Strokes are for older folks
Just another morning. I get in the shower to get ready for work, and the conversation I was having with my partner, she no longer understands. My words are slurring as if I were wasted. She begins by asking me if I'm OK. While I attempt to reply to her querry with the jibberish now spouting from my mouth, I too finally realize that something is wrong. Still in the shower I am oddly afraid of standing there, yet I need help to sit myself down in the tub. I feel so sure that I will fall and injure myself that once she sits me on the floor of the tub, I do what most of us have done when we were little. I try to get out of the tub on my hands and bottom. The only problem is that I cannot hold my weight on my arms. So I am assisted to the edge of the tub where I work to dry myself off. Once done, I stumble to the bedroom to dress after arguing with my partner that she will NOT call 911 because I am OK. Meanwhile it only took me about five minutes to actually tie my shoes (it was VERY difficult), more difficult than I thought it would be, because I was "OK" right? I was obviously not OK and when the medics arrived, I did walk, with my arms over both of their shoulders to the ambulance. Why does a police officer need to be there as well? I don't know.
Now I only remember bits of this story until a few days later, BUT the doctor was asking me if I wanted to be a part of some blind trial. Know what? I didn't have a clue. The very LAST time that you want to question a person about their thoughts on "trial procedures" is when they are already mentally unable to think. i am SO thankful that my Partner was there, I was being asked questions that I could not understand. It was as if I were "dropped off" in another country where I didn't know the language. She saved my life, as piss poor as I believe it now is.
I do remember many people passing my bed while still incoherent. I was on my belly, and Mrs,company owner was at the end of my bed. It was one of the few memories that I retained.
After 5-ish days in ICU, I got transferred upstairs into a shared room. Then, the next morning a Doctor came while I was having breakfast with my partner, and said "Mr Hawk? I didn't expect to see you this way after viewing your scans.
That was almost four years ago....
Now, nearly all I think about is how much better/ or worse I would be without my left foot. I "lived in flip flops" at home, before. Now I can't keep that fucker from flying across the room ahead of me. The nail on my big toe will soon fall/tear off due to the injuries I continue to cause while climbing stairs, and stabbing that SOB directly into the stair risers.
I have callouses on the sides of my toes because they will not stop cramping, and turning sideways. So now, every day, I base my "happiness" on how badly that foot hurts during/after work. Which is why I sometimes think that, if it were replaced with an artificial foot.... and there was no more pain, that my work/life would be sooo much easier to continue.
You know ?!
I keep thinking that if this had happened when I was in my teens, OR waited until I was in my 70/80's, that it would have been so incredibly easy to adjust to, since in my teens, the brain can compensate much more easily, .. at 70/80 It doesn't matter as much... life has been lived, and "i can deal with this".