Two years ago, Cal State Long Beach (CSULB) student Jessica Solomon wasn’t sure she would make it to her college graduation. Diagnosed with an arteriovenous malformation (AVM) in the frontal lobe of her brain as a junior, Solomon underwent a delicate operation to remove the peach-pit size AVM last January that could have resulted in the loss of some or all of her left-brain function.
Last week, however, Solomon marched with her class in the College of Business Administration at CSULB, and she was conferred a bachelor’s of science degree in human resources management. And while each graduate may have his or her own individual story of struggle and accomplishment, none may be quite as harrowing as Solomon’s and none of those other students may be as thankful and excited as she is to have gotten to this point.
The following is her story, in her own words:
Graduation is the start of a new beginning, the starting line to our career paths, or just simply the start of a new life itself. Two years ago, I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it to this point. I started missing a lot of classes due to migraine headaches. However, knowing how much was taught during those hour-and-15-minute classes, I knew I had to bear through the migraines and attend class anyway. I would sit in the back of the class with a hat on and cry because of the pain I was in. Towards the end of the spring semester, Mother’s Day to be exact, I blacked out for the third time in front of my family. At this point, we all knew these headaches were more than just migraines.
After several doctor visits, I was diagnosed with an arteriovenous malformation in the frontal lobe of my brain. An AVM is an abnormal connection between veins and arteries. As the doctor described it, it was as if my veins were bursting balloons. Every time I would get a migraine or black out, it was likely that one of the veins was hemorrhaging. It was decided that having the AVM removed was going to be my best option to try and stop the migraines.
Not knowing what the side effects would be from the surgery, I opted to wait until January since I was already enrolled in classes for the fall semester. The fall semester turned out to be a real trial of my character and my ability to keep going. I continued to get migraines, was losing my hair due to the medication I was taking, and was watching my grades drop due to my absences from classes. Luckily, I had two great friends who have been my best friends since kindergarten, who also attended CSULB. They would drive me to and from school, and if need be, they would even take me from class to class.
The migraines worsened, and at the age of 21, it was extremely difficult for me to add a beneficiary on all my bank accounts and my 401K, knowing the reason for doing so.
January came and it was time for this procedure to take place. Once again, after several tests and preparation, they said I was ready. The doctor signed his name on the right side of my neck, and then proceeded to tell me that the size of the AVM was about the size of a peach core. As I was trying to remain calm in the pre-op room, he continued to tell me that where it was located in my brain could affect my whole left side and minimize my peripheral vision. I had one of the top doctors at UCLA, so all I kept thinking was, “Don’t cry!” because I didn’t want to upset my family. Finally they told me to say “good-bye” because it was time to take me in. I couldn’t do it. I knew it wasn’t “good-bye,” so I fought back the tears, smiled to the best of my ability, and said “See you soon.”
Twelve long hours later, they woke me and said, “Jessica, you’re all done. Would you like us to tell your family anything?” I replied, “Just tell them I said ‘hi.'” Then I proceeded to wiggle both my hands and feet, at which point, I knew I was going to be okay. They all moved.
They next few days in the hospital presented challenges for me with high fevers, extreme pain, and, of course, the nasty food they served. But only three days after the surgery, I was released to go home. My recovery was expected to last from one to three months. With this lengthy recovery, spring semester was out of the question, so an academic leave was necessary.
With a great family and a great group of friends and their families, I was never alone or uncared for. It took me about one month to almost fully recover. The only side effect was a decrease in my peripheral vision. Soon the month of April came, and I was back to work with a position in the human resources department at [Signal Hill] Home Depot. Summer school came, and I was so excited to be back in school. By fall semester, I was back to taking 15 units and working full time. This past January, I celebrated one year since my surgery and was elated that an entire year had passed without one migraine headache and no further side effects.
Now, I am heading towards my last semester at CSULB and closing a chapter in my book of life. With the ability to juggle 15 units, work full time, and hold a position in human resources, as crazy as it sounds, I am back to doing what I love, i.e., spending crazy long nights of studying, drinking multiple cups of coffee to stay awake, and complaining along with my classmates about difficult tests and projects.
As with any challenge that we are faced with, opportunity follows to overcome it. It is in these moments that one truly discovers his character. There are many defining moments in a person’s life; from my experience, I have learned that either you define the moment or the moment will define you. The combination of my declining performance at school, my poor health, and my job in jeopardy forced me to be courageous in the midst of the storm. This was my moment of definition, and I stand before you today as a person that did not let a moment of challenge define my existence, but rather faced this burden with courage and love, and defined this moment as the day I will start to live.
So, graduation to me is not just the culmination of another five years of school, nor is it merely a piece of paper that I earned. It truly is a new beginning for me— the beginning of the next step in my education and future career, and most importantly, the beginning of a new chapter in my life, one I wasn’t sure I’d be around to write. I look forward to everything with an excitement and enthusiasm most students cannot understand. From the life lessons I have learned at CSULB as well as those lessons I learned from having brain surgery, I can truly say that I will be leaving feeling grateful for the education I received, the friendships I made, and very proud of the person I have become.
