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Lurching about, limping, gimping, and sometimes stumbling inside the house I sometimes feel I am making some progress.


Not so sure when I was still in hospital in rehab and the therapists and nurses constantly warning me about the dangers and probability of a broken hip.  As if a broken hip is a right of passage for stroke victims recovering.


I don't know.


I've been pretty steady inside so far.  There have been times when my balance has been threatened and I have been able to recover, but I know I am going to have to break this habit of leaning on things as I move about, because I keep having visions and perceptions of falling and cracking my melon on something, especially in middle of night when I get up from sleep and go into bathroom across the hall to pee I always instinctively lay the heel of my right hand on the sink right inside the door.


Everything is a balancing act, but I am determined I am going to be walking independently again, eventually, even if I do end up not walking perfectly.


I follow these two physical therapists on Youtube for tips on exercises for foot drop and my left arm and hand, and today, on their recommendation, I shelled out $125 for an ankle brace device that they say will correct that problem, at least artificially.  So, we shall see.


I have fallen down only twice since returning home, both times outside on concrete, most recently on Mothers Day, outside a motel, in the rain, at 6AM.  All I could do was lay there and laugh at the absurdity of it all.


So far I have not suffered any further injuries, but I know I need to slow down when I am scrambling about.


Pre-stroke I had been saving for what I had expected to be a move to a new residence 150miles north of where I am now, but since I am probably going to require some assistance from here on out I have lost hope for independent living and have been throwing money around left and right on crap I know I don't need, but guess I am filling a void to compensate.


Time will tell, I suppose.

Entries in this blog


Good intentions failed, or at least in transitory hiatus.


I had felt fairly confident in my situation immediately following my stroke and recovery.  I am still moderately functional, and with the lifestyle I led pre-stroke being essentially sedentary and reclusive I imagined a post stroke existence not remarkably different.


The mind that perceives is the mind that deceives.  Reality is setting in, with an attitude of vengeance.  The VA approved me for 8 physical therapy appointments, but after 5 visits, thoroughly discouraged and disgusted with myself, I gave up.


I was seeing or feeling no progress, and my therapy was routine and regimented, so I just figure I would save the travel and just do the exercises alone, at home, however,,...


Motivation and self discipline are not playing nice together and I am slipping into a pre-depressive slump of staying up all night binge watching on Prime and Netflix.  My mind admittedly slips toward the abyss leading to that dark place from which return is dubious.


My optimism, good spirits and attitude have deserted me and I have begun contemplating an unsatisfactory future.


Woe is me, but for now I'll make an effort, minute by minute, day by tedious excruciating day, to continue.


That is, for now, my hope.


Isn't it odd, in this time of technological marvel and information overload, that so much of the material we access online is so outdated?


Along with my recent stroke I am also a throat cancer survivor, approaching my 3 year remission anniversary on Sept 29.


I found that when I was first diagnosed and started researching my situation that the majority of the data online regarding  prognosis and such,.. You know, The ultimate question of "how long do I have?" was so outdated.


And I mean really outdated.  Like a decade outdated, according to my doctors anyway, who still to this day warn patients against relying on information gotten from the internet pertaining to nearly anything medical.


Same thing I was told by neurologists at the VA when I was recovering from my stroke.


Doesn't seem fair.


It seems like information would be updated or more current... but yet...I follow a lot of medical journals and medical social media and it seems like even when information from a "new" study is published or posted online, that deeper scrutiny ultimately reveals in many cases that what is being currently posted is really just something that has at it's base a pretty ancient (relatively speaking) point of origin.


Late night/early morning musings.


I have previously mentioned that I have a reclusive nature, but since the stroke I am beginning to realize my perception of my reclusievness was more personal choice than I was admitting to myself.

Now, post-stroke, with my newly acquired limitations of dexterity, I am faced with more a forced state of semi-isolation.


It's an eyeball opener.


I realize now that pre-stroke I still had the choice at any time to venture forth into society, but now that is not the case.  Now I am dependent on a driver to leave home property, and even though I most move freely at home without assistance of cane most of the time hobbling, limping and gimping about, that I lack the nerve or confidence doing so in public.


Thus I rarely go to any location that does not have the little handicapped scooter/cart thingamajiggy.  I do really enjoy these thrice monthly excursions with my sister, but otherwise I rarely anymore leave my room at all other than a few times a week venturing out front to the driveway, which is expansive, and sitting on the veranda just watching nature.


In my room I sit most of the day in front of the window getting plenty of sunshine and fresh air, but little physical exercise..


I have ordered all these physical rehabilitation aides that I never use but I do try to use my hand as much as I can.


Problem is I don't know if I'm coming or going anymore because my schedule has been so compromised.  My sleeps routine has turned into a veritable *beep* show and it is, I have to admit, dragging my spirits down low.  The recent high profile suicides lay heavy on my mind, because I can so relate to the conditions precipitating these sad endings of life.


The only way I can get a restful sleep is to finally in the wee hours of darkness submit to the swallowing of a portion of a Trazadone, maybe half a Vicodin and a muscle re;azer then talking to the magic dragon.


This typically knocks me out until my regular schedule begins with my sister bringing me my every morning two eggs/ smokey link sausage and toast w/jelly and a glass of ice milk.


This rant, if you have not yet figured it out, submitted at 3;30am-ish, is a prelude to my consumption of above and respite from insomnia.


Oi Vey, as they say in the motion picture machines


I went to my first post stroke Neurology consult on Tuesday.  Talked about either increasing Baclofen dosage or prescribing something stronger.  Not sure what, specifically that would be.  Also said they would work on the outpaient physical therapy I've been awating word on.  And ordered a compression glove for the left hand issues.


I'm trying to remain optimistic but honestly, most days I don't leave my room all day other than bathroom trips, unless my sis takes me to Walmart for essentials, usually late at night, which is just spectacular with me.  I do use the wacky tobacco to keep me sane and help me sleep, but otherwise I don't smoke tobacco or drink alcohol, or even coffee.  I been working on future saintdom for many years even though I'm not a "believer" type.  If I am allowed to say such things here.  I know some sites frown on folk like myself.

Ah well, tv awaits...again.


Neurology appointment in 6 hours.  Mind racing, just because.  Sleep elusive.


Woe is me.


Not again this song and dance.  Pervasive, stalking me.


Weariness embraces me but drowsiness escapes me.

Make it stop.  I want off.


I miss sleep.  Deep,undisturbed sleep.






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