cam1960

I haven't blogged in a long time. I lurk on this board in 'Guest' mode often, feeling neither qualified to offer advice nor humble enough to ask for it. I have been lucky in my recovery. I walk only a bit crooked. I have no 'visible' deficits. People who didn't know me pre-stroke probably think I'm just a slightly whacky old lady. I can no longer do math in my head, or multi-task, or flip my own mattress twice a year like I did before. These things are important to no one but me. Maybe this will be the year I truly accept that fact. 1) I will stop feeling a failure for not recovering completely. I tried my best (still trying) 2) I will stop trying to explain that I am not fully recovered. My friends and loved ones will never understand unless it happens to them (God forbid). 3) I will appreciate my loving husband, and forgive his well intended but irritating advice. (Push-ups? Puhleeeese!) 4) I will allow my grown children to make their own mistakes, and not forever try to save them from themselves. (A MOM thing, totally un-stroke related). 5) I will live each day to the fullest, knowing that I have been given a second chance. Every day post stroke that you're not dead is a bonus. 6) I will forge ahead, looking forward to the great possibilities, not back to what might have been. I will return to this blog to remind myself of these things whenever I start wallowing or stressing out over things I cannot control. 2007 was not a great year for me. I worried and struggled and wasted a great deal of time obsessing over my fate and what I could do about it. 2008 will be MY year. I will take that dream cruise my husband wants to take. I will reorganize my business. I will clean my house (maybe LOL). I will accept the things I cannot change, Change what I can, and maybe even figure out the difference! :Cheers: Carol

Another month, another long rambling blog on the crazy things wandering around in my head! Yesterday I reached my first milestone. I survived my first year post-stroke. I realize the statistics are vague, but making it through that first year, when my risk was highest gives me a little peace of mind . Independence Day has a whole new meaning this year. Not only have I survived, I finally feel as if I've become "me" again. I'm a little slower, but I can face the world on my own terms. Tomorrow I may be weeping in a dark corner again, but for today I'm good. My daughter is getting married on Saturday. It occurred to me just the other day how much it means to her to have me there. These are the things that have real meaning in my life, not my net worth or my messy kitchen. It's the people I love that make my life worth living. I just have to remind myself now and then! I hesitate to mention this, even in my blog, but the loss of one of our members last month affected me deeply. I never even chatted with this sweet lady, but her strength and humor in the face of adversity was so obvious in her posts. I wept when I read about her sudden death. I felt like I had lost a friend. It also made me wonder about those members that just 'disappear' after posting for a while. I had assumed many survivors recovered, moved on, lost interest in their 'past' problems. How many of these have we lost to yet another stroke? I guess we'll never know. I should stop now, before I start crying again. I keep telling myself that! Life is good, we are survivors, it's a holiday, celebrate!

Hi, I had my PFO closed last fall. It wasn't nearly as scary as I anticipated. I was awake, but so sedated I actually enjoyed it! It was like watching a Sci-fi movie. I lay there watching a screen where I could see them running that little wire into my heart. They don't even like to call it surgery, it's a 'procedure'. LOL. There was NO pain involved. I was sore and tired for a little while, but it really put my mind at ease. Glad to know you'll be having this done soon! :Clap-Hands: :hug: Carol

Hi, I feel your pain! I spend too much time in my own head, trying to figure this stuff out. I'm hoping the fact that I'm seeing my 'deficits' more clearly means that I'm better, not worse. :head_hurts: I'm one of those 'invisible' survivors. It's not apparent what's wrong with me, I'm just a bit 'off'. I'm torn between ignoring the whole thing and demanding answers that don't exist. My hubby tells me "I'm fine" too. I never know if I should correct him or leave him blissfully ignorant. Thanks for the great blog, it really helped me today. :hug: Carol

Wow, How eloquently you've put it! You just put into words the way so many of us feel! You should send a copy of this to Strokesmart Magazine. Or better yet, Newsweek. The people who read Strokesmart probably understand already. I truly think part of the reason stroke survivors are ignored is our inability to convey our feelings to the outside world. I'm saving a copy of this poem to my desktop, so I can read it whenever I'm feeling alone. Thanks so much for sharing, :hug: Carol

Eleven months ago, to the day, I had my "little episode" as I like to call it. You would think after all this self-analysis I could feel comfortable in my role as Stroke Survivor, but I'm still a work in progress. My blogging is sporadic, mostly when I've spent too much time in my own head and need to gain some perspective. (That's one of my favorite terms 'perspective' :blush: ) Everyone around me has accepted me the way I am now. My husband is patient with my tiredness, my kids are more helpful, my friends take me as I am. So why can't I? People say this is a time to stop and smell the roses, to slow down and appreciate things. But I was no ball of fire to begin with! I always spent time with my kids, enjoyed my garden, pursued my hobbies. It's just harder now. I keep trying to 'fix' myself and it's not working. This past week I found some new websites and was quite gung-ho on self-improvement. One interesting site showed a method of visualization, where concentrating on movement during therapy helps the brain reconnect. Fifteen minutes of watching my left foot gave me a headache One of the forums here mentioned a site that had brain exercises, so I had to jump in. The exercises were great, but then I had to venture to the "dark side". I couldn't resist the IQ section. First I used their calculator to estimate my former IQ, based on my SATs. Then I tried their IQ test to reassure myself. Wrong! According to them I have lost over 20 points I know, I know, those numbers don't mean anything! But going from a respectable 139 to an 'adequate' 117 brought me to tears. I am still my own worst enemy. I count my blessings and then shoot myself in the foot. Maybe next month after I've reached the magical one year anniversary, I will be able to gain this elusive acceptance that lurks beyond my grasp. Til then I'll just go back to my garden and smell my roses

Hi Louise, So sorry for what you and your husband are going through! When I was in a rehab hospital last summer, I felt the same way. I was 46, and everyone around me was over 70. I was a little too selfish at that point to see that I was far luckier than them. I felt like I had been thrown aside like an old shoe! It's terrifying to be 'put away' (my warped view at the time). The doctors can't say if or when you'll recover. I had no idea what was in store for me. I honestly wanted to jump out the window. Lucky thing they keep those suckers locked. I was a mess. It was only after some time in therapy that I realized I wasn't stuck there for life. Youth (relative) was in my favor and I walked out in a few weeks. If your hubby is like me, he may have some emotional issues too. It's hard to see things clearly in that position, especially when your brain has been under attack! The best you can do for him is offer comfort and reassurance. His anger is at himself, not at you. He probably fears you will get tired of this and find some nice healthy guy! (That was always a neurotic fear of mine) Many hugs to you and your hubby, it will get better! :hug: :hug: Carol

Hi Kelly, Glad to hear you're having your PFO closed. I had one and the procedure gave me a lot of peace of mind. It seemed scary having someone poking around in my heart, but it wasn't that bad. If you've given birth 4 times, a heart catheter is a piece of cake! :big_grin: Let us all know how you're doing afterward! Good luck, :hug: Carol

Again into the abyss! It's been almost a month, I guess one meltdown per month is not too bad. Must be the hormones. I see now why pride is one of the mortal sins. Mine is literally killing me. I never realized how high on my horse I was until I began the descent. I always knew I was not a beautiful woman. I was not ambitious, talented or even athletic. But I was always just that little bit smarter than the average. I was in that "Top 2%" in all those achievement tests in school. I hugged my SATS close like a talisman, even though I never bothered to go to college. I was so smug. All those pretty girls would get old and ugly, but I would always have my superior brain. Hah! Guess I was not quite as smart as I thought. I have always been an independant person. I viewed the world in black and white. There were those of us who could cut it in the world and those who couldn't. Givers and Takers. I was a giver. I was too good to need anything from the world. I helped my mother with her housework when she couldn't do it anymore. I helped my father when he was alone, although looking back I guess he hated it as much as I do now. When my husband, children, inlaws, friends needed help, I never thought twice. So why is it so hard to feel needy now? I have viewed religion with a sort of benign neglect. It was fine if it made people happy, but it was not for me. My spiritual life has been totally introspective. I have never found one single road better than the rest, so I've gone my own way. I only point this out because of an incident this past weekend that I am having trouble coping with. My porch roof started sagging after the nasty ice storm in february, and the Boro sent me a notice to get it fixed. After a lot of paperwork haggling, I got the materials and my sons and thought I had it covered. I didn't (surprise) The nails were too short, the electric saw was dull, there were bugs in the plywood and my sons were at each others throats. I could have done the whole darn thing LAST spring. I've done roofing before (don't ask). But now I have such vertigo I can't even stand on a slope, let alone on a roof. I was at my wits end, but felt confident I would figure something out. I live in a very small town full of very nice people. I am not very social as a rule, but am casually acquainted with many neighbors. I suspect my problems are no big secret in the community. While I was trying to plan my next move, my son encountered a very sweet lady who came across the street and introduced herself. She was with the Methodist church up the street. She saw my poor son up there on the roof by himself and offered the services of the church to help out. What a sweet lady! What generous neighbors! Why did her offer make me break into tears? Why is it so much easier to offer charity than to accept it? How do I graciously accept the help of well intentioned people when I need it? Perhaps I have finally come to face the true meaning of acceptance. It is not something I can 'beat'. I can not 'succeed' at acceptance. I can only take it for what it is. Carol P.S. I usually blog only when I need to vent. I'm not really as crazy as I sound :head_hurts:

Hi Dickons, Another worry wart here! This may sound corny. I've never been a new age kind of person, but I found that yoga helped me relax. I hate the fact that anxiety sometimes gets the better of me. I was a very 'in control' person pre-stroke, but afterward I couldn't sleep because my mind would race uncontrollably. A nice little stretch before bed has done wonders for me. Hope it helps! :hug: Carol

Over a month since my last blog entry, and I have to gain some perpective. This whole short term memory loss thing is such a pain! I feel like I'm stuck between two worlds. Am I recovered? Am I making progress? Am I disabled and doomed to a 'lesser existance'? Got me! Some days I feel like my old self. Then I get out of bed . My husband seems to think I am fine, just a bit tired. I swear sometimes he thinks I'm just making it up for sympathy. Some days I walk almost straight. others I stagger like a drunk. I must be exagerating, right? I don't have any "real" problems. When I try to talk to my family or friends about my mental difficulties, I always hear "Oh that happens to me too, It's just middle age". Apparently middle age slapped me in the face coincidentally about the time of my stroke. I saw my doctor this week. She is a sweetie and always tells me how much I've improved and how well I've taken it. But as far as recovery? As she put it, I'm in a 'different place' in my life than I was. Acceptance would be a lot easier if I knew what I was supposed to be accepting. I don't know how far I've come because I can't remember how I felt last week! How do you quantify your mental abilities? Especially when you can't tell what they were like yesterday? I want a blood test that tells me what my brain is doing. If I had diabetes, I could test my blood sugar. If I had high cholesterol, they could give me a number. If my heart weren't working up to par, they could test that too. Maybe I should develop a test of my own. How many times did I forget what I was doing today? How many times have I driven along and suddenly, just for a moment, forgotten where I was headed. How many words could I not grasp in a conversation? Of course I would probably forget to take the test! My medical plan has a special 'support' system for clients with medical problems. They enrolled me when I was diagnosed with depression and had my heart fixed. Of course they have no support for stroke victims! If I wanted to quit smoking, they are there for me! But as a survivor of stroke, I guess we are just beyond help and might as well be tossed on a pile in the corner. I know how foolish it is, but every time I'm bombarded with TV ads about heart disease, breast cancer, every other problem known to man, I wonder what about us? Are we really that invisible? I know I never knew anything about it til it came to my doorstep. On Monday I will be 47 years old. I tend to view time based on that, so the 'year I had my stroke" is over as far as I'm concerned. Most years are good ones, with just a bad apple every so often. So my resolution is to look forward at all cost. I may not be the woman I once was, but I'm still me. I have come through the fire and moved on with just a few scars. Perhaps it has made a better person of me. Peace Carol :giggle: