There was a time when I thought I understood how important health was. I knew we were supposed to eat better, go to our appointments, listen to our bodies, and take care of ourselves.
But knowing something and truly understanding it are two completely different things.
My health journey changed that for me forever.
I was born with a congenital aortic bicuspid valve defect. What was originally supposed to be a minimally invasive surgery turned into something completely different—full open-heart surgery.
Everything changed so quickly.
During that experience, I flatlined twice. I was intubated twice. And somewhere in the middle of everything happening around me, I experienced something that I will carry with me for the rest of my life.
I remember seeing myself on that cold metal operating table. I could see myself strapped at my forehead, wrists, and ankles. I remember the brightness of the operating room lights, the many monitors surrounding me, and the nurses moving quickly as what was supposed to be one type of surgery was becoming something much more serious.
I remember seeing my surgeon, Dr. Jason Williams, scratching his head as everything seemed to be unfolding so fast.
And then there was a moment when I became so cold.
The pain was more than I felt I could endure.
I remember asking God to take me because I simply could not take it anymore.
And then, I went somewhere.
What I experienced next is difficult to explain because there are no words that can fully describe the peace I felt.
There was no pain.
There was no fear.
Just complete, overwhelming peace.
I saw a field covered in a shade of green unlike anything I had ever seen before. There was a waterfall, but no mountain behind it. On the other side, I saw small children playing.
Then a young girl noticed me.
She began walking toward the waterfall with the most beautiful smile—one I will never forget.
She reached her hand through the waterfall.
I reached mine toward hers.
And we touched.
Then she turned around.
Suddenly, I felt what seemed like a gentle push.
And I came back.
To this day, I believe it was not my time.
I believe God knew there was still something for me to do here.
There were still people I needed to love. There were still words I needed to speak. There were still parts of my life I had not yet lived.
That experience changed the way I see everything.
Like so many women, I had spent years taking care of everyone and everything around me. Family needed me. Work needed me. Life needed me. And somewhere in the middle of all of that, I had become accustomed to putting myself last.
My health journey taught me that we cannot continue putting ourselves at the bottom of our own priority list.
We cannot keep ignoring what our bodies are telling us.
We cannot keep postponing appointments, brushing off symptoms, or convincing ourselves that everyone else’s needs are more important than our own.
Our health matters.
Our lives matter.
And we are allowed to take care of ourselves too.
I do not share this part of my story because I want sympathy.
I share it because I am still here.
I am a living, breathing, walking testimony of what I believe God can do.
I believe God is real.
I believe prayer is powerful.
And I believe prayers spoken with genuine faith can carry us through moments we never thought we would survive.
I don’t have every answer about what happened to me that day, and I don’t pretend to.
I can only tell you what I saw, what I felt, and what it did to my heart.
It changed me forever.
Today, I understand life differently. I appreciate ordinary mornings differently. I love differently. I pray differently. And I no longer look at another day as something I am simply entitled to receive.
Every day is a gift.
And if sharing my health journey encourages even one person to make that appointment, listen to their body, ask another question, advocate for themselves, strengthen their faith, or finally realize, “My health matters too,” then telling my story has purpose.
This is only part of my story.
There is more to tell, and when the time is right, I will continue.
For now, I simply felt this part needed to be shared.
Because I am still standing.
Still breathing.
Still walking.
Still believing.
And still here for a reason.
— Aly
All Things Aly
Real Talk. Real Healing. Real Growth.