Sunday, December 21, 2014

Five Positives

You would think that having a stroke and being paralyzed on one side of your body would be one of the worst things that could ever happen to you. And mostly it is, from my point of view. Except you'll be surprised that I've actually found good things from this tragedy that has happened to me

1. I have discovered things about myself that I never knew. Such as how strong I am. I always thought of myself as a weak person until this happened. Now I know that anything is possible for me.

2. I'm amazed at how many people I've met because of my stroke. I have met people near and far and their stories and journeys have inspired me to do better for myself. These friendships are priceless to me.

3. I've learned to take nothing for granted. Family is the most important thing ever. Scott and I both now know what's really important in life. We were never materialistic before, but we definitely now know that life is not about the things you aquire, but it's about the life that you make for yourself, and the time that you spend with loved ones.

4. The time that I have gotten to spend with my mom because she moved in with me is something that I will always cherish. Had I not had my stroke I probably would have not had this awesome time to spend with her.

5. Lessons I can teach to my boys. Priceless and valuable lessons that I can teach them. Like, never to give up, and to always believe in themselves. I hope that they are better men because of what happened to me.

You may think that I would say 2014 is the worst year of my life, and it really is not. Honestly, 1999 was the worst year of my life. The year my dad died. That life event has impacted my life more than my stroke ever has.

So on that note I wish everyone a Happy New Year and here's to 2015. Let it be healthy and happy for everyone!

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

Can't See the Forest for the Trees.


Sometimes it's hard for me to see how far I've come.  Luckily I have great friends and family that remind me, but for some reason today was a really bad day.  I really couldn't tell you why.  Maybe it's because I've reached a plateau in my therapy. 

Trash pick-up is in a couple of days.  My mom asked that the garage door be left open until it was all taken out and set by the curb.  For some reason when mom said that, I had a sudden flashback to when I was in the ICU.  Doctors would come in intermittently and ask me random questions such as who is the president, what year it was etc.  On one such day the doctors asked me what day it was.  I answered that it was Friday, trash day.  Scott said the doctor just looked around the room at everyone.  The doctor said knowing the size of the brain bleed I had, it was uncommon for someone to be so fully aware of their surroundings.  I knew exactly what was going on.  I could answer all their questions correctly. 

Even now when I go for my therapy the nurses and doctors will say that my full personality is showing through, and when I smile they feel like they know who I am.  Thing is, there was a personality behind the face the entire time.  It may not have been apparent at the beginning, but it was there. 

So, yes, I am making good strides.  And although others have seen a lot of progress in my recovery, it can at times be difficult for me to see this.  I want my recovery to go faster!  Unfortunately, with a brain injury faster is not how it goes.  Everyone has to wait for different things in life to come to pass.  For some reason I feel like I am supposed to have super-sonic levels of patience.  I know I'll get there, I just want to get there now, but I have to be patient and wait. 

In the meantime I have to remind myself daily how far I have come in my recovery.  The trees get in the way of my view.  I'll just have to climb to the cliff tops to see over those trees to see just how far I have come. 

Friday, July 11, 2014

Five Things I've learned Since Having My Stroke


Patience- I’ve almost grown to hate this word.  I don't want to wait; I want things now.  The reality is that good things come to those who wait.  This journey has tested every fiber of my being.  Time is both a healer and my enemy.  I need it to get better, but I have to endure the long days; some with no progress, others with great strides.
 
 Determination- This is a big one.  I really cannot give up.  If I did, that would mean giving up on Scott and my boys, and that is not an option.  I wake up every day ready to tackle this beast. 

  Love- I've told Scott numerous times that while I may have been on the brink of death as I waited for a bed to open for me at a nearby hospital; I didn't slip away because of him.  I couldn't leave him a widow.  We are both in this for the long haul.  He always assures me that I will not walk this path alone.  He will be by my side holding my hand the entire way.
 
 Inner Strength- This is something I never knew I had.  Actually, we all have it; we just may not realize it until we are put through test.  I'm sure we all have small things we want to tackle; whether that's losing weight, quitting smoking, or having the courage to change jobs.  Look deep within yourself, it's there I promise.  Just remember it's a marathon, not a sprint.  I want to encourage others to take the challenge, and opportunity to take the necessary steps to better your life and become happy and whole.
 
 Gratitude- There are so many things I am grateful for.  Honestly, I'm just grateful to wake up every morning and be alive.  I'm grateful for my friends who have rallied together to support me.  I'm grateful for Scott for everything he does for me, and I'm grateful for my family for helping me in this time of need.  It makes me happy to know that I don't need material things to make me happy.  I'm happy just because.  I read a book once that stated there are three types of people; those who live in the past, those who live in the future, and those who live in present.  I choose to live in the present; it is a gift, after all.

Thursday, July 3, 2014

Angels


I want to talk about angels.  Some believe once we pass from this earth we become an angel.  Others believe loved ones who've passed away become their guardian angel, always looking over them.  Most believe in the standard idea that the roles of angels include protecting and guiding human beings, and carrying out God's tasks. 

This is my story of how I had the unique chance meeting of someone I consider one of my angels. 
 
After I came home from my rehab stay my in laws came to visit us towards the end of May.  One Sunday morning my father in law said he would take me and my oldest son, Carson, to the park.  I had not been outside for a few days, and was looking forward to being out in the sunshine. 
 
I put on my required safety helmet, picked up my cane and the three of us headed to the park, ready to enjoy the beautiful day outside.  My two year old ran about joyfully as his grandfather chased after him, to keep an eye on him.  I did my best to keep up, but it was still a struggle to walk.
 
A little boy was watching me, and finally approached me and asked if I had hurt my leg.  Not knowing how to explain the affects of a stroke to young child, I simply said "yes, I hurt my leg and was learning to walk again."  He seemed to accept this answer as he nodded his head in understanding. 
 
During the conversation my son and father in law had gotten pretty far from me.  I was already tired and running out of steam.  I spotted a nearby bench where a couple was sitting, and asked if they minded if I join them.  They happily made room for me on the bench.  The man sitting there said that I looked familiar to him, and asked me if I had recently been in an accident. 
 
He mentioned I looked like someone who he had transported several weeks before.  My immediate thought was to connect transport with an ambulance.  I asked him if he was an EMT and he said yes, he drove an ambulance.  That’s when it clicked for both of us.  He was the driver of the ambulance that took me to St. Dominics Hospital the day of my stroke. 
 
We spent several minutes talking and I told him about my recovery, and how thankful I was to be alive, and be at the park with my son.  Soon it was time to go home, and I thanked him for his part in saving my life. 
 
The opportunity to actually meet someone who participated in my care really got me to thinking about how we communicate with everyday people throughout our lives.  Be it the lady working the check out at the grocery store, the neighbor across the street, the bank teller etc.  We sometimes forget the people around us are just like us.  They each have a story, struggles, hardships, and triumphs. 
 
It's easy to get caught up in the doings of our own little worlds, but I think it's good to stop and reflect how we interact with others.  That day sitting on the park bench, I could have allowed my struggles, my tiredness, and my frustrations of dealing with the effects of my stroke come to the forefront, and been rude to that man who began asking me questions.  We are all guilty of taking out these feelings from time to time on perfect strangers, and we have all been the recipient of someone doing the same thing to us. 
 
That "chance" meeting with my ambulance driver really made think about how small the world really is, and how a simple act of kindness, be it a smile, or helping someone with a simple task can completely change their day, and even if that comes from a stranger it can make people feel cared for, and brighten their day. 
 
There's a scripture that says "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares."  Be kind to others, you never know....one day they may be the angel who helps you, guides you, or ministers to you.

My Rollercoaster Ride


I am adventerous by nature.  I've done everything from climbing trees, tackling the pool high dive, water skiing, to bungee jumping over the coast of Florida.  Growing up in Texas I spent many summers at Six Flags.  My favorite thrill ride were the rollercoasters.  The bigger and faster, the better!

After my stroke, I would find myself on the biggest rollercoaster of my life.  I can't say it was a fun thrill, but it has definitely been a challenge and my progress during my recovery the thrill. 

After my initial hospital stay and surgery I was admitted to an inpatient therapy facility. I had severe left neglect-paralysis and my balance was very bad.  The facility became the beginning of my rollercoaster ride.  I can't say I felt the same excitement as when I was at Six Flags, but I can say I felt determined. 

My therapist set small goals for me to reach for.  One of these goals was to be able to sit on the side of the bed without falling over.  Seems a simple task doesn't it?  It had become a difficult taks for me being that I did not have full movement or control on my left side.  I've often heard others say "It was so hard to get out of bed this morning."  My physical abilities had reduced that statement to a truth for me. 

The rehab facility had some incredible devices to help people just get out of bed. I'll try to describe the one used to help me.  Imagine a parachute attached to a harness, and me in the harness hovering over my bed.  The nurses would use this to move me from the bed and into my wheelchair. 

During my stay at the rehab, I once had asked a nurse aide to help me go to the bathroom.  She asked me if I could walk, and I told her I could.  Only when I tried to stand (with her assistance) my legs became like jelly.  She positioned me back into my wheelchair and said "I thought you said you could walk."  I told her that at one time I could walk, it was just I had not realized I no longer could.

I didn't want a parachute ride just to get me out of bed.  I didn't want to rely on someone, on anyone to help me go to the bathroom.  I wanted my independence back.  I determined I would become the best rehab patient the therapist had ever seen.  I worked hard to get my body to do the simplist tasks. 

In time I finally got to the point I no longer was dependent on the parachute and harness device.  I was so happy I had outgrown my rehab roller coaster ride.  I could stand on my own and pivot my body.  I really enjoyed showing my "newly" learned skills to my nurses and therapists.  My balance was improving, and I soon began to take steps.  It was a struggle just to place my feet.  It was hard, but I continued to strive forward and take each new small goal and turn them into triumps one by one. 
So, that's one "ride" that was over.  My memories of visits to Six Flags came to mind and I recalled how the rollercoaster operators would say at the end of the ride "Ladies and gentlemen please unbuckle your safety seatbelts and exit to the left."  What's left? I will explain my issues with left neglgect in an upcoming blog.

Friday, June 27, 2014

Motherhood

I've been thinking a lot lately about what it means to be a mother.  According to dictionary.com, motherhood means "it's the state of being a mother." The interpretation of that definition could be as long as it is broad, depending on each individual mom. 

For me, it means creating an atmosphere of teaching, learning, and being supportive throughout a child's life.  Teaching them how to walk; How to feed themselves; How to dress themselves. How to read, and as they grow older, teaching them how to resolve conflicts, to solve problems, to face their struggles head on, and do their very best.  

As a mother I'd be their biggest supporter from taking their very first step, to the second.  To kissing boo boo's, drying their tears, and comforting them when they are afraid, or hurting.  Support them when they begin driving, get their first job, graduate high school, and college, get married, to when they are finally expecting their own first child. 

I'm getting ahead of my years as a mom. My oldest just turned two, and my youngest is only four months old.  I have a lifetime of teaching, supporting, and loving to do.

Let me back up to the summer of '13. I found I was expecting again.  I was so excited, and couldn't help thinking how having a second child would change the dynamics of our household.  My oldest would have a sibling.  My home would be filled with not one, but two little boys filling the house with their laughter, and play.  I looked forward to the pleasant busy life having a family gives.

My delivery came, and we brought our newest family member home.  Then, when he was just 10 days old, I suffered a stroke.  He was seven weeks old when I finally returned home after weeks of hospital, and rehab stays.

My ideas and plans of motherhood were slightly shattered.  I remembered how, with my first child, I was able to hold him, care for him, and witness all the firsts that come with a new baby.  I had felt I had missed so much with our newest baby. 

It gave me great comfort knowing my husband, Scott, had been able to be there for our new baby, when I was not able to do so.

I want what all mothers want.  I want my children to have a happy, safe childhood filled with many wonderful memories.  I want them healthy.  I want them to grow into men who are considerate, and respectful towards others.

I'm still making progress in getting better use of my left arm, and because of this I sometimes feel I am a different mom to our children than before my stroke.  When I look upon their sleeping, peaceful faces, I smile.  This is why I am strong.  This is why I will not give up. This is why I continue to press forward in my recovery.  I have faith in my future, and although I cannot pick them up with both arms, and hold them, I can pick them up, and hold them in my heart.


The heart of a mother, and mine will beat to the rhythm of love to until my last breath. 

Tony

If had to choose one thing about being in the rehab hospital that I strongly disliked, it would be having to go to the bathroom towards the end of each nurses shift.

Daily physical therapy is exhausting.  By late afternoon I was more than ready to go to sleep.  I'd be sleeping soundly and before I knew it there would be a nurse at my bedside insisting I get up and use the bathroom.  I don't know about you, but 4:30am is not a 'time for bathroom break' routine I was used to.

On one such morning a new nurse named Tony awoke me and said "It's time to go to daclub."  That was his fancy way of saying "Get up and go to the bathroom."

Now at a real club, it's both common knowledge, and common practice for the girls to all go to the bathroom together.  It's just what we do.  However, I felt somewhat vulnerable having to go to the bathroom with a male, even if he was a nurse, but assured Tony that although he was my first male nurse, I was okay with his assistance. 

He said to me, that I must not remember him.  He pointed to the pocket on his scrubs, and asked me what did I see there?  I replied with "I see a pocket full of pens." It was then I noticed the name on his pocket.  St. Dominics Hospital.
 
He then told me he was part of my surgical team.  Those memories were a bit hazy for me, so I asked him to fill in the missing details for me. 

He told me on that on Saturday, the day of my surgery, it was his day off.  He was lounging around his house when the hospital called and told him they had a severe case, and would he mind coming in on his day off and assist in the surgery room.  He told the hospital he'd be right there, and it was me who ended up being the severe case. 

He also told me that on that same day another lady about my age came in to the hospital with the same type of brain bleed, but sadly she did not recover, and did not make it.  That hit home, and I again realized how precious and fragile life is, and that sometimes life is shorter than we want.
 
I was truly thankful that Tony agreed to come to work that day on his day off.  He didn't have to, but there was someone (me) who was in need, and that's what good nurses do.

After that morning, whenever Tony was my assigned nurse and would come get me ready to “go to daclub”, I got up and did so without begrudging the early hours, because that's what good patients do. 

Monday, June 23, 2014

My Story

To say that I’m a planner would be an understatement. I plan everything in my life. I always knew I wanted a second baby – and that too was planned. On June 18, 2013, we found out we were pregnant again. I was so excited. I had visions of what life was going to look like with two babies. As my due date drew near and we found out we were having a second boy, I visualized what life would be like around my house. The craziness and chaotic atmosphere of two little boys running around elated my heart. I told my husband all the time that we truly hit the jackpot.

Fast forward to February 18, 2014. I went for my last prenatal visit. This time it was different though. My blood pressure was running slightly high. My OB-GYN told me to check into the hospital because I was having the baby that day. But wait! That’s not how the plan was supposed to go. My son was scheduled to be born February 19th via C-section. I walked out to my minivan sobbing and called my husband at work. I met him at home where I packed my bag, and we were off to meet our second son.

It was hard to wrap my brain around the way things were going to look at home. My son was coming a day early, so I wasn’t quite as prepared as I thought. I recovered quickly from my C-section, and I was home by February 21st. The first week went smoothly. He was such a happy baby – a great baby.

On Wednesday, February 26th, I woke up with a headache. I remember being in my bedroom, and I felt like a bomb was exploding in my head. I called my husband into the room. He told me to lie on the bed. I just kept repeating, “Why won’t the pain go away?” We suspected that it was from the spinal anesthesia, so we called my OB-GYN. She instructed us to get a CT scan immediately and check into the delivering hospital. The CT scan came back “unremarkable.” They pumped me full of magnesium, which is the protocol for high blood pressure. They released me on Thursday afternoon. I felt completely normal again. That night was uneventful.

Friday February 28th was the day that my life changed forever. I woke up and noticed my vision was a little blurry. I took my blood pressure, and it was high. I lay in the bed. It all started happening as it did before. I felt like there was an explosion in my head. My neck became extremely stiff. Pain radiated down my spine. It seemed like my husband was moving in slow motion, and I felt like I was dying. He rushed me to the hospital again. My last memory of that day is walking through the hospital doors. I wouldn’t have my next memory for at least a week.

My next memory was being in a hospital bed with a bunch of tubes hooked up to me. I remember it was very hard to talk, so I had to write everything. Doctors would come in and ask me random questions, like “What day is it?” and “Who is the president?” This is when I learned what happened to me – a post-hemorrhagic stroke due to post-partum eclampsia. I had had a major brain bleed, and the left side of my body was not moving. I had just had a craniectomy. Those tubes in my mouth were a breathing tube and a feeding tube. I was in the ICU.

The ICU was trying to give me enough therapy to get me transferred to a rehab hospital. After 6 days, I was transported by ambulance to an inpatient rehabilitation facility. Luckily, I was at the best rehabilitation center in the state. They had to get me in and out of the bed using a sling. I was completely helpless. Everyone kept telling me, “Cheri, look to the left.” I had severe left neglect. My brain wouldn’t allow me to see things on my left side.

The hospital started therapy immediately. Therapy became my new job. Most days were the same. They would come get me in the morning, put me in a wheelchair, and whisk me off to the gym to do therapy. I made friends quickly, and I would introduce myself with “I’m Cheri, and I should not be able to say about myself that I’m 37 and survived a stroke.” I learned at the hospital that your mindset is your “golden ticket.” I quickly changed my mantra to “I’m Cheri. I’m 37 years old. I survived a post-hemorrhagic stroke, and I will walk again one day.”

I maintained a positive attitude. Sure, it was hard. I was away from my family and could not envision what my life was going to be like. Was I going to be able to take my boys to the park like I thought? This was a hard feeling to overcome.

On day 27 of 30 at the rehab hospital, I began to take my first steps. I had outgrown my sling, and I began transferring myself out of bed and onto the wheelchair on my own. Everyone told me I was making improvements very quickly. I told them I was going to be the fastest person they had ever rehabbed. By the end of therapy, I was walking. It was a miracle. I was a miracle!

On April 4th, one week before I was to be discharged from the hospital, I got the best surprise ever. My mom and sister and two nephews drove from Texas to see me for the weekend. It was great. My sister gave me a pedicure and a manicure. On April 5th, I got the first movement in my left arm. I attribute it to their coming to town.

On April 11, 2014, it was time for me to be discharged. My husband came to pick me up, and I broke out of rehab with my husband driving the getaway car. I was on my way home to see my boys.

I was scared at how life was going to be at home. I was still in a wheelchair. I could not use my left hand. Things went surprisingly well. We began to create a new normal, but it was great to be at home. I had outpatient therapy 3 days a week. More movement came to my left arm, and I got cleared to walk at home with a cane. This gave me much more freedom.


Now I was right back where I belonged. I felt like I had missed out on so much. Things are definitely different than what I thought. My mom always told me life is what’s happening when you’re making plans. I intend to continue to make strides. I will settle for nothing less than who I was before. I have my family and friends to thank for that. Through all of this, I realized I became a person who lives in the NOW and not in the PAST or the FUTURE. And I now know that even the best plan can be broken.