Next month is my survival anniversary number 4!
I wonder why I survived. As you know, I have had pain every day since the stroke. A variety of numbers on the pain scale, a variety of descriptor words, a variety of coping,treatments,including topical cream with gabbapentin in it, spinal stuff, biofeedback, opiates, therapy, relaxation, spiritual belief,and of course last but not least ice cream.
I was advised to think of this as my purgatory. Is this a punishment? How can I believe that, it does not fit my beliefs.
On any anniversary, I take stock, think about what changes, how far have I come, how does reality meet expectations, what do I celebrate? What do I strive for, do I still hope?
That is too much to think about, I simply continue ahead. I bless my doctors now that help me. I know it is in God's hands.
I talk to my best friend about it all. girl talk. heart open wide. one day, I was very positive and grateful , looking at it all with a hopeful spin, and my bestie dealt me a blow that floored me. She said, and I quote, "who would want to be you,look at where you live, you can't even take care of yourself."
Looking at that quote chars my soul.
I burst into tears, no it was more like a primal sob that resounded through me into the universe.
It is all true. Honestly even I do not want to be me. But who I am makes a difference even now I believe.
I have deficits, but I have abilities.
I miss the original me, of course. I hide now, ashamed of what has become of me. I rejoice in recovery, but know I am now always battling to survive. I have health problems that hound me.
I packed up all I owned and gave away everything before going into long term care. It was heart breaking. But it helped me survive in my circumstances. I felt betrayed by life itself. No one should have to pack up a whole life, as if I was deseased, except I was doing the work of eliminating all that was my life. But yes, I am no longer able to support, work, take care of myself.
God spared my cognition. I wondered why. But it left me as me. Thank you.
I am not alone in shouting inside in a rage of pity party. I read stories here and know I got off easy.
But I know the truth. I celebrate the positive. but to the others in my old life, yet untouched, it looks like nothing to celebrate. While others have miracles, maybe better off than before their injury in health, well that is not me.But I am not a worthless Being now. I am still a Person. I still Cry, still love, still live.
I lost my life. I lost people,places,and things. But I am strong in my faith that says I am now blessed,reborn.
I do not know if blocking contact with this long friendship is over reacting as I do since stroke. It seems no one stops to think how telling me what is true, is also not true. And my physical pain is nothing compared to my heartache.
I am avoided, but I hid too because awkward interactions, not belonging any more, isolated in a crowd, stranger to my own family, alone in an institution but granted compassion from strangers sometimes.
They send a normal person to engage in therapeutic talk. How can anyone normal possibly know. I think of families that lost homes in fire. They say at least we have our health, each other. And my friends with illness or death that struck, say at least they could be home.
I am grateful for living where I am supposed to be now,for the help I recieve, for the lives I meet, for those who comfort me,try to keep me comfortable and alive.
I decided to give my body to science. I enrolled in the body donation program at my hospital. I like what they do for science,for people, and so I figure I can contribute rather than wasting the chance when there is a need for donors. I was going to donate organs, but illness changed me, so I changed how I will give myself away. I accept that someday I will die, which gives me the power,will,joy to live,be alive fully.
my days may seem futile, but they are my days. I rest, enjoy hobby, talking to people. I wonder.
strokeland is not on the map. our culture is strange,unique,variety of ways, unknown even to those who study it.
Some who study it, eventually live it,nd can speak to us,help us understand a new planet.
I still am horrified at it all, and usually I spare others from speaking of unpleasantries. Yet others will come this way and need a guide,a role model, a path. Someone else may be a me.
I know I have used this site to follow others who have lived any form of this.
I am sick of feeling ashamed of pain, of disability, of unlucky. The worst is when they say, you so young, why it happen, if only you had prevented it, .......all thos innocent,ignorant true horrible things.
I am pressured to be silent,to be positive,to never show weak, which is pain. well, pain is not for the weak. we, who hurt constantly,not chronically, are strong.
But I am me, and sometimes I am not loving this version, but it is not a version, it is me. And I am incredibly proud of me. And I know I am loved and waited for.