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The Silent Patient

I was in my thirties when I attended nursing school, and I took the year-long crash course to get it over with as a LPN (licensed practical nurse). I was blessed to be able to cram the crash course in a year. I was particularly nervous when I had to take the state board exam to determine my becoming a nurse. After studying so hard for a complete year, I wasn’t sure if I would pass the state board exam. But I did pass the test, and I was so thankful to Jesus for this, for allowing me to pass the first time I took the exam.
Prior to me going to nursing school and during nursing school, people and some family members were telling me that studying to be a nurse was not going to be easy and that it was going to be hard. There were even statements that I wouldn’t graduate, also gossip that I would drop out. I stayed away from those type of people with negativity and waiting for my failure. Readers, remember, the only thing that beats a failure is a trier, and as long as one tries, then you’re not a failure because at least you tried.
After retiring as a nurse, an 8-mm aneurysm was discovered in my brain. I died during brain surgery, and now I know there is life after death. Even though I wanted to stay in the arms of God and not return to my body, He sent me back anyway ’cause it wasn’t my time yet. I will never forget the wonderful experience being with the Lord. That’s why I wanted to stay because of the joy and happiness. I titled this book The Silent Patient ’cause when my spirit returned back into my body—I was in a coma for a week—I was told that I couldn’t speak, but I could hear my visitors and could hear the health care staff. I just couldn’t speak or respond. I had to fight all my life, and now I had to fight to come out of a coma. I’ve been diagnosed with another brain aneurysm, but life goes on and live it to its fullest.

Addendum to The Silent Patient: Roger and I didn’t sleep in the same bedroom the last two years of our marriage, which was my decision because he disgusted me. I had grown to despise him. I discovered, as years passed, that he had been doing illicit drugs since he was twelve years old. He would sneak and wear my panties and negligees, and I asked him for a divorce. He told me he would never divorce me, and if I tried to divorce him that he would make my life a living hell, and he smirked and said, “You know what I am capable of doing.” He said he would ruin me in every way that he could dream of. He told me he planned to kill his father for insurance but decided not to go through it. He also told me that he kept trying to get his ex-wife to go to the mountains so he could push her over a cliff and kill her. I did not know how to swim, and he kept insisting that we go see the ocean. Well, I wasn’t going to do that based on what he had told me. It was all about money with him no matter what he had to do to get it. Knowing his murderous intentions, he was capable of anything. I know he drugged me sometimes because I have flashbacks of some things.
He was a drug addict; whether it would be prescription drugs or illicit drugs, he would do it. He always became violent when he was on drugs. I receive a lump sum of award money, and since I couldn’t count or do a lot of things after brain surgery, he went through my money like water. I had no idea he was doing this. He was plotting since the day we met. I can see that now. Most of my money went on his drugs and splurging all his desires. He was not going to let go of me. He only wanted to live off me ’cause he was too lazy to work. I overheard him on the phone one day, saying he was not going to work anymore. He didn’t realize that some of my memory was coming back to me. One day, when I came home, he wouldn’t let me in the house ’cause he didn’t want me to see him in women’s clothing and makeup.

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