I'm still going through the whole getting disability thing. That means I do a "check-in" with my attorney at least once a month. Well, this month, I was talking to him about anything that could help speed up the whole process and letting him know that my marriage has broken up (it's getting easier and easier to say that). He told me to have my doctor write an "official" letter to him, outlining daily chyallenges due to my disability, the fact that where I once had help, I am now alpne, and what type of professional aid I will need, including how often. Once he has done that, to fax it over to the attorney who will use that information to push for an "emergency hearing" with an administrative judge.

OK, so I called my doctor and asked him to do that for me. Well, I left a message with his nurse about it. Today, my doctor called me back to get some more information and the attorney's address/fax number. He will write me a "strong" letter about my disability and needs so that we can get this over with as soon as possible.

Then it hit me all over again - I am not the person I was before the strokes. I am not "Lydia, the Information Archetect/Database Manager." Not only am I not that person, I never will be again. It's been easy to live with that up until now. I simply didn't think about it (didn't remember to be honest). Now, here it is, in my face again and it hurts all over like it did when I left my job last June.

I immediately called my mother, who told me that I was reacting "perfectly normally for you now," meaning that my panic at not knowing who I am anymore is about par for the course when these things happen. That's part of my disability. I melt down when things don't go the way they are expected. Aparently, she saw this when my grandmother started having strokes, so she understands how to deal with me (and aparently has been telling Laney how to do it too) when I get like this.

While I am calm and mostly in control of myself, the fact that I react like that bothers me. I know it has to do with the way my brain works since the strokes, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. I just have to learn to live with it.

My mother quoted Tea House of the August Moon and told me it is "learning to find peace with myself somewhere between my expectations and my limitations." And she told me that is saomething we all need to work on, even those of us who have not had strokes.