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. 

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.

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.