A Life Update: My Journey Through Laser Eyes, Brain Bloopers, and a New Perspective.
Dear Good Bean Coffee Community,
I’ve missed you all, and you may have noticed my recent absence. No blog posts, no new designs, no caffeine fueled fun. I’ve been on a bit of an unplanned medical adventure, and I wanted to share what’s been happening, and more importantly, how it’s shifted my perspective.
It all started with what was supposed to be a straightforward fix—just a little laser surgery for a retinal tear. Easy peasy, right? But because I like to keep things interesting, that tear decided to up the ante and partially detach itself, leading to a reattachment surgery. Thankfully, that went smoothly. I thought I was on the road to recovery, but life had other plans.
Two days post-surgery, I got hit with a headache that felt like a freight train had parked itself in my skull. It came out of nowhere and literally brought me to my knees. This wasn’t your run-of-the-mill headache; it was the kind that makes you question your life choices. I basically sat in the dark, not functioning. After a week of trying to grind it out (because, of course, I thought it was no big deal and might just go away), we headed to the ER.
A CT scan quickly revealed I wasn’t dealing with just a headache. It turns out I had a massive brain hemorrhage and a stroke. Yep, why settle for a single shot when you can order a triple espresso?
So, off I went to the Vanderbilt Neurological ICU for what I can only describe as the least fun birthday week ever. (But, I did get a birthday cupcake from the great Vandy ICU nurses!)
Now, here’s where the story starts brewing for the better. After countless tests, including an angiogram of my brain, the doctors found no structural damage and no aneurysm, which was a huge relief. The mystery remains as to why the hemorrhage happened in the first place, but the good news is that it has self-healed, and the chances of a repeat performance are very low. As the blood reabsorbed, my headaches became less intense, and I began to feel more like myself.
The doctors mentioned that only about 30% of people survive something like this. Let me tell you, hearing that will give you a whole new outlook on life.
Suddenly, the little things that used to bother me seem laughably insignificant. I mean, who cares if your coffee isn’t the exact shade of caramel you were aiming for? At least you’re alive to sip it!
This whole experience has taught me that life is incredibly fragile, and every day is a gift. I’ve come to realize how important it is to cherish the moments we often take for granted—like a quiet morning coffee, a good conversation, or just the fact that you can walk around without your brain throwing a fit.
For those of you who knew what was happening, I can’t thank you enough for your support and prayers. Seriously, I felt them lifting me up when I was down.
And to my incredible wife, Michelle—words can’t express how grateful I am for everything you’ve done. You’ve been my caretaker, cheerleader, and all-around superhero through this whole ordeal.
I’m still on the road to recovery, taking it one step at a time, but I’m so thankful to be here and to have such amazing friends, family and community behind me. I’m looking forward to getting back to the coffee scene, sharing laughs, and appreciating every single sip of coffee.
Take it from me, every moment matters.
Thank you for being there for me, and I can’t wait to catch up with everyone soon.
Bye for now …With a new caffeinated lease on life and a whole lot of gratitude,
Take care, and stay caffeinated.
Tim