Labor Day weekend I had a minor stroke. My husband called 911. I rode in an ambulance to the hospital. Once I got there, they took very good care of me, other than serving breakfast too late. (I’m used to an early breakfast.)
I had the best therapists in the world, and am out of the wheelchair and can walk with the help of a cane. (The picture above is at the Memphis Zoo, just before Halloween. Our insurance wouldn’t cover a home health aide, so my husband is my primary caregiver.
Downside: my concentration and short-term memory are shot. Don’t know when or if they’ll come back. My left arm is more decorative than useful, so driving remains a long-term goal.
Upside: I’ve been out of diapers since October or November. Thanks to my speech therapist, I can speak reasonably intelligibly. I recently submitted a poem to Cricket and a short story, “The Lizard-Men from Outer Space to B Cubed Press’ Tales of the Space Force. I also completed a fantasy story, “Trolls are Different” to accompany my application for the SLF Older Writers Grant.
Since I am unemployed and unemployable at present, I’ve resolved to work on my writing more seriously. My Iron Writer Quarterly Goals are to
- write and submit three stories, one per month.
- Blog weekly. (which is why you’re reading this)
- Exercise my left arm and eventually regain the use of it.
That last one may be a long-term goal rather than a quarterly goal.
People keep reminding me that I’m doing much better than other stroke survivors. That at seven months, many stroke survivors aren’t able to get out of bed yet. I may be complaining of all the things I can’t do yet as well as minor pain, but most stroke survivors have it worse. And I’m still on the right side of the dirt: I’m not dead yet.
with a cane. After reciting “eleven benevolent elephants” more times than any sane person should, I can speak reasonably Thanks to the efforts of my speech therapist, I can spe However, my concentration is shot, as is my short term memory. My left arm is more decorative than functional. I am learning to do things one-handed. The PBA was the worst of the side effects (uncontrolled crying jags and laughing fits). Diaper rash was the second worse. Luckily, shortly after I learned to change my own diaper, I graduated to being able to go to the bathroom by myself.