through the night

But I did make it through the night and early in the morning the neurosurgeon decided to

operate. However, he quickly informed my family and Sharon that my chances of surviving the

surgery were only 40/60. If this were not bad enough, the neurosurgeon further shocked my

family by telling them what life would be like for me if I beat the odds and survived. He

said I probably would never walk, talk, or be able to understand even simple commands.

My family was hoping and praying to hear even the slightest bit of encouragement from that

doctor. Instead, his pessimistic words gave my family no reason to believe that I would ever

again be a productive member of society. But once again I beat the odds and survived the

three and a half hours of surgery.

Granted, I still could not talk, my entire right side was paralyzed and many people thought

I could not understand, but at least I was stable. After one week in a private room the

doctors felt I had improved enough to be transferred by jet ambulance to Del Oro

Rehabilitation Hospital in Houston.