Sabrina Schiermeyer

It’s all started when I was continuously sleeping in class and it was so consistent that it caught the attention of the principle of my elementary school. This was brought to my parents attention but nothing was really done. It wasn’t until I stayed at my grandma’s house that a red flag was raised. She was in a room and I in the living room. Calling for me but I couldn’t hear her. Until she got closer to me and shouted loudly did I hear her. This caused her to make a doctor’s appointment because I always listened to her. My mother thought it to be too much of an over reaction on something so little.

My grandmother and I went to the appointment and as she explained her concerns, the doctor explained that it was just “selective hearing”. My grandma insisted he continue on with the test because it wasn’t selective hearing and that I may act out with my parents but not her. So we did all the tests you could think of; blood, stool, pray, full exam. And it all came back negative.

Then he decides to check my ears. Blew into my right ear and asked how that felt, and I shrug my shoulders. Then they the left and I laughed and said how it tickled. Well he had this hmmmm noise n my grandma must’ve heard tht and asked what was wrong. He stopped looking at me and faced her. He said, well I think an MRI would be our next step. Something lit up in her eyes and at ten, I had no clue what the heck that test was or why that scared her.

So I did the test and went on about my day. The doctor called my mom about 6 hours later that I needed to head to UCLA hospital because there was a tumor in my brain.

I underwent 2 brain surgeries and about 4 months of chemotherapy in the morning and radiation in the evening 5 days a week.
When I was discharged from the hospital because they had gotten all of the tumor, I was in a wheelchair, bald, paralysis on the left side of my body head to toe and had blurry vision. I went to a clinic, luckily it is where my mother was working at, and was able to get speech therapy, occupational therapy, physical therapy and counseling. I honestly don’t know where I’d be if it weren’t for the therapists that put up with my pain in the butt attitude.

Now I’m am 33, 34 in 5 months, and celebrated my 23rd anniversary of being in remission on Valentines Day. I am so thankful for all those that have something to do with brain injury association of America. It helps us survivors see that there are people that care about us.