Karen Pyros
A mother’s healing love, common sense, gut instinct, blind hope, and miracles.
Episode 4 – Season 1
I was perceived to have it all. From the outside looking in, I had a happy marriage, three loving, happy children, a happy life. I worked when I wanted, spent what I needed and had few true responsibilities. A privileged existence filled with fun and games, parties, and exotic vacations. Silly, shallow and totally carefree.
That season came to a screeching halt the day my sweet son, my middle child, lost control of his car and slammed into a stone wall. My world turned from color into black and white. In that one moment all of our lives were altered, and our paths changed forever.
After intensive surgeries my son was just an unmoving, minimally conscious body, kept alive only with the help of machines, monitors, wires, and loud, piercing bells. What was left according to medical charts and the doctors in their own insensitive words, was a vegetable, was no hope, was a severe case of traumatic brain injury. What was left was not the boy I knew and loved and mothered for 17 years. I still had a warm body, but on that day I lost Damon.
My professional background was certified public accounting. I had no real medical knowledge whatsoever. Yet, I had to make the choice at the very start to either give up hope and listen to the professionals or wrap myself in a cloak of utter denial and begin the fight for my son’s return to life. I had to push away the scared, frivolous girl and find a strength in a woman I never knew I was. I had to stand tall and fight like hell for Damon while also, within the very next few years, fight through a nasty divorce, fight to keep strong relationships with my daughters, and learn how to stand alone after my dad unexpectedly died, followed almost immediately by my mom’s death a year later. Somehow, in my darkest moments, I chose hope. I chose the motto, “There is no option.” I chose to believe that Damon would heal. I chose to believe that love does indeed conquer all.
My story is not clinical. Rather, it is one of faith, a mother’s healing love, common sense, gut instinct, blind hope, and miracles. It is the story of an amazing boy who just refused to give up; it is the story of the rippling effects traumatic brain injury has on family and friends. And it is the story of choosing post-traumatic growth over post-traumatic stress.
Please read more of my story on www.kpyros.com or follow me on my facebook page: Karen Pyros.