In the 1960s, I was a “Mad Man”...

Richard (Dick) L. Burns
Live or Die: A Stroke of Good Luck

November 13 / 2013

As an advertising executive in Manhattan, I lived much of the lifestyle seen on the popular television series “Mad Men” (about ad execs in New York City in the 60s).  In fact, I was part of the team that created the timeless “Fruit of the Loom” underwear guys, among several other familiar accomplishments.  My life was on a fast, upward trajectory.  I was living an American Dream.  Until “it” hit me.

“It” was a jolt from out of nowhere, a disaster tearing me from the life I knew. It was a cerebral hemorrhage, a hemorrhagic stroke. The hospital medical staff threw up their hands in surrender. Make him comfortable, the body’s paralyzed, the brain’s gone and there’s nothing we can do.

They advised my wife to make arrangements.  My obituary was written.

Richard (Dick) Burns, 38, TV and advertising executive who dressed grown men up as fruit for an underwear commercial and had an airline paint smiles on its planes, died suddenly the day after Christmas. He is survived by his wife, Nancy, and three children, Lisa, Shelley and Richard. 

Hold on a minute, I must have asked myself, is this all I have accomplished during my time on this planet? I must have something better to offer than some silly TV ads.
And I guess the Almighty agreed. I didn’t die after all.

I wasn’t dead, but at 38 years old, life as I knew it, was gone.

Like many of you, I was filled with depression and despair.   You’re lying there, staring vacantly at that white ceiling, vaguely focusing on that light that mostly works. You’re down, you’re depressed, you hurt. You think, maybe if I had a gun, I’d end it all.
Take heart, you don’t need to go that road.

With my hemorrhagic stroke, physical as well as mental ability was destroyed, often resulting in partial or total paralysis. There was a need that far exceeded the norm for rest and recuperation after any effort. Speech suffered, slurred from the trauma and exertion that also resulted in mental tiredness. My hand shook; the body wouldn’t perform or cooperate in coordination. I felt beyond discouragement.

Over and over I had to repeat: it’s my ego that’s bruised. And that applies to any devastating physical difficulty. I was just thankful that I could still put my feet under me and feel the floor as I climbed out of bed each morning. And when my legs didn’t work properly I reminded myself that I was better off than the man who had no feet.

Today, I am functioning now, much as before. Pressure and fatigue wear more easily. I’m older. The mind has been tempered with the experiences of hurt, adversity and disaster and shaped by the realities of this world. And molded and bent by the need for a better existence for myself and those loved ones who sacrificed and suffered so much. Small wonder I view this whole process as a “stroke of good luck.”

Some 45 years after my stroke, I continue to share my story and lessons of learning and hope.  As a new blogger to SS Tattler, I plan to share what I hope are interesting and inspiring tidbits from my life as a stroke survivor.  They will be happy and sad, affirmative and sometimes shocking.  But, I truly believe, they will “speak” to you and help you to continue to savor life.