February 18, 2013
It is terrifying to realize that in one brief moment, my life completely changed. I didn’t realize how much until I was back home with my family and trying to live life again. I am writing this over a month after my discharge from the hospital, and I think I have discovered all my deficits and struggles, but I am not sure. In case you’re interested in a list (arranged somewhat chronologically by when I discovered the problem), here it is:
* Pain. Thankfully, the neck pain and headaches are continuing to get better. However, since I can’t take ibuprofen with warfarin, can’t turn my neck too far with the dissection, and can’t see a chiropractor, my options for coping with the remaining pain are limited. And with the financial ramifications of the strokes, I’m only seeing my massage therapist because I had happened to pay for several sessions in advance prior to the strokes. My husband says he’d make me go anyway, but I’d find it hard to justify to myself.
* Exhaustion. Fatigue is not a strong enough word. I am more tired than I’ve ever been in my life. And I was enormously pregnant on night float working 80 hours a week in up to 30 hour long shifts as a resident. I’m more tired now.
* Vertigo and ataxia. This one seems to have two parts. There was that original horrible vertigo with the stroke I didn’t recognize as a stroke until later. But that was fairly manageable once I got used to it. With the final stroke, it became disabling. If I move my eyes too fast, turn my head, have people moving around me (or cars when driving), have a blank wall in front of me, have to walk too much (which isn’t very much), get tired, try to do anything in the dark or in the snow, look at the water falling when I take a shower, ride in the car for more than about ten minutes (and even worse, ride in the car on curvy mountain roads…or even worse drive those curves), look at multiple objects at once (for example, the clutter on a table after a meal), or experience any number of other random triggers, I get “swimmy.” It’s not straight-out dizzy. I can feel it come on and have come to think of it as a sensation of shooting out of my body up and to the left and then spinning there while my body falls to the right. I’ve learned the motor control to not actually fall unless I’m in an odd position or really tired, but it’s exhausting to manage and makes me really queasy and ill.