It's been a minute since I have had anything to say regarding my life after my "massive" stroke. This is partially due to the fact that I have been working so hard to not lose the progress that I was able to achieve, but also because I can no longer drive myself places, and I am often housebound and have nothing new nor insightful to say.
So, I have been working at my PT/OT/SpT (Physical therapy, occupational therapy, and speech therapy) exercises, and trying not to drown in dirty dishes. It's not just that I can't physically apply enough pressure or hold them steady in my right hand without being afraid of dropping and breaking my dishes, but also that I have always hated washing dishes, and I just generally avoid them. Haha
But seriously, some days, I cannot bend over to unload or load a dishwasher without the world spinning and my falling due to vertigo, not just the inability to hold things still and have the grip strength to not ruin my dishes. If you think about a 3-4 year old doing dishes, you can see about my level since the stroke...but that's TONS better than those weeks when I couldn't even feel my right side at all, much less have any strength or coordination in it.
Some of us have weird "deficiencies" (medical term) that I prefer to call stroke leftovers. One of mine is a permanent inner ear issue. My brain literally died in that area, so I get unpredictable bouts of vertigo and confusion because my eyes and ears don't always sync up (think of your TV when the sound is not in sync with the movement of the actor's lips). I also see things permanently skewed off-center, so trying to get things where they need to Actually be is often a challenge, too. I have quite a list of these deficiencies, and they make life far more "interesting".
Each person who has had a stroke has different quirks. Each of us has to learn to embrace them in our own way and time.
This past weekend, I "chicken-winged" in church after holding the song book in my right hand on a particularly weak and exhausted day. The "chicken wing" is that weird hand and arm thing that is common across a lot of stroke survivors at some point of our journey (Our hands want to form a claw and our elbow and forearms want to tuck into our chest, rather like a dinosaur arm). This spasticity is normal for a lot of stroke survivors, as the body wants to constrict in the arm area, and any other area where there might have been some fatigue, stress, or damage. I almost started to cry in the pew. I frantically started my stretching exercises for that hand and arm. (funny side story: my physical therapist attends the same church and probably would have known exactly what had happened).
Every time that it happens, I feel SO self-conscious, and I rather blame myself. Like I am wrong to have a naturally occurring thing happen...or rather I am wrong for LETTING it happen. Neither of these are true, and when I am not tired and/or upset with myself and self-conscious, I can sometimes forgive myself and accept "the new me". Other times, it's so hard that I have full-blown panic attacks and feel like I am dying, usually happening hand-in-hand with extreme exhaustion.
(**Side Note: I have survived not only my "massive stroke", but also cancer and epstein-barr, and struggle with a type of lupus. Your loved one, or yourself, may also feel these ridiculous bouts of fatigue from time to time. PLEASE allow yourself time to heal, and understand that rest and taking care of oneself is the only way to move forward. Please don't do what I do, and don't blame yourself or get angry with your body).
I find myself struggling SO hard trying to look "normal". Part of that comes from my family (who are always there for me, but desperately want me to never need to call attention to myself. They hate that I Need my walker...and I just don't leave their house on wheelchair days). BUT Most of that comes from myself and my need for acceptance and to avoid being shunned for being different. I have several friends who don't include me in a lot of activities because they don't think that I can do it or enjoy sitting there while others enjoy themselves in various pastimes. Sometimes, they are exactly right: I would never enjoy 110* heat on a scorching hot summer day on a beach. Aside from the mobility issue, my meds make me physically ill in that kind of heat. Other times, I wish they would invite me to karaoke and Cards Against Humanity nights. But, that's also just life.
My point in this post isn't a pity party. It's to say that there might be a time that your loved one or yourself who is a stroke survivor has low self-esteem issues. They might need an extra hug or 50. They might need professional help or antidepressants. They might need a massage and a makeover. Whatever it is, please handle with care and help, if you can. Even if it's just with verbal support or a prayer/happy thought, sometimes, that helps a lot. Please don't add to their already full plate of anxiety and self-doubt or low self-esteem. I promise you, we've got that covered.
Thank you!! 💖
Wednesday, April 24, 2019
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
My first real instance of stroke envy
Today, I woke up after another night nightmares and very little sleep. Again. To calm me down, I flipped on the TV (my surrogate friend that babysits me while everyone else is working...won't go into my hang-ups about productivity right now). On one of my favorite shows ("My Fair Wedding with David Tutera"), there was a beautiful bride-to-be needing help with her themed wedding that had gone awry. The difference was that on this particular episode the bride was a stroke survivor. That quickly got my attention. She was 29 at the time of the taping, but had had a stroke when she was 22 and a size 24. She thought that her weight and perhaps birth control pills had led to her ischemic stroke. She lost weight, and at the taping was a size 6 and wearing heels. She showed no readily apparent deficiencies, and for the first time ever, I had stroke envy. I had a stroke when I was young as well. I had the same type of stroke (clot burst as opposed to trauma or bleed, etc.). Perhaps those 5 years that I had on her when it happened were the reason. Perhaps there is no reason, and it was all fate or chance or divine intervention. Whatever the reason, I felt envious, but happy for her that she gets to live a normal life, within reason, after her stroke.
My cane leans against the wall, and my tennis shoes perpetually cover my feet, in a reminder that life is short and that hard work pays off. I am no longer 1/2 paralyzed and mute. I just sometimes wish that my work could put me back in heels, riding roller coasters, and able to speak without the aphasia-tinted speech patterns. I wish that I could fill out an intake form at a doctor's office without needing a break/my other hand to finish writing. I also wish that my memory and stamina would let me be able to work outside of the home. Watching Law and Order SVU (episode 9, season 8 "Choreographed"), I was reminded that things could have gone very differently for me, had I not had an amazing family. In that episode, a lawyer from a big firm in NYC had a major stroke. Afterward, he was fired and eventually made homeless. He spoke like I did right after my stroke. He used charades and drawings and got frustrated, just as I did right around the turn of the century.
I am so grateful for what I have, but when I see those that were luckier, I have to grieve a little for the me that will never be again. I am sure that others going through midlife crises go through a similar cleansing process to let go of yesteryear and the person that they were and embrace what and who they have become. It is just easier sometimes than at others, is all that I am saying.
Bravo to that young lady "Kristen"!! May she have her happily ever after with her new husband!! (I know that I am living my happily ever after every day, thanks to my family, friends, and my spiritual connection to what I consider the divine).
My cane leans against the wall, and my tennis shoes perpetually cover my feet, in a reminder that life is short and that hard work pays off. I am no longer 1/2 paralyzed and mute. I just sometimes wish that my work could put me back in heels, riding roller coasters, and able to speak without the aphasia-tinted speech patterns. I wish that I could fill out an intake form at a doctor's office without needing a break/my other hand to finish writing. I also wish that my memory and stamina would let me be able to work outside of the home. Watching Law and Order SVU (episode 9, season 8 "Choreographed"), I was reminded that things could have gone very differently for me, had I not had an amazing family. In that episode, a lawyer from a big firm in NYC had a major stroke. Afterward, he was fired and eventually made homeless. He spoke like I did right after my stroke. He used charades and drawings and got frustrated, just as I did right around the turn of the century.
I am so grateful for what I have, but when I see those that were luckier, I have to grieve a little for the me that will never be again. I am sure that others going through midlife crises go through a similar cleansing process to let go of yesteryear and the person that they were and embrace what and who they have become. It is just easier sometimes than at others, is all that I am saying.
Bravo to that young lady "Kristen"!! May she have her happily ever after with her new husband!! (I know that I am living my happily ever after every day, thanks to my family, friends, and my spiritual connection to what I consider the divine).
Monday, September 19, 2011
If I lay here...if I just lay here...Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
As I was preparing for the new season of Grey's Anatomy, I watched an episode from last season on Hulu.com that brought me to unexpected tears, and by tears, I mean ridiculous sobs. It was from Season 7 of Grey's that a musical number used as Callie's song was Snow Patrol's "Chasing Cars." For those of you that don't watch Grey's, the plot was simple enough: Callie, a doctor at Seattle Grace hospital, was thrown through the window of the car that she was riding in when it collided with a semi. Callie narrated the episode and began saying that the brain acts in funny ways, especially when it is badly hurt. Callie was seriously injured, and the experiences that took place in the first few minutes of that Grey's Anatomy episode shook me to the core, and I flashed back to the feelings that flood me every time that I relive what happened with my stroke.
When I was admitted into the hospital where my CT scan showed the actual damage that my stroke had done (as opposed to the hospital that failed to diagnose me three days earlier), my "golden hour" was long gone. The doctors had expressed their concern over whether I would make it through the subsequent 48 hours. After they rolled me into my room, I don't really remember much that happened during the next few days/weeks. I have a snippet here and a snippet there, but no real lengthy memories. I just remember being so tired, and the one other thing that I remember was this:
My song was "Breathe," by Faith Hill.
I was never a huge country music fan. Before my stroke, I knew the country songs that played at the bars that I went to, and those that my friends' bands played, but my top 5 favorite songs (thank you, Mr. Cusack) were all alternative and new wave hits.
This is what made the song that was on constant loop in my head, the chorus of "Breathe," that much more bizarre. About 3 months later, I realized that the reason for it being the chorus was that I didn't know the words to the rest of the song. Yet, this was my salvation song. This song allowed me to sleep and not to feel alone; to remember to "Juuuuuuust breathe", even when having an MRI or two. I felt that it was a divine presence, but I am sure that my neurologist would just tell me that some neurotransmitter was just on hyperdrive or something.
It was the similarities between what happened to Callie and what had happened to me, on a superficial level, felt so close that it was like I was back on a gurney and unable to move half of my body or speak again. I felt her song like I felt mine: deep within my soul.
My family never let me feel alone, for which I can never thank them enough. My advice for any families that have someone who have had a stroke: have someone there as much as possible, and perhaps make a mixed tape for their room of their favorite songs, so that if their brain cannot come up with a song, one is there to soothe their internal pain.
My song reminded me to "Just Breathe."
When I was admitted into the hospital where my CT scan showed the actual damage that my stroke had done (as opposed to the hospital that failed to diagnose me three days earlier), my "golden hour" was long gone. The doctors had expressed their concern over whether I would make it through the subsequent 48 hours. After they rolled me into my room, I don't really remember much that happened during the next few days/weeks. I have a snippet here and a snippet there, but no real lengthy memories. I just remember being so tired, and the one other thing that I remember was this:
My song was "Breathe," by Faith Hill.
I was never a huge country music fan. Before my stroke, I knew the country songs that played at the bars that I went to, and those that my friends' bands played, but my top 5 favorite songs (thank you, Mr. Cusack) were all alternative and new wave hits.
This is what made the song that was on constant loop in my head, the chorus of "Breathe," that much more bizarre. About 3 months later, I realized that the reason for it being the chorus was that I didn't know the words to the rest of the song. Yet, this was my salvation song. This song allowed me to sleep and not to feel alone; to remember to "Juuuuuuust breathe", even when having an MRI or two. I felt that it was a divine presence, but I am sure that my neurologist would just tell me that some neurotransmitter was just on hyperdrive or something.
It was the similarities between what happened to Callie and what had happened to me, on a superficial level, felt so close that it was like I was back on a gurney and unable to move half of my body or speak again. I felt her song like I felt mine: deep within my soul.
My family never let me feel alone, for which I can never thank them enough. My advice for any families that have someone who have had a stroke: have someone there as much as possible, and perhaps make a mixed tape for their room of their favorite songs, so that if their brain cannot come up with a song, one is there to soothe their internal pain.
My song reminded me to "Just Breathe."
Sunday, January 16, 2011
It's the little things...
Sometimes, I forget the little differences that exist in my life. For those of you with family members (or you, yourself) that have experienced a stroke, there might be some minor "deficiencies" that might not be even noticed at first.
I would like to let others know a little known fact or 2 from my personal experience (not to say that these will apply to everyone):
1) if you work really hard at your rehabilitation, the best improvement will happen in the first 6 months (this, they usually tell you).
2) There comes a time (for me, it was at month 19) when scar tissue may set in within your brain in the area that is no longer swollen from the stroke's after-effects. I experienced a major set-back or two, but this is not necessarily permanent, nor is it guaranteed to happen. I lost the ability to drive because my right hip was too weak to allow for that kind of movement, as well as my vision being shifted about 30 degrees off-center, so my perception was off. All this added up to mean that driving was too exhausting for safe travels to anywhere, and the doctor asked for my license again. I permanently lost the ability to walk in heels. Like I said, everyone is different, and my weakness greatly affected my quad muscle and my right hip. BUT at least I can walk, although I use a cane for stability.
3) Like I said before, a clot or a stroke can take up to 72-hours to show up on a CT scan, so if you feel the signs, seek a second opinion. Even if that means consulting another ER. Mine was left for nearly 3 days, and I was lucky to have survived that.
4) Strokes do not hurt. They make you sleepier than you have ever been in your life. I was starving, but I fell asleep during the first spoonful of my oatmeal.
5) This brings me to my second point: if you suspect someone has had a stroke, DON'T feed them until the doctor says that it is OK. They could choke to death on their food (by aspirating on their food), and because in some cases, the muscles don't work on one side of the throat, the Heimlich maneuver may not work.
6) I personally have lost my peripheral vision from both eyes. This is normal. Some people lose their vision totally from one or both eyes. Sometimes it comes back, and sometimes it does not. Either way, be patient and be aware.
7) With a left-sided stroke, they might have to learn to talk again. This means that is English is not the primary language spoken in your house, it is best that you show up and help out the speech therapist. Also, they will need LOTS of practice in any language. I remember being in rehab. with a gentleman that came in not speaking much English, but since his family was never there, he ended up speaking nothing but English by the time that he was released, because no one on his team knew Spanish. I was still stuck in my head (my speech was slow in returning because of my aphasia and the area in which I had my stroke), or I could have tried to help out, but I was still calling all food "Oh Mee," which was as close as I could get to "oatmeal," which symbolized all food at first.
8) With a right-sided stroke, please be very understanding. It can delete memories and also scramble speech or speech recognition. This makes communication very hard and frustrating on all parts. Spouses have heartbreaking moments sometimes because their spouse honestly has no idea who they are (to be fair, in some cases, they do not recognize anyone, if the injury is in that part of the brain. In rare cases, their ability to differentiate faces from each other or from fruit might be gone).
9) There might be movements that are particularly difficult for a person that has had a stroke. For me, it is the pancake movement. Turning my wrist over with any sort of weight on it (like a spatula or cooking spoon) is very difficult for me. It has gotten easier, but I still have my days.
10) Just because someone has gotten help and was able to do stuff like walking up a short flight of stairs does not mean that this will be the case every day. Like anything else, every day is different, and some days, the person will have more pain or have more muscle-weakness than others. Be patient and understanding, please.
It took me 45 minutes to type a 3 sentence (probably 15 word) note to the law school office when I got home from the hospital after my stroke. Now, I can type a lot more, but I can not write more than about 2 sentences by hand even 4 years later.
Everyone is different, so please do not think that I am the only example (or even the best one).
When I remember some of the other little things, I will post again. Goodnight.
I would like to let others know a little known fact or 2 from my personal experience (not to say that these will apply to everyone):
1) if you work really hard at your rehabilitation, the best improvement will happen in the first 6 months (this, they usually tell you).
2) There comes a time (for me, it was at month 19) when scar tissue may set in within your brain in the area that is no longer swollen from the stroke's after-effects. I experienced a major set-back or two, but this is not necessarily permanent, nor is it guaranteed to happen. I lost the ability to drive because my right hip was too weak to allow for that kind of movement, as well as my vision being shifted about 30 degrees off-center, so my perception was off. All this added up to mean that driving was too exhausting for safe travels to anywhere, and the doctor asked for my license again. I permanently lost the ability to walk in heels. Like I said, everyone is different, and my weakness greatly affected my quad muscle and my right hip. BUT at least I can walk, although I use a cane for stability.
3) Like I said before, a clot or a stroke can take up to 72-hours to show up on a CT scan, so if you feel the signs, seek a second opinion. Even if that means consulting another ER. Mine was left for nearly 3 days, and I was lucky to have survived that.
4) Strokes do not hurt. They make you sleepier than you have ever been in your life. I was starving, but I fell asleep during the first spoonful of my oatmeal.
5) This brings me to my second point: if you suspect someone has had a stroke, DON'T feed them until the doctor says that it is OK. They could choke to death on their food (by aspirating on their food), and because in some cases, the muscles don't work on one side of the throat, the Heimlich maneuver may not work.
6) I personally have lost my peripheral vision from both eyes. This is normal. Some people lose their vision totally from one or both eyes. Sometimes it comes back, and sometimes it does not. Either way, be patient and be aware.
7) With a left-sided stroke, they might have to learn to talk again. This means that is English is not the primary language spoken in your house, it is best that you show up and help out the speech therapist. Also, they will need LOTS of practice in any language. I remember being in rehab. with a gentleman that came in not speaking much English, but since his family was never there, he ended up speaking nothing but English by the time that he was released, because no one on his team knew Spanish. I was still stuck in my head (my speech was slow in returning because of my aphasia and the area in which I had my stroke), or I could have tried to help out, but I was still calling all food "Oh Mee," which was as close as I could get to "oatmeal," which symbolized all food at first.
8) With a right-sided stroke, please be very understanding. It can delete memories and also scramble speech or speech recognition. This makes communication very hard and frustrating on all parts. Spouses have heartbreaking moments sometimes because their spouse honestly has no idea who they are (to be fair, in some cases, they do not recognize anyone, if the injury is in that part of the brain. In rare cases, their ability to differentiate faces from each other or from fruit might be gone).
9) There might be movements that are particularly difficult for a person that has had a stroke. For me, it is the pancake movement. Turning my wrist over with any sort of weight on it (like a spatula or cooking spoon) is very difficult for me. It has gotten easier, but I still have my days.
10) Just because someone has gotten help and was able to do stuff like walking up a short flight of stairs does not mean that this will be the case every day. Like anything else, every day is different, and some days, the person will have more pain or have more muscle-weakness than others. Be patient and understanding, please.
It took me 45 minutes to type a 3 sentence (probably 15 word) note to the law school office when I got home from the hospital after my stroke. Now, I can type a lot more, but I can not write more than about 2 sentences by hand even 4 years later.
Everyone is different, so please do not think that I am the only example (or even the best one).
When I remember some of the other little things, I will post again. Goodnight.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Will you stop the world and melt with me?
This afternoon, since there was not much else on, I watched Valley Girl again. As I am a product of LA in the 1980's, this movie resonated in an unexpected way. I have to say that as someone that has had to relearn most basic things, there are times when it does become overwhelming and truly emotional. Sometimes, it does become all too much, as I am sure that it does in the lives of everyone else, but with different triggers and for different reasons. For me, it is the reminder of what life once was, and the endless possibilities that are now gone or markedly different. It is the endless potential of youth, young love, and the promise of tomorrow that slap me in the face with just how much my life has changed. Having mid-life crises over and over again is just a part of my life now, even though I am only in my 30's. Thank goodness that I only have the ache of loss for my former life about once a season to twice a year.
At the end of the day, I do believe in the immortal words of Gloria Gaynor (1978), "I will survive."
For those of you with family member or friends that have had major life experiences like strokes, heart attacks, cancers, or other life-changing experiences (sometimes experiences like having a child), just be patient and offer hugs, not criticism. Love, not shame. It is like a pressure valve that just needs to be released sometimes, and once it is cried out, everything will be back to normal. If not, then professional help is just a phone call away.
At the end of the day, I do believe in the immortal words of Gloria Gaynor (1978), "I will survive."
For those of you with family member or friends that have had major life experiences like strokes, heart attacks, cancers, or other life-changing experiences (sometimes experiences like having a child), just be patient and offer hugs, not criticism. Love, not shame. It is like a pressure valve that just needs to be released sometimes, and once it is cried out, everything will be back to normal. If not, then professional help is just a phone call away.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Hello! (That was so original!)
On June 1st (shortly after the turn of the century), I had a stroke that affected my left hemisphere from my parietal region up through my frontal lobe/prefrontal cortex. This affected the right side of my body. (For all of the doctors out there, sorry to not be very technical about it, with the talk about CVA's and subarachnoid something-or-others; For everyone else, sorry that I have to get a bit specific so that you know what I am talking about).
I noticed the symptoms, but I didn't know that they were stroke symptoms. I was at my car (at the time, a 1 year old Mercedes-Benz C class. This is not meant to brag- it will be relevant in a few minutes) and was trying to open my trunk, when I kept noticing that I would drop my keys. I didn't realize until later that I was blind in the right eye and my right hand had lost some motor skill already. I called 9-1-1, as I figured that it was a sugar problem, and that I would probably die in the Central Texas 105 degree heat if I didn't get help. The dispatcher got my information which I stuttered out, and once again, I rationalized it to be a low blood sugar issue. When the ambulance drove up, they passed my car 3 times. I attempted to honk my horn at them, but it wouldn't honk. It was because I had no strength left in my right arm to depress the horn (and I was holding the phone with my left). I had thought, at the time, that it was a problem with my horn/car. When the paramedics asked what was wrong, I could no longer speak. I had to fight to get out my dad's name, as I pressed the speed dial on my phone, as he was the only person that I knew would answer the phone in the middle of the afternoon. It did occur to me to write notes, but I just ended up fighting to draw jagged circles. That was weird and scary. I was stuck in my own head, as my thoughts were clear as ever, but I couldn't communicate with anyone around.
Years later, I asked for a copy of my records from the hospital and the EMS service. I found out that they gave me Narcan, an overdose drug, that knocked me out for about a while after I seized and was a little sick to my stomach. Given my situation, that could have been very dangerous, as my blood-brain barrier was rather open and accepting at that time. They did this because they thought that I had overdosed and/or was having a psychotic break from reality, and that I had been living in my car (even though I had been picked up from my gated apartment's parking lot). I had been planning on driving down to visit my family in San Antonio, and I had luggage in the back seat, because I couldn't get into the trunk (I kept dropping the keys and couldn't get the keys in the keyhole). Who lives in their MB in a gated community's parking lot?!
When I got to the ER, I was scanned and left on a gurney for more than 4 hours (as my mom drove up to get me, and she lived 3 hours away). I knew no one well in that military town. All of my friends had moved away, as many do. I had an acquaintance in the form of an ex-girlfriend of a good friend of mine that lived in town, but as she was now a ranking officer's wife, she was very busy with her life and her family. She took pity on me and visited me anyway (and brought me food. I hadn't eaten anything that day but a bowl of mini wheats). She kept me company while I waited on my mom.
The first CT scan done that day showed nothing abnormal, despite my weird and random symptoms. The ER doc's diagnosis was to confirm the EMS' suspicion that I was having a psychotic break and needed in-patient psychiatric help.
Since I was in my 20's, the ER doc on duty released me to my mother's care and was advised that I should stay at her house (3 hours away), with the recommendation that I seek in-patient care for the supposed mental illness that was causing my symptoms. The stroke was initially undiagnosed because they only looked at my CT scan and age, not the fact that I couldn't walk, and I was fighting to talk, to find words, and to remain conscious.
This next part is important:
*** It can take up to 72 hours for a stroke to appear on a CT scan***
At the time, I did not know this vital bit of information. I figured that I was just losing my mind and was really sick.
That was a Thursday evening. By Friday afternoon, I had lost the ability to talk completely. My younger sister had to teach me the word "Oatmeal," which came to mean all food. It came out more of an "oh ml" I am sure, but my family knew what I meant. Friday evening, my former therapist came by to consult on my situation to weigh in on whether I should be checked into in-patient psychiatric care. His vote was no, but to call if things got worse.
On Saturday, I got up and decided that I wanted a shower. I ended up falling and taking the glass shower door with me. My mom decided that I needed to see her chiropractor. My parents carried me to the car because when I tried to walk, my right foot dragged behind in a strange zombie-like movement. My arm had decided to live as though I had it in a sling, and my fingers had been balled up for a day at this point. I looked like I belonged in either a Thriller video or Shaun of the Dead movie. It was rather bizarre, but I was too tired to care.
When we got to the chiropractor, he instructed my mom to take me back to the ER immediately. He said that it looked like a stroke. My mom told him that they said that it wasn't. He said take me back anyway, as there was something wrong with me that he couldn't fix.
My mom and dad did take me back to a different ER that was close to their house (LOVE their food now), and I was examined and CT'ed again. The ER doctor said that I had had a massive stroke, and that if she had not seen the scans herself, she would never have believed it (assuming that this comment was because of my age). That was June 4th. So, officially, I had a stroke on June 4th, as no other chart makes mention of my condition.
The moral of today's story, boys and girls, is that you should know the symptoms of a stroke and how to test for them.
Symptoms: (from http://www.americanheart.org/presenter.jhtml?identifier=4742)
There are many others like me that are fortunate enough to be alive. Make sure that your loved ones (including yourself) are part of this crowd.
I noticed the symptoms, but I didn't know that they were stroke symptoms. I was at my car (at the time, a 1 year old Mercedes-Benz C class. This is not meant to brag- it will be relevant in a few minutes) and was trying to open my trunk, when I kept noticing that I would drop my keys. I didn't realize until later that I was blind in the right eye and my right hand had lost some motor skill already. I called 9-1-1, as I figured that it was a sugar problem, and that I would probably die in the Central Texas 105 degree heat if I didn't get help. The dispatcher got my information which I stuttered out, and once again, I rationalized it to be a low blood sugar issue. When the ambulance drove up, they passed my car 3 times. I attempted to honk my horn at them, but it wouldn't honk. It was because I had no strength left in my right arm to depress the horn (and I was holding the phone with my left). I had thought, at the time, that it was a problem with my horn/car. When the paramedics asked what was wrong, I could no longer speak. I had to fight to get out my dad's name, as I pressed the speed dial on my phone, as he was the only person that I knew would answer the phone in the middle of the afternoon. It did occur to me to write notes, but I just ended up fighting to draw jagged circles. That was weird and scary. I was stuck in my own head, as my thoughts were clear as ever, but I couldn't communicate with anyone around.
Years later, I asked for a copy of my records from the hospital and the EMS service. I found out that they gave me Narcan, an overdose drug, that knocked me out for about a while after I seized and was a little sick to my stomach. Given my situation, that could have been very dangerous, as my blood-brain barrier was rather open and accepting at that time. They did this because they thought that I had overdosed and/or was having a psychotic break from reality, and that I had been living in my car (even though I had been picked up from my gated apartment's parking lot). I had been planning on driving down to visit my family in San Antonio, and I had luggage in the back seat, because I couldn't get into the trunk (I kept dropping the keys and couldn't get the keys in the keyhole). Who lives in their MB in a gated community's parking lot?!
When I got to the ER, I was scanned and left on a gurney for more than 4 hours (as my mom drove up to get me, and she lived 3 hours away). I knew no one well in that military town. All of my friends had moved away, as many do. I had an acquaintance in the form of an ex-girlfriend of a good friend of mine that lived in town, but as she was now a ranking officer's wife, she was very busy with her life and her family. She took pity on me and visited me anyway (and brought me food. I hadn't eaten anything that day but a bowl of mini wheats). She kept me company while I waited on my mom.
The first CT scan done that day showed nothing abnormal, despite my weird and random symptoms. The ER doc's diagnosis was to confirm the EMS' suspicion that I was having a psychotic break and needed in-patient psychiatric help.
Since I was in my 20's, the ER doc on duty released me to my mother's care and was advised that I should stay at her house (3 hours away), with the recommendation that I seek in-patient care for the supposed mental illness that was causing my symptoms. The stroke was initially undiagnosed because they only looked at my CT scan and age, not the fact that I couldn't walk, and I was fighting to talk, to find words, and to remain conscious.
This next part is important:
*** It can take up to 72 hours for a stroke to appear on a CT scan***
At the time, I did not know this vital bit of information. I figured that I was just losing my mind and was really sick.
That was a Thursday evening. By Friday afternoon, I had lost the ability to talk completely. My younger sister had to teach me the word "Oatmeal," which came to mean all food. It came out more of an "oh ml" I am sure, but my family knew what I meant. Friday evening, my former therapist came by to consult on my situation to weigh in on whether I should be checked into in-patient psychiatric care. His vote was no, but to call if things got worse.
On Saturday, I got up and decided that I wanted a shower. I ended up falling and taking the glass shower door with me. My mom decided that I needed to see her chiropractor. My parents carried me to the car because when I tried to walk, my right foot dragged behind in a strange zombie-like movement. My arm had decided to live as though I had it in a sling, and my fingers had been balled up for a day at this point. I looked like I belonged in either a Thriller video or Shaun of the Dead movie. It was rather bizarre, but I was too tired to care.
When we got to the chiropractor, he instructed my mom to take me back to the ER immediately. He said that it looked like a stroke. My mom told him that they said that it wasn't. He said take me back anyway, as there was something wrong with me that he couldn't fix.
My mom and dad did take me back to a different ER that was close to their house (LOVE their food now), and I was examined and CT'ed again. The ER doctor said that I had had a massive stroke, and that if she had not seen the scans herself, she would never have believed it (assuming that this comment was because of my age). That was June 4th. So, officially, I had a stroke on June 4th, as no other chart makes mention of my condition.
The moral of today's story, boys and girls, is that you should know the symptoms of a stroke and how to test for them.
Symptoms: (from http://www.americanheart.org/presenter.jhtml?identifier=4742)
- Sudden numbness of all or part of your face, arm, or leg (esp. when only on one side)
- Sudden confusion, trouble speaking or understanding
- Trouble seeing with either one or both eyes
- Trouble walking, loss of coordination, or dizziness
- Sudden, severe headache for no reason
- Raise both arms above your head together
- Stand on one leg only, then switch to the other (tests balance on both sides)
- Talk out loud (say your whole address or something with many different sounds)
- Smile in a mirror (stroke will cause facial drooping in some people)
There are many others like me that are fortunate enough to be alive. Make sure that your loved ones (including yourself) are part of this crowd.
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