical therapy, my therapist was performing basic tests on me to see my ability to do basic standing and balancing. She asked me and my mom what are goals were for physical therapy (expecting "being off a walker and on a cane some of the time" to be a goal.) my mom said her goal for me was that I should walk down my college graduation aisle unassisted. My goal was that I should complete/run in a 5k race. Both goals seemed so far fetched and unrealistic....

Well, my mom got her wish. 

Now it's my turn. 

On September 8th, 2013-- 35 days from now-- I will be running in The Color Run 5K. 

I want to have a team of people who have supported me until now, support me on the day of the race. I am opening the invite to all of my friends and family to join me in the race. You don't have to be in shape to participate. As their website says, "you can walk, run, crawl, or cartwheel to the finish." 

I am very excited to announce that I am cleared from all of my doctors and I am finally physically able to complete my goal. 

If you would like to join my team, please let me know BY THE END OF THE WEEK please! I have to make a team reservation and everyone needs to pay for their personal reservation ASAP. 

A few things to note: 

•The race is in Brooklyn, NY at 9 am on a Sunday morning. 

•The race is on September 8th-- which is tzom gedaliah this year. 

• The race is raising money for the children's cancer foundation. 

Lastly, I need a team name. Because it's the color run, many team names have to do with colors and rainbows type of things. People who are running for a cause usually incorporate their cause in the name. Keeping these two in mind, I complied a list of potential names with a few friends. If you would like to participate please give me your input on our team name (in no specific order): 

Is brain a color?

If we only had a brain 

Colors of the brainbows 

Feel the brainbow, taste the rainbow. 

Proving a point. 

Cerebellum felon 

Brain-iacs 

Walker-less runners 

Color me brain. 

Brain like the wind 

Somewhere over the brainbow. 

The running brainbow

You tell me it's not possible. 

Please call, text, message or email me if you would like to join my team and give me your input on the name!! 

Thank you all for your continued support I could never be here without you!