I was watching “Doctor Strange,” the Marvel movie, when I was floored by a scene. When the Ancient One is dying and talking with Dr.
Strange, she drops three truth bombs that reverberated through my soul. You see, like Dr. Strange, I’ve had my previous life stolen from me.
I wasn’t a surgeon, and the theft didn’t happen through a car wreck, but I’m not the same person I was three years ago. Due to a combination of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and seizures that are largely uncontrolled, I have moved from a high-level consulting job to being unemployed and unemployable.
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