My old life ended early on the morning of Monday, March 15, 2010. I woke up that morning -- the first day after a long business road trip – tired and groggy, but otherwise fine.It was the first work day following the “spring ahead” switch to daylight savings time. My house was quiet, so I figured I deserved a bit more sleep.
Minutes later, I’m really not sure how many, I woke up again and the world had changed. I was dazed and confused. The right side of my body was numb from head to toe. I couldn’t see properly. It was like somebody had covered my right eye with Vaseline. I knew where I was, but I didn’t… my surrounding seemed surreal. Familiar and strange at the same time. I tried to get out of bed. I figured a shower would shake off the cob-webs. But my right side wasn’t cooperating. I couldn’t make my right leg work like it was supposed to, and being half blind wasn’t helping either. Never mind the confusion. And the fear that was starting to take grip.
It wasn’t a smooth trip down the two flights of stairs to my bath-room. More trip than smooth. When I came out of the shower, none the better for my efforts to wash this away, my wife was there. I suppose she heard me bang and crash my way down-stairs. She looked scared. I remember her saying that she was going to call an ambulance. When I didn’t argue, she looked even more frightened.
These were the first moments of my new life. I was only 45 and the sole bread earner for my wife Patricia and my daughters, Kristina and Anna, who were 16 and 13 at the time my brain decided to short circuit.
I found out later that I’d had a large left posterior cerebral artery territory infarct. While that, like much else, made no sense to me, I knew that I was messed up. As I looked around my room at the Grey Nuns stroke unit I was amazed and frightened to realize that none of the posters on the walls made sense. It was like they were written in some other language.
It was shocking, I was an ex-newspaper reporter with designs on writing a book one day. Now, in a flash, I couldn’t read or write. There were other missing pieces in my brain, as well – short term memory, math skills... My future, my family’s future was in real jeopardy.
But I had some things going for me, too. I had fast treatment. And I had access to amazing medical staff and rehab pros. I re-learned my ABCs, figured out tricks to improve the memory and within six months I was back working. And working on a book about this bizarre journey.
I’m not the same guy I was before the stroke. I still have deficits like not being able to read at even close to normal speed. My brain just can’t recognize words the way it used to. And those closest to me notice differences in mood and attitude. But I’m able to work and live a meaningful life and function as an active father and husband. None of this was a certainty back when my brain started short circuiting.
There is hope after a stroke.
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