I had a headache for days. But this wasn’t an ordinary headache. My head was exploding, like a bomb about to detonate.
I can take care of this.
I tried heat. Extra strength pain relievers. Massage.
Finally, I went to the emergency room. They took a blood test, suspecting carbon monoxide poisoning. It came back negative and they sent me home.
I was so tired, falling asleep during the day. I guess you get tired more often when you’re older. I wasn’t thinking clearly. It didn’t occur to me I wasn’t this tired a few weeks ago. That something could be wrong.
The week before I flew to Florida to give a presentation. I participated in a Health and Wellness Expo and attended a concert at the Kennedy Center. I met my family for brunch and made a casserole for my kids. I kept going. I don’t have time for this.
Finally the pain was too much. I went back to the emergency room two days after my first visit. Something was wrong. But what?
This time, the nurse said they’d do a CT scan.
“Why bother with a CT?” I asked. “It’s just a headache.”
When the nurse returned, she said they were calling a neurosurgeon.
“You have a subdural hematoma,” she said. “Bleeding on the brain,” she added.
The swelling was bad. My brain was pushed to the side by one and a half centimeters.
You know how they talk about that moment when time stands still? Well, this was one of those moments. In fact, time did stand still. I woke up in the ICU six days later with no recollection of what happened.
I found out that in the past six days I’d had two brain surgeries. And I was still bleeding. A third surgery was being considered.
Usually, a subdural hematoma is caused by a fall. But I hadn’t fallen.
My work is intense. It’s not your average job. As a psychic/medium, I use my brain and my mind to connect to other dimensions.
I’m not sure how it works, but I know it does. I’m able to retrieve information for clients I’ve never met and know nothing about. Information about relatives, jobs, health and relationships. I’m able to connect to loved ones who’ve passed, who show me detailed information about their lives, their meaningful relationships. Even their favorite hobbies.
I use lots of different skills- most of which are hard to prove. In fact, science says that what I do is impossible.
Some say it’s hocus-pocus. Others say it’s cray-cray.
For me, receiving this information is like how most people see or breathe. It’s like having another sense. It scared and confused me when it first started happening, but now, I don’t even question it. I’m used to it. In fact, I even consider myself normal, which just shows how far I’ve come.
But now, lying in the hospital bed in the ICU, drains spewing out of my head, I had to ask myself.
Did I do this to myself? Had I somehow blown a fuse? Was this subdural hematoma precipitated by my work?
Since I have this developed consciousness, was I more susceptible?
When I asked my neurosurgeons, to their great credit, they didn’t poo-poo the idea. They said it was puzzling. That they hadn’t seen this before.
Was this a message from the universe? And if so, what was the message?
In my effort to understand what happened, I spoke to some of my friends. What did they think? Was it possible I had caused this? Had I somehow given myself a subdural hematoma? And what were the consequences if I had?
One friend suggested this was an initiation, some type of rite to bring me to another level of connectivity. Others suggested that because I read for so many near-death experiencers, I was somehow trying to have one myself. That seemed improbable. I may be a psychic, but I’m not crazy.
One said that since I was so ‘brainy,’ it was a sign. It must be tied to the fact that I was bright. It definitely felt karmic, she said.
When I posed this same question to medical professionals, including two neurosurgeons, the answer was pretty much the same.
“This will probably enhance your abilities,” they said. (There actually is a precedent for trauma increasing psychic ability.)
Modern surgical techniques for treating a subdural hematoma include drilling holes, called Burr holes, in the skull. Burr holes relieve inter-cranial pressure which cause damage by pushing on brain tissue. I discovered that following my operations I too now have Burr holes.
The practice of drilling holes in the cranium, trepanation, dates back thousands of years and was used on shamans and priests as part of mystical rituals. In fact, this technique was used on those considered the most connected to the supernatural world. The thinking was that drill holes would open up pathways and result in an encounter with the spirits.
Would this be a door to enlightenment for me too?
I felt a shiver race down my spine.
There seem to be a lot of coincidences here. The trepanation. The lack of explanation for the injury. My miraculous recovery, which confused people in the ICU.
Maybe too many?
Were these merely coincidences? Or something else?
Was this predestined?
I’m a psychic. I’m supposed to have all the answers. But in this case, the answers were illusive.
Or as my doctors say, “That’s a good question.”