Tag Archives: adversity

Roller Coaster Ride

So the first Friday in October came and went – yes, results day.

Before I get to my results, I would like to congratulate all those who passed the Connecticut bar exam.  Enjoy this time and your day being sworn-in as a member of the bar!

As for me?  The day did not go as I would have scripted it to.  I was supposed to be rejoicing and celebrating with you.  Yet, for reasons unknown at this point in time, my fight shall continue on.

Quite simply, yesterday’s results were inconclusive.  In comparison to my scans taken in March, what appeared on yesterday’s MRI was noted as something to watch. Last December, when I went in for the gamma knife surgery, the area where treatment was being applied was clearly visible and clearly tumor.  The growth was blasted with a high dose of radiation and at my follow-up MRI this past March, my surgeon gave me a thumbs up; all signs pointed to the conclusion that the procedure had killed off the tumor cells and any remaining cells would soon wither away.

Yesterday, I had the chance to see for myself the three images – the MRI from last December, the MRI from March and then the MRI from yesterday.  He placed all three of them on the screen for us to see.  March compared to December was significantly smaller and indicative that the treatment was working.  The scans from yesterday showed that the treatment site was still the same size as in March – but with one notable difference.  Brightness.

Brightness on an MRI is indicative of tumor activity.  But brightness can also indicate “radiation necrosis”.  Radiation necrosis is an accumulation of dead tissue and dead cells killed off by the radiation.  My medical team was going to review the results with the radiologist for his opinion.  Aside from that however, I’ll continue to monitor myself for headaches, dizziness, forgetfulness, eyesight problems, vomiting and nausea.  Yet, because of the location of where the tumor originally was, I do not experience any of these symptoms nor have I ever until the very last-minute in 2008 at which time the tumor was likely 3-6 years old.

So where do I go from here?  I’ll wait some more.  I am being rescanned in December and we’ll again review those results and develop a plan if needed.  If it is radiation necrosis, there would be nothing that I need to do.  However, if results indicate that this is tumor activity, further treatment and even surgery could be an option.

This is the story of my life it seems.   But I am resilient and a fighter.  I have never complained or felt sorry for myself and have always maintained a smile on my face through it all and I will continue to do so.  For the next two months, I will do my best to not obsess over this, but being human, that is easier said than done.  However, thanks to great family and my medical staff, I’m in good hands and will once again come out on top.  Maybe I’ll even have my own swearing-in ceremony as a member of a survivor/relentless fighter association!

The Waiting Is The Hardest Part

I had trouble falling asleep last night because I was thinking.  Yes, thinking about tomorrow’s test and results and thus I have decided to write about it.

For some, tomorrow is just another ordinary day.  Maybe you’re going to work or to school.  Maybe you’re going for a job interview.

Oh right.  Maybe you’re waiting for the Connecticut bar exam results to be released…

If you are, I understand the anxiety that you are feeling – I’m anxious for tomorrow too.  As I previously mentioned, three times since 2009, twice on the first Friday in October and once on the first Friday in May, I have experienced great angst.  To the hopeful bar applicants, tomorrow, I will similarly face angst with you.  As I discussed in past entries, I tried and tried and tried to pass the bar exam, all to no avail.  Bar exam results day has been the lowest point of my three times already.

If you took the exam, you’re likely wracking your brain to remember what you wrote on the essays or whether you correctly answered any of the MBE questions.  It’s an anxious feeling.  With this test, there are so many things depending upon the results and you have to wait three months for the results.  You will undoubtedly refresh the website multiple times eagerly awaiting to see that the results have been posted.  When you look, your heart will fall into your stomach and you can only hope that you see your name on the list.

Well, applicants, you’re not alone.

You see, tomorrow I will go in for a test and receive my results.  Right there and then.  However, for once, I’m boasting.  Unlike the myriad of emotions that bar applicants are likely currently experiencing, I am extremely confident that I will get good news at tomorrow’s six-month MRI.

Nevertheless, despite the news that tomorrow brings us all, we need to stay strong and remain confident in our abilities and who we are as people.  If you’re awaiting tomorrows results, keep in mind that you have come this far – you are on the precipice of accomplishing a great achievement and are hours away from working long and tireless hours.  As for me, I am hours away from taking another step toward putting my years of battling the monster in my head behind me.  So no matter what, rest assured that when that list of names is publicized tomorrow for the whole world to see, know that you will not see this:

Screen shot 2014-09-30 at 8.09.14 PM
An image of my brain taken June 27, 2008. The tumor filled the ventricular system and displaced the septum pellucidum, extended back toward the body of the lateral ventricle and was hemorrhagic.

Eager; nervous; excited; anxious.  Those four words best describe how I feel.  I’m sure you do too.  I am confident that tomorrow, we will quickly forget that we feel this way.  Until then, we can only wait though.  I look forward to seeing social media blow up with your exciting news.  I’ll be on social media tomorrow with my results, even if they are not what I hope for.

There is only one difference between you and me tomorrow.  If you pass, you will forever be done with tests.  Me?  I’ll be ecstatic, but it is still the early stages of lifelong test anxiety.

If I Had A $1,000,000

Let me just get this out there – having a brain tumor is life-changing. No, I don’t mean in terms of how I look at life now.  Rather, I am talking about the unintended consequences that we don’t think about when we are faced with this type of situation unless we are in it.

From what I’ve been told, recovery after brain surgery can vary from: having a quick and seamless recovery, to being in the fight of your life like I faced or you may never recover and remain in a diminished capacity.  And if that’s not enough to think about, the cost and toll of living as a brain tumor survivor can wear you down pretty easily.  Let’s talk about cost…

As kids, we are told that if we do well in school and pursue our dreams, we’ll make lots of money and live a happy life.  But what our teachers did not tell us as innocent students in elementary school is that sometimes, life throws us twists that come out of left field and blind side us – and leave us scrambling for solutions on how to solve them.  Growing up, I at least assumed that nothing could stop me if I did well in school and graduated college, let alone graduating law school.  After all, we work to make money to pay for all of life’s wants and needs.  Until you are admitted to the hospital, that is, and your money can no longer be spent on your wants.

When I returned home from a wonderful vacation in Nantucket two weeks ago, my wallet was thin.  Yet, it was well spent.  However, within the first few hours that I was home, the mailman delivered another bill for my MRI this past March that I currently pay on a payment plan and CVS called because my Keppra is ready to be picked up.  This leads me to my rant – the absurd costs of health care and health insurance.

For an MRI, my insurance company bills the hospital $4,900.  Yes, you read that correctly – approximately $5,000. I for one am extremely grateful that MRI machines exist.  But for the forty-five minutes, sometimes an hour, that I am in there, I find it hard to believe that that machine actually requires $4,900 to run, notwithstanding the plethora of MRI machines on site.  And I understand that the machine produces images but they are all viewable on a computer.

The next item on the bill: the cost billed by the technicians to read that MRI – $450.00.

Then there’s an associated cost for my doctor’s visit.  A measly $245.00.  For me, and I’d imagine others in my position, the doctor’s visit is the most important part of the entire process.  I get to hear progress from my own doctor’s mouth and view the images so that I can see the news for myself.

As for surgery, well I hope you’re sitting down because I don’t want to be the cause of any unintended fainting spells.  You’ll recall that I had gamma knife surgery last December.  The total amount billed from that one-day procedure alone was $92,000.  That’s for one day.  For my extended stay in July 2008 when I had the tumor removed and the surgery for the subdural hematoma, the hospital billed the insurance company $297,000.00.

Okay, so once the tumor was removed and my head was mended back together, I needed to rehab and did so at Gaylord Hospital.  For each day that I was there, our insurance was billed $2,600.00.  This was for my therapists, pens and paper, flash cards, alphabet charts, balancing beams and workout equipment.

The scary bottom line is this: If I didn’t have health insurance at the time, I would not be here because the procedure would not have been performed.  I am grateful for health insurance, however it continues to remain a problem for so many Americans today.

Fortunately, I am offered health insurance through my employer but for someone like me, even the insurance plan is costly.  For my co-pay to kick in this past year, I had to put up the first $4,000 of medical expenses.   When I called to make my payment on my account last week, I was informed that my “other” balance was going to be sent to collections soon if I did not pay the entire sum or apply to pay the balance on a payment plan.  After all said and done, this “other” balance was my procedure in 2012.  At the time my procedure was performed, I had not yet hit my deductible, so my portion of coverage was in excess of $2,000.  Add that to my 2013 balance and my total responsibility is $2,530.67.  Well, I guess my payment plan was just extended.

Some people go to work to provide for a family, pay their mortgage and have nice things.  What you cannot plan for is your health – you can only hope that you stay healthy each year.  If you don’t, not only will your personal world spin around, but your financial health will too.  Who is not going to try their best to afford to pay for their life?  And while I know hospitals are running businesses too, quite frankly, the extent of the costs seem somewhat criminal.

I Fought The Law But The Law Won

So today is July 2, 2014.  “Why is that significant?”, you ask?  Well, today marks six years since my first craniotomy to remove the tumor.  Not a day goes by where I don’t think about that day, or the endless possibilities that leave me asking “what if?”  The night before that operation, I prayed that that night would not be my final night on this earth.  But here I am – tougher than ever.  At first, the one-year, two-year marks were somber reminders of what I had gone through – the travesty and fright that my family and I were faced with.  But now, they are cause for a celebration, or a “Brainaversary” as I like to call it.  Last year, for my fifth-year Brainaversary, Ashley baked me a brain cake.  imageHopefully, I’ll have another one waiting for me at home today!  Regardless, I wish to thank my family, friends, medical team and support group from therapy and school for their tireless support in my battle.  Without you, I would never be here today.  To think how far I’ve come in six short years (but what has also felt like an eternity at moments) is astounding.

Without more, I can’t leave you hanging so I’m going to get back to the story.  After all, my intent in writing this blog is not to gain sympathy votes but rather to inspire and connect with other warriors out there.

Back on March 11th, I wrote about waiting.  Reverting back to 2011, I was in a waiting period for the bar exam results to be revealed.  I’m not sure what was worse – taking the bar or waiting for results.

The exam lived up to all of the hype.  “Grueling” is the word I would use to exemplify the entire process.

Nothing could have prepared me for the moment I walked into the room and was handed the exam booklet.  Prior to that though, I was taken into the room where I would spend the next 4.5 hours.  After booting up my laptop and waiting at the prompt screen to type in the word “Start” to bring me to the first blank sheet of paper for my response, I waited some more while further instructions were read. At least some states, including Connecticut, now allow examinees to complete the essay portion using exam software that you must download and pay a license for.  Ahh yes, more money.

The overwhelming feeling of sitting with the Bar Examiner who gave the instructions to applicants with disabilities made it all become real.  All examinees must sign an oath and are then escorted into their hotel room where you are instructed to start your laptop and log in to the software.  Finally, I was handed the first six essays.  I took a deep breath, collected myself and then focused my attention on the task at hand.  While applicants can begin with any number they want, I started with number one and away I went.  The first six questions were pretty much what I expected and though I could have written for days, I did not have the stamina or time to do so.  Before I knew it, time was up and I had completed the morning session of day one – 1/4 of the bar exam was complete.  Given that the break was only an hour, and at the advice of past applicants, I brought my lunch.  I was able to find a private, quiet seat outside where I ate – all while being completely exhausted and wondering how the hell I was going to go back in there and write for 4.5 more hours.  But I had to, and I did.  The six questions administered after lunch were even harder, but maybe that’s because I was drained from the energy expended on the first six and the work-up that I put into this day.  Nonetheless, the questions all called for responses that I knew, except for one but it’s okay, I made some stuff up and explained my reasons for what I was saying.  Before I knew it, time was called and day one was over.

Day two of the bar exam is known as the Multistate Bar Exam (the “MBE”).  You know…those really long multiple choice questions that I described in part one of this post.  After the morning session and 100 questions, I was mentally and physically exhausted.  I had no energy left.  On my lunch break, I wanted to just put my head down and take a nap. I was so close now though – I would fight hard until the end, just as I had done in getting to this point and putting myself in a position to be sitting at the desk taking the exam.  Yet, questions 101-200 were more of the same: oddly worded questions, many filled with old, ancient law that required you to have a brain like a sponge.  Thanks BarBri for the charts telling me that these types of questions were only tested a very small percentage of the time.

However, the clock continued to wind down and the 6:00 hour approached.  Finally, with a few seconds to spare, I had bubbled in my final marking on the scantron sheet.  Jubilation!  I had just completed the bar exam.  Where were all of the people who said that I would never return to law school, let alone graduate or sit for the bar?  What about the medical report that stated I should forget about going back to law school and was likely to remain at the capacity of a second-grader?  When I got home, I had a celebratory dinner with my family who was there for me every step of the way.  I had nothing else to do but to sit and wait for results.

In the months that followed, I replayed questions over in my head again and again.  Fortunately, I returned to work at law firm in Connecticut where I was keeping busy in the asbestos defense practice.

October 7, 2011 was a bright and sunny morning.  This was the day the Connecticut bar exam results were to be released.  In Connecticut, the committee simply posts on its website the names of those examinees who passed the exam and are recommended for admission to the bar.  So everyone and anyone can get onto a computer and look – not the fairest or best way for nervous examinees.  Nonetheless, I was confident this morning.  More than two months removed from taking it, I truly felt that I had passed and was about to burst into tears of joy.

After refreshing the page time and time again, the list of names appeared.  The names were presented in alphabetical order by the applicant’s last name.  Slowly, I scrolled though until I came to the C’s – there were lots of them.  I looked away from the screen, collected myself and then refocused my eyes on the screen.  I went one by one and low and behold, my name was not on the list.  I tried again and again, thinking perhaps I overlooked it in anticipation of the excitement.  But reality set in and my name was not on the list.

As a result of working for a law firm and all the attorneys having gone through the process, they knew that the results were also posted.  Before I even had the time to process what had happened, I received email after email offering condolences.  I needed to talk to my family; to Ashley – I could not handle the moment.  Within minutes, I received an email from the office administrator offering me the rest of the day off if I wished to leave and be with my support group at home.

The feeling of defeat stung for a little while.  But I had overcome so much that I knew I would be back to try again.  When I received my actual results from the Bar Examining Committee, I saw the score that I earned and the score needed to pass.  Without revealing the number, I knew I had to go for it again; I’d be a fool not to.

In the ensuing months, I geared up for the February 2012 exam and worked with a tutor to master the methods to take the exam.  One of the things that I learned from my score is that it was not a lack of knowing the information, but rather, there exists a defect in my ability to communicate my mastery of the subjects in my brain into the multiple choice answers that were provided after each question.  I’ll tell you this much – my essay scores were well above-average.  Given ample time and opportunity to explain my reasoning and analysis in reaching a conclusion, I have no trouble.  But when I am presented with a long and complex problem with four possible answers, all of which could arguably be correct, I have trouble.  I worked tirelessly to master the technique of reading and analyzing within the strict time constraints presented on the bar exam.

Now, for those unfamiliar with the process, only your scores on the multistate bar examination can be used on subsequent examinations but your essay scores cannot.  So my strong essay scores would go to waste.  I had no choice but to study and prepare for the entire exam again.  I took a leave of absence from work and locked myself in a room and library for the winter months.  The tutor provided me with some suggestions on how to approach the questions and additional tips to narrow the possible answer choices down to two.  From there though, it was a matter of processing the right answers from the wrong answers.  The bar exam does not test how smart you are.  Rather, it is a test of endurance to see if you can arrive at the “best” legal conclusion to a problem in a short period of time.  After two days and six hours, you will have handled two-hundred-and-twelve legal matters and counseled that many clients.

When time was called for the final time, I felt once again that I had done it.  Fast-forwarding to May 11th – results day.  Like a nervous wreck, I checked and checked the website until the list had been published.  I looked for my name, but again, my name did not appear. Upon seeing my results, I was astounded to find that my multiple-choice score had improved but my essay scores had dipped.  Go figure.  As a result, I was right where I was the first time.  There was no fluctuation in my score.

Well, the old saying is that the third time is the charm so I decided to try again.  I took some time off in between administrations of the exam to give myself a mental break and gear up for the studying and preparation.  I also had to find a way to pay for my life so I waited until July 2013 to retake the exam.  In addition to the financial situation, I figured that some time would be the best thing for me.  I still had all of my books to prepare and after much research and reviews, I opted to purchase flash cards to help me ingrain the material in my brain to allow me to quickly recall and spit out the material when I was presented with a problem on the exam.  After another leave of absence from work and countless hours of my life devoted to studying, the two days arrived.  I was again escorted into my private room where I would spend the next two days killing the rest of my good brain cells to pass the test.  But in what felt like a snap of the fingers, it was over and I was on my way home.

At the time that I registered to take the exam, I did not think to look when the bar exam results were going to be posted.  Yes, they actually tell you the dates the results will be released for the next three years that the bar exam is administered.  So I tell you this because on October 4, 2013, bar exam results were released – and I was on my honeymoon in Italy.  I dreaded the moment, but had to look – after all, I told Ashley that if I passed, I’d buy her a Louis Vuitton.  Plus, I just had a feeling that my luck was about to turn.  I had been through hell the past five years but had just married the girl that I loved and was with her eating everything in sight and drinking the best wine on earth.  So despite the data plan that I was paying for, I did it all through my phone.  And when I checked, I felt the same semblance of defeat I had grown accustomed to.  My name was not on the list.

For some who have been down this road, all hope might be lost.  But for me, I have so much to live for and strive for.  At the current time, I have decided to hold off on retaking the exam as my scores have not improved and at the recent advice of my surgeon who looked me in the eyes and said: “Chris – you will never be measured by your performance on an exam, but rather your testament in overcoming the odds to live and the only advice I can give you is to follow your heart.  You will succeed in whatever it is you want to do.”

That was all that I needed to hear.  I knew in my heart that right now, passing the exam was not meant to be, for reasons outside of my control.

The law may have won this time.  But at the end of the day, I’m alive and well.  I have my whole life to live and an exam cannot and will not define me.

I Won’t Back Down

For my readers who have a brain tumor or had a brain tumor, you will agree – life is that much more difficult for us.  And when you pile on preparing for the bar exam and the expectations to pass it, life becomes arduous.

To sit for the Connecticut bar exam, all applicants must pay a filing fee of $750.00.  The application consists of approximately 30 pages of questions and requirements such as listing every residence you held for more than thirty days, both temporary or permanent, since your eighteenth birthday or for the past ten years, whichever is shorter.  Oh, and in chronological order.  The application also requires an applicant’s employment history, again both temporary and permanent and in chronological order.  You will also need affidavits, letters of reference, a certified driving history, a copy of your law school application, verification of your law degree and a Certificate from the law school Dean which states that you entered law school on such and such a date and earned your degree on such and such a date.  And a contract to give up your firstborn child…not really, but might as well.

The exam is administered over two days, each day being 6 hours long.  Testing accommodations (special test-taking exceptions for applicants with qualified disabilities) are available, but any applicant who wishes to avail themselves of these must complete a further application and have his/her doctor complete paperwork and submit all supporting materials to prove the accommodations are necessary.

When I applied to take the ethics exam (a separate test you must pass before you can even apply for the bar exam), I applied for testing accommodations but received a letter which stated, in relevant part: “Your request for testing accommodations is denied because the documentation provided for review does not contain all of the essential elements…Your documentation does not contain any scores from relevant cognitive or achievement batteries to indicate a current substantial limitation to a major life activity.”

Seriously?!  My surgical reports which stated that I had a large tumor resected from my brain, along with having a device inserted allowing me to function on a day-to-day basis doesn’t constitute a “current substantial limitation to a major life activity”?

Not to fret though, my doctors and I would just send in additional records, along with past and current images of my MRIs.  In addition, we provided the results of the neuropsychogical tests accompanied with a letter providing an update on my diagnosis, changes since that test, current treatment (which would be the shunt and anti-seizure medicine) and rationale for providing me with extra time and a private testing room.  We submitted everything imaginable and I was notified that my request had been granted.  The bar exam application required the same documentation which meant that I had to resubmit all the same documents.

If you’re an applicant with a disability applying for admission to the bar, the first step for you is to apply for accommodations.  Applicants with a disability are entitled to apply for whatever accommodation that you “the applicant” deem necessary to provide you an equal opportunity to pass as the applicant next to you.

The bar exam, at least in Connecticut, begins both days at 9:00 a.m. and ends at 4:00 with an hour for lunch.  Ask most applicants and they will tell you they felt pressed for time.  After my tumor was removed, I was not the same person and 6 hours was not going be nearly enough time to complete the exam.  Completing certain tasks now took me a lot longer as the information did not process as quickly as it had previously; or, like my final exam, I’d read a problem and understand it in my head but then end up writing ten pages or garble.  So, what was I to apply for?

To start, I knew for sure that I would need extra time, that was a given.  And in talking with the bar examiner, if my request for extra time was granted, I would start earlier than the other examinees and end later in the day, but with one one-hour break for lunch only.  So I would need something to eat in the exam room.  And to drink.  So I requested both of these as well.  Additionally, I requested a private testing room to avoid being distracted by the hundreds of other examiners in the room.  After the tumor resection, my ability to maintain my focus had diminished and my thoughts turn to mush.  In order to receive any accommodation, my doctors had to complete paperwork that explained how “what” I was applying for would assist me in passing the exam.  You said it, it was a headache.

Not more than a month after everything had been submitted, I received a piece of mail from the bar examining committee notifying me that my request had been reviewed and granted.  My schedule was 8:30-1:00 and then 2:00-6:30.   I was permitted a private testing room, the extra time and a “quiet snack” (whatever that is).  A drink was permitted, but it MUST be put into a clear bottle so that the examiners can inspect it.

So, how does one prepare for the bar exam, you ask?  Well, before explaining the methods and strategies that some utilize, let me first tell you about the exam.  In Connecticut, the first day now consists of six essays and two multi-state performance test questions.  The times that I have taken it, it was 12 essays on various topics.  The bar examiners provide a listing of possible subjects from which they can draw questions.  I think there were 18 total subjects.  How nice.

Day two consists of two-hundred multiple choice questions, all drawn from 6 subject matters – you have three hours to complete 100 questions in the morning and then three hours to complete 100 questions in the afternoon.  These are not your run-of-the-mill multiple choice questions.  photo 2Rather, each question is a complex problem which requires you to sort through the facts, analyze everything and select the “best” answer.  Note that I wrote “best.”  On the bar exam, there is no “right” answer; rather, they want you to choose the “best” answer and when there are four options to choose from, you can pretty much make a sound argument that any one of the four is the best answer.

Now, for just $3,250.00, you can register for BarBri, a two-month bar review class designed to assist applicants in passing the exam.  Upon registering, a nice present will be delivered to your address – two boxes filled with books.  photo 1In the BarBri course, you attend classes in a lecture hall and fill in outlines in a book designed by course instructors.  But there’s a twist – the lectures have all been pre-recorded and are shown on a video.  If you have a question about any of the material, I’m sorry but you’ll have to email your question in and wait days for a response.  While there is no requirement to taking the course, you put yourself a pretty high disadvantage if you don’t because almost everyone else takes it.  And the books are chock-full of released questions.

The video begins roughly around 9:30 every day and ends around 1:00-1:30.  You then have about an hour to get home and eat lunch before you begin reviewing and analyzing the lecture outlines from that day.  The advice given is to outline your outlines to absorb the material.  Once that is complete, there are problem sets from the books pictured above to work through and complete.  The problem sets can take hours.  It’s a lot of work to get through 18 multiple choice questions as they are long and tedious and the only way to learn the legal concept is to answer the question and review the answers, specifically why the wrong answer is in fact wrong.

The best way to sum up taking the bar exam is exhausting.  A month into studying, you find yourself asking what have I learned the past month and how can I possibly remember all of this?  Don’t worry – you’re told on day one of bar review class that you won’t remember everything so don’t bother trying.  Wait, what??

Hazing.  Survival of the fittest.  I apologize in advance to the readers who are currently preparing for the exam next month – I have faith in you.

As for me?  I wasn’t nearly the fittest of the fit.  Two years removed from having surgery, my brain was still not what it used to be.  And I knew that it may never be.  I had studied all that I possibly could; done as many practice questions and practice exams as humanly possible.  I was mentally and physically exhausted.  As the exam approached, I feared for my life.  I feared that I would cause myself to have another seizure from the unnecessary stress of taking the exam, or yet, that the shunt would malfunction due to the stress I was putting on myself in trying to cram mounds of information into my brain.

No stopping me now though –  the moment had arrived – July 26-27, 2011.

 

Good Riddance

With a few more grades that raised my eyebrows, I shrugged it all off and went full steam ahead to the finish line – graduation day (sort of). While I would walk with my friends at graduation, I had to make up the one semester that I missed to recover (It’s still pretty remarkable to me that it was “only” one semester).   The old adage is that 1L they scare you to death (hmm, maybe this all makes sense now?), 2L they work you to death and 3L they bore you to death.  As the end of the third-year neared, all of my friends were in full-blown frenzy with the wretched bar exam quickly approaching.  For me, it was one of the happier times of my life.

It was a  bittersweet day.  Law school represented, and still represents, the most tumultuous period of my life.  Those three years brought out the best and worst of me, but graduation day meant it was time to say goodbye to so many good friends and the state that I had called home for three years.  I was on the verge of the sweetest victory I could have scripted – earning my juris doctor degree.  If you were to ask pretty much anyone on July 2, 2008 if I would ever finish my degree, you would find that the majority would say “no”.  But not me.

All that stood in the way of me and that moment was one semester at Quinnipiac University School of Law.  Why didn’t I continue at Roger Williams, you ask?  Simply put, I realized that all of my peers that I had entered this chapter of my life with would be leaving after we walk across the stage and would be returning to their respective homes to begin their careers.  Back to Massachusetts…back to Arizona…back to New York….back to Connecticut.  Everyone was scattering and what was I to do there without my support group?  I needed someone to be there for me, who knew my struggles in the classroom as well as my medical history to guide me through the last semester and so  I opted to complete my final semester as a visiting student at Quinnipiac University.

Quinnipiac is set out over acres of beautiful land with Sleeping Giant State Park in the backdrop.  On the flip side though, how was I to cope with not watching the morning fog roll through the Mt. Hope Bridge or hearing the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks?  I’d manage – at least I had my mom’s home cooked meals again to get me through.  In retrospect, my final semester at Quinnipiac was everything that I could have hoped for.  The professors were wonderful and understanding to my personal situation and the time went quickly – very quickly.  Before I could even blink, it was November 1st and talk about final exams began or presenting our final paper, which in essence, we short novels full of legal jargon.  To top it all off, the bar exam began to play on my mind and I asked myself “how” I was going to get through the remainder of the semester and through all of the adversity that awaited me.  But on that same day, I received this email…

Email

Now talk about support.  This email is just a sample of the support that I provided by my family and friends throughout law school and during my illness.  This was all the motivation that I would need to carry me through to the end.  Once again, my parents were right there to pick me up and provide me the encouragement that I needed to dig deep within and find the will to get through the semester.  I know I sound like a broken record, but without the support of my family, especially my parents, none of this would be possible and I would be unable to write this blog.

As I typed the final “ . ” of my last final exam, I was overcome with joy.

Sweet victory, I had accomplished the unimaginable.  GraduationAfter all of the trauma my brain had overcome and the adversity I faced, I was finished.  There were no words to express the sense of pride and accomplishment that I felt at that moment.

What came next was trying to figure how to pass the bar exam – but how?  There was no holding me back now though.  I had worked so hard and had come so far.  But being human, I think and wonder what I would have done with my life had I been diagnosed prior to enrolling in law school.  But what’s in the past is in the past.  I dismissed the fact that exams were now even more difficult for me than they had been previously.  After forking over nearly a thousand dollars just take the bar exam, in addition to thousands to take a prep course, I was on my way once again.  Or wasn’t I?  I’ll save the topic of the bar exam for another day.

For now, I celebrated my accomplishments.  Graduating law school…I was on cloud nine.  I was having the “time of my life.”

Celebrate We Will Because Life Is Short But Sweet for Certain

So you didn’t get that job that you applied for?  Or maybe you got a C as opposed to B in that class?  Did you stay at the office late today, and yet still have piles of work to get through?  Your car’s broken down…again.  Sure these are all legitimate problems and life sure is full of them.   What matters is how we deal with them and how we come out on the other side.

Coming home in May, not even a year removed from receiving my diagnosis, I had a new outlook on life.  My first semester back at law school was eye opening.  Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to do well and maintain my class ranking, but I also refused to push myself too hard and kill myself over schoolwork.  During my hospital stay, my medical team constantly reminded me that I would never be measured by my classroom or courtroom experience.  No matter what happened after my hospital stay, I would always be defined by my determination and perseverance in overcoming obstacle after obstacle.

During the ensuing months following my surgeries, I was a spectator to life.  I viewed everyday occurrences with an open mind.  No longer did I stress about getting an A.  Did I want to?  Of course (I am Type A, after all); but I knew that if I attended class throughout the semester, analyzed the readings, studied and completed practice exams, I had done all that I could do and whatever grade I earned at the end was okay with me.

From day one of the first year, the focus is finding a job and earning exorbitant amounts of money.  Now, let me clear this up for you right now – that’s a fallacy.  Unless you finish in the top 25% of the class, you bounce around from job to job or maybe even through temp agencies and in real life, never make those millions you imagined were possible.  After my performance first year, I didn’t even concern myself with making it into the top quarter of the class, but even if I did, I’d be crazy to push myself that hard.  Life is far too short and fragile to let one insignificant thing in the grand scheme of things consume you.  I watched countless friends obsessively agonize over outlining and analyzing cases and statutes to earn the grade they were striving for.

The same holds true in practice.  I am simply amazed by how many of my peers stress over getting the hours in or getting their motion heard on the court calendar.  I just watch in amazement and think to myself “what if?”  When I witness such events, it takes every ounce of energy out of me to not say something, but I understand it – we all work hard and want good results for efforts.  If you work for a law firm, you have billing requirements that you must meet by years end, and after all, we need to keep our jobs to put food on the table.  But at what cost? It makes me wonder why as a society, we have created all of these human manufactured stressors.

I don’t mean to diminish your worries.  They are real and legitimate.  At the same time, I urge you to never stop focusing on the big picture and seeing what is truly important.  It seems to me that we too often take for granted what we have and lose sight of what really matters because we are too busy focused on nonsense.  Ever since I’ve recovered, I’ve felt like my life is moving in fast motion.  I have since learned to make sure I then take a deep breath and calmly approach the situation when I find myself getting stressed or frustrated.  My persona has changed immensely and I know this is a blessing in disguise.  Gone are the days where I rushed around, driving myself nuts to get everything accomplished by some arbitrary deadline.  I got my second chance, and I refuse to waste it by missing out on life’s joys.

For me, when real trouble arose, the question was not “do you want to have brain surgery?”  There was no option or decision to make – it was  “Chris, you need to have brain surgery.”  Not once, not twice…but four times, in addition to one gamma knife surgery.  I had brain surgery...This was my life and the cards that I was dealt and I coped with it all.  Like other situations, it’s not ideal, but unlike any of the scenarios in the first paragraph, this is a REAL problem and there’s no time to think about it or mull over your decision.  Instead, you have to rise to the occasion and learn to grow from it.  My obstacles have aged me years beyond my date of birth and I no longer stress over situations like those I mentioned here.  I’m the first to admit it – prior to my surgery, I focused on school and finding a job.  However, after my diagnosis, I realized that the important things in life are those that we have in front of us – family, friends and health.  With those three things in hand, the goals are infinite and life is good.  Yet, I still find reasons to throw on this t-shirt…

How to Save a Life

In our lives, we all have someone that we can rely on to lift our spirits and make us smile.  In the summer of 2008, I realized how lucky I was to have more than someone – I had an entire army of support and caregivers.  So without more, I dedicate this post to my guardian angels.

Dr. Piepmeier, Director of Neuro-Oncology, Yale New Haven Hospital – I do not even know where to begin to thank you and tell you what you mean to me.  From the moment you stepped into the consultation room and we met for the first time, I knew you were going to get the job done.  Your professionalism and courtesy to my family and I during such a tumultuous summer is never forgotten.  I often think of what it would have been like had another surgeon handled my case; fortunately, I never need to think about that.  My family can attest to the fact that, upon receiving the diagnosis, I was scared of the unknown, but after meeting you and hearing the plan of action prior to the procedure, I was at peace and prepared for battle.   Then and now, you provide me with a reassuring sense of confidence that I could not give myself.

Betsey, Clinical Care Coordinator, Department of Neuro-Oncology – When I received my diagnosis and spoke with you for the first time, you had a calming effect on me. I instantly knew that, as bad as the diagnosis was, the team of doctors who were assigned to my case were going to get me through this and back on my feet and doing all that I planned to do in this life.  I feel so fortunate to be able to rely on you as my go-to person to have questions answered.  But more importantly, you provided me the hope that I needed to assure me that things would get better and to keep the faith.  Your smile and positive outlook has had a profound effect on me and for that, I am forever grateful.

Aunt Linda – Thank you. You have truly played such an important role in getting me back to the point where I am at now in my life. Your patience and grace in working with me never goes forgotten. As a 24 year old, trying to re-establish the connection between what I saw and was thinking and trying to verbalize those thoughts was demoralizing.  As you were showing me those flash cards, you never lost the patience and willingness to continue to work with me even as I struggled.  Your emails made me smile and your cards with words of wisdom resonate.  You are a wonderful person and I feel extremely fortunate to have you a part of my family.

Dr. Quagliarello (Dr. Q), MD – Not only are you a great family friend, a father of one of my great friends I met in elementary school and baseball coach of Famous Foods, but you have been a great source of support, care and guidance.  I often flash back to the day I was admitted to the hospital after receiving the diagnosis…knowing my mom called Joyce, who in turn contacted you and you rushed down to the room where I was waiting to see the doctors just so that you could be there with my parents and I.  You were able to provide comfort to me in a time that I needed it the most, but I know that for my parents, you provided them with a sense of hope that I was in good hands at Yale and with Dr. P.  Thank you for always checking in on me during daily visits to Yale and the house, as well as providing support to my family during a tough time.

Ellen, Speech Pathologist at Gaylord Hospital – When we first met, I was in complete disbelief that my life had taken such a drastic turn that I was in need of speech and cognitive therapy but I am happy to have been referred to you.  The alphabet board; the flash cards; the exercises to restore my strength – what was I to do with those, I wondered?  You laid out a plan for me, never grew tired of watching me struggle and never lost faith in my ability – you knew I was in there somewhere and kept prodding and encouraging me to keep trying and practicing.  Sure enough, I did it and I owe a great deal of my recovery to you.  Thank you.

To all the nurses who kept guarded watch of me in the NICU: though I do not remember you by name, I know each and everyone of you cared greatly about me during that summer and I owe a great deal of gratitude to you.

Last but not least – to my tremendously supportive family.  Where would I be without your love, support, faith and comedic relief.  I was but a shell of the person I am today and I owe it all to you – you never gave up on me and continually encouraged me to strive to get better and persevere.

Somewhere Over The Rainbow

As part of my ongoing quest for positivity, I never stopped believing my life would resume where it had left off prior to my diagnosis.  Even though it was now late August and my peers were in week two of classes, I was determined to get back there with them.  But not only was I determined, I whole-heartedly believed that I would be back at some point to resume my law school career.  For those who know me, this belief, or what some may call “stubbornness”, should come as no surprise as I have always been persistent and one to argue a point even when I know I am wrong.

At my request, a meeting was set up with my parents, the Assistant Dean of the law school and I.  The purpose of the meeting was to inform the dean of my progress and basically let her know how I was doing.  All along, I fully and firmly believed that law school was still a possibility for me and that after I can make some progress, I would be back.  Not so fast.  I walked into a conference room and was unable to say a word when she was talking to me.  “Maybe it is just nerves and I need to relax?” I thought to myself.  Nope.  The entire meeting was full of confused and muttered responses…as well as no responses at all.  On top of my cognitive deficits, the nerves and anxiety of my surroundings left me completely unable to make a positive impact and prove that I had what it took to make a recovery and return to school in pursuit of my dream.

Suffice it to say that it did not take long for the dean to ask to speak to my parents in private for a moment.  I did not have the mental capacity to even process what they could have been speaking about, but I knew that it had the potential to be bad… and it was.  When they came back into the room, the dean broke the news to me that I never expected to hear: based on my deficits and lack of progress, my pursuit of earning my juris doctorate degree was officially over and that I should return home to live a comfortable life.

I wanted to jump up on the table and rattle off the elements of negligence and go into a long-winded spiel reciting my oral argument I gave three months earlier.  I couldn’t though and I watched as my parents’ faces had turned from pessimistically optimistic to completely hopeless and sad.  All that I had worked so hard for over the years was gone – the tumor had robbed me of everything.  The two-hour ride from Rhode Island back to Connecticut was full of tears and sorrow by all of us.

It was déjà vu all over again…

After graduating cum laude from The University of Connecticut in 2006, I sat for the LSAT and applied to five schools.  After rejections to four schools and being waitlisted by UConn for the entire summer before learning on the day classes were to begin that I had been rejected, I felt completely helpless.  One of the schools I applied to was Roger Williams University.  Prior to receiving an acceptance or rejection from the school, I was being inundated with mail from the school regarding financial aid, the pro bono work done there and letters from the Office of Career Development.  Given my low LSAT score, acceptance was a long shot but all of the mail left with an ounce of hope.  The Assistant Dean of Admissions invited me to come up and see the campus, go in for a tour and meet with the career development office and you better believe that I accepted it.  With my mother, the two of us made the drive up to Rhode Island.  On a good day, the drive is about two hours but on that particular day, due to the pouring rain and wind, the drive turned into three.  Figures.   Pachaug Trail - "Welcome to Rhode Island sign" at Beach Pond, Hope Valley, RI

During my meeting with admissions, the dean wanted to discuss my low LSAT score along with my high grades at UConn.  “How do I describe the disparity” he wanted to know.   I couldn’t.  Well, the answer was buried in my brain but nobody knew at that point nor were there any reasons to inquire.  On the drive home, my mother and I both recapped the meeting and tried to find any positives to take home with us, but there were none….except that the rain had stopped and over the highway, a full rainbow had developed.  My mother took this as a sign that though things had not been working out for me, that rainbow was certainly an omen of good things to come.

Unfortunately, a short while later that summer, I received a small envelope from the school and inside was a letter from the Assistant Dean of Admissions notifying me that I had not been accepted for that year but encouraging me not to give up hope.  Well fortunately for me, I did not give up hope and remained determined to master the LSATs.  I spent the year working for a law firm in a variety of roles and then went full-steam ahead with an LSAT preparation course.  My hard work had paid off and I improved my score immensely.  I reapplied to all five of the schools, but the moment I received my acceptance from Roger Williams University, I notified them of my acceptance and could not have been happier.

Back to the present day, here I was, back in the car heading home after a horrible meeting at Roger Williams.  But life is funny like that.  I believe that everything happens for a reason, both good and bad, and while that reason may not be apparent at the current moment, it will become evident at some point in time.  For me, the reason I did not get accepted after meeting with the school on that rainy day and the long drive with my mom was that my acceptance a year later allowed me to enroll with Ashley and find my counterpart…the one who lived this battle with me moment I left her that voicemail notifying her of my diagnosis.

So what’s my point, It’s that you cannot give up.  Keep going, keep searching and keep fighting.  Through it all, you will find your rainbow.