How Brain Tumors Invaded My Mind And Re-Awakened My Spirit

KENDRA LIEDLE

Kendra Liedle is a two-time brain surgery survivor. She is currently living with a brain tumor named Ethel.  She is also the author of The Best Days Of Mabel Gordon, This Is How We End, Evidence Of My Lunacy, and Brain Storms.  She works in the Film/TV industry in Los Angeles, CA.

Have you ever thought to yourself, “Is this all there is?”  

Day after day, working for what, exactly? I’d gotten to a point in my career where most people would say, I was successful. Always on the move, my to-do list was constant. And yet… that question hovered above my head, like a spiderweb just out of reach. I could almost see it, but I couldn’t quite capture it. And I ignored it whenever possible.

Until I couldn’t. 

The short version of the story is that on an ordinary day in 2018, I passed out at home after a massage. Ten minutes later, I woke up on the floor to discover, to my horror, that I was paralyzed. I literally couldn’t move. That was (and still is) the single scariest moment of my life. My brain had basically shut off communication to my body, but I was totally conscious and coherent.  

I completely panicked for about a minute, but then something strange happened: Something else took over. I was able to clear my head completely with utter clarity, as though I was floating. I let this thing, my spirit, lead the way. With a newfound sense of calm, I was able to listen to the silence around me. Within that silence, I saw hope and with that hope, came a lightning strike of sensation in my right glute.  I immediately started shimmying my body backward with all my energy.

Eventually, I was able to call 911. By then, I was physically exhausted yet relieved that help was on the way. I still remember the sirens. After a CT scan later that night, they told me, “You have a ton of lesions in your brain.”

It was like a movie, for real. I didn’t know what was happening. I got transferred to three different hospitals before I found a neurosurgeon who would touch me.  It was too risky.  Multiple hemangioblastoma brain tumors? This was NOT in my life plans. I had an emergency craniotomy (brain surgery), radiation and a 2nd brain surgery six months later. Amazingly, I survived.

***

They say that sometimes what you think is the ending, is actually the beginning.  Perspective is key. While I thought I was watching my own ending in real time, I was actually witnessing a new beginning, an evolution that was occurring behind the scenes, in the subconscious parts of myself. This was not in fact, the ending of my life; it was the beginning of my living.

You see, all that time I thought I was living, I was really just on auto-pilot, in survivor mode, staying busy because well, busy was good, right? That dark cloud I often sensed in the background, was haunting me for a reason, hoping I’d wake up and start living again.

I’ve learned that the subconscious mind is far ahead of any of our conscious thoughts. It’s like the wise sage that whispers to us. It is our essence, our spirit. Often, we brush it off like the wind, close off our bodies and minds whenever we feel the chill of something that seems foreign or uncomfortable to us. We want to feel safe so we protect ourselves from that which we fear most.  We ignore the questions our spirit poses and keep ourselves busy, like I did.  Learn to tap into those spiritual whispers. Don’t ignore them. There is wisdom there.  

With everything stripped away from me, I was no longer defined by my job, my body, my looks or my abilities (or lack thereof). It was scary at first, but ultimately, it has all brought me closer to my spirit, the essence of who I am. I thought back to childhood, an era when many of us are truer and closer to our spiritual selves than we may ever be. Who was I back then? What did I like to do? Then, I did those things. And it brought me joy. I watercolored badly. I watched bugs on the ground. I cried while hugging trees. I bought a hummingbird feeder. I colored. I did yoga. I became kinder to myself, more forgiving, more patient. Then, I found this kindness, compassion and patience extended to others. I had conversations with neighbors I’d never really spoken to before. And I really got to know them. I became more mindful in both my words and actions, out of necessity at first and then out of enjoyment in the process of slowing down.  

After coming home from brain surgeries, I had massive sensory overload. The world astounded me, its vibrancy, its energy. There were so many colors and shapes and movement and sights and smells and noise. There were birds and bugs and butterflies and planes just flying in the air. Had it always been like this? It had, but I had stopped paying attention.  

I’ve discovered that I came out on the other side of this as a better person, even happier in a weird way.  

Whatever it is that you’re going through, know you are not alone. Stop. Take a breath. Listen to the silence, your spirit. Happiness is not complicated.  Pure joy is there all the time – in the simplest of things. There is always light, even in the darkest of places. Let your spirit shine.  Allow it to become the strongest part of you. Someday, it may even save you. Like it did for me.

I believe in heaven and unicorns and fairies. I believe in the goodness of people. I believe our spirit lives long after we're gone. I believe we all make an impact on humanity and the soil upon which we walk. I believe in hope. Life is short; make yours count. I can tell you with absolute certainty, in the end there is only love...