What can I say? You don't want to have a stroke, even if you like PT. There are days that I don't mind anything. Then there are days that I hate everything. It all depends on how much sleep I've been getting. If I've gotten plenty of sleep, then I'm grateful and happy to be alive. If I haven't gotten enough sleep, then life is awful and all I do is cry. Or fall. Or both. It all depends on the sleep thing. Lyndsay, my Occupational therapist from the Center, once said that I was a sensitive soul. I am, to a certain extent, but once I've crossed that extent, watch out! I once cried at the local coffee shop because I couldn't walk through the door with only one cane. What I hadn't figured out yet was that I was very tired that particular day, so of course I cried; it was only a matter of time. I just wish someone had told me about crying being linked with fatigue so I wouldn't have had to figure it out in such a public setting. At least, I would have been sure to stay home that day!
On the other hand, my relationship with my husband is now much better than it was. He still plays with his computer a lot and he's a different parent for Ellie than I used to be, but we spend more time together because we have to. We talk more (such as my talking is these days). He drives me to and from all my therapies, and often stays during them as well. It's amazing what you can say on a short car ride. But that's a good thing that came from the stroke, and so is the truth of that old saying, 'Time heals all wounds,' because I don't remember how things used to be any longer. The new house that we bought has no memories in it for me. It's true, I can't find anything, and friends stopped coming to visit about three months after we got home, which I expected because of having to recover mostly alone from two heart surgeries, but no memories of things meant a lot fewer crying spells, which was always okay with me. It was only a plus that no one was around to see the crying spells that I did have.
The only thing I ever really cried about was a desire to be 'normal' again. I wanted to walk, to drive a car, to help out around the house, to have a job, to not go to therapy all the time, and definitely not to have 'Stroke Victim' stamped on my forehead. I didn't want it to be a big deal if I walked all the way to the doctor's office from the parking lot, or if I typed everything instead of writing it out longhand. I wanted to be like everybody else, but I'm sad to say that I didn't always work at that miracle; therapy became a burden, even to me, and I stopped practicing so much at home. I would much rather read or write than practice. Not to say that therapy completely lost its appeal, but just that I grew tired of doing it all the time. Everything was always so hard that making it hard on purpose no longer made much sense. I would much rather enjoy my freedom than practice a move for the millionth time.
But this lack of practicing didn't come without a price. My improvement was much slower after I returned home, and partly because of that, I chose not to return to work. The thought of climbing two flights of stairs just to reach my office on the third floor is sometimes nauseating, and dealing with students who have little hope of understanding what I have to say has lost its appeal. I can only take just so much browbeating. (Plus, losing my free time to grading papers is really unappealing!)
So I stayed home, and no one argued with me. If I couldn't enjoy my free time by having a stroke, then when could I enjoy it? But at the same time, life wasn't always a ray of sunshine, either.
We had difficulties with every agency you can imagine; insurance companies, tax agencies, credit agencies, even dental agencies. And if the problems weren't enough, Ellie was sure to spill something on my computer keyboard and ruin the entire laptop computer. The only advice I can give is to tape record every phone call you get, because people will take advantage of you if you let them, and to set aside money for unexpected things like a new computer. Otherwise, stay cool, and don't get too stressed out. It isn't worth it.
So, what have I personally learned from the stroke? I've learned a lot, but mostly that it's better not to depend on anyone besides yourself, walking and talking are worth everything, therapy really works, food is better than you think it is, and coffee rules. (Such a list of learned items would naturally be completely different for every individual stroke survivor.) Otherwise, I just spend my time recovering, losing my balance and falling over to hit my head, and writing a lot of useless fanfiction that no one will ever read. In the meantime, I listen, learn, cough, and blow my nose. Elegant, huh? There are no secrets, and I should be more grateful to be alive than I am, but as I often told my students when I was still teaching 'no one ever does what they 'should' do.' The anniversary of my stroke is in two days, appropriately enough, and the irony is amazing. By all rights, I shouldn't even be here, but since I am, I plan to write much more, and enjoy myself. Though some days aren't good at all, on the whole, life is pretty darned descent. On those tiring days when all I do is fall, and the house is a complete mess, I try to keep my perspective on life, maintain my sense of humor, and remember that it really does all depend on how much sleep I get the night before.. and if I wear your seat-belt.