Chapter 6. Sunrise after Stroke. Healing Begins.
After the disastrous walking holiday, I realized things had to change. It had been good for me to be around women of my age. A mirror had been held up to my face, and I had seen how stagnant and out of shape I had become.
I had an epiphany that things weren’t going to change on their own. I recognized that I had to do something about it. It was up to me.
I didn’t want the Stroke keeping me in the shadows forever. I didn’t want to be living this “half-life” anymore. It wasn’t fair to my family and friends. I wanted to be up running with the pack again and keeping up, and at that time I thought this would bring me happiness.
It was time for me to put on my boxing gloves and to fight back. In October 2017, the score from the internal boxing match was “Stroke 3. Sophie 0.” With hindsight, I could see that I hadn’t fought back at all before October. I had been passively standing there in the boxing ring; letting it beat the crap out of me. I had been accepting of the situation and just rolling with the punches.
Now I was ready; I wanted this match. I don’t think I have ever felt so determined to turn things around.
The first hurdle was to tackle my weight gain. It was an obvious physical flagship to the outside world that something was wrong with me. A sensitive issue for all women! (Even now, this is not easy for me to write about and I wish I could skim over it. However, it was a huge part of me taking back control of my life; so, I shall squirm my way through it.)
As I have previously mentioned, I had put on over 2 stone. 2 Stone 6lbs to be precise and I had gone up 3 dress sizes to boot. And I wasn’t even skinny before the stroke! I wasn’t “fat”, but I wasn’t exactly “thin” either.
At my 6-month Stroke review (which was on the Monday after the walking holiday) I brought up my weight gain with my Stroke Consultant. She agreed to give me medical permission to start losing the weight; if I promised her I would do it slowly and healthily. I went to go see my GP; we spoke more about the importance of my brain receiving all the nutrients it needed for me to continue to make a full recovery. No fad diets or ones that cut out certain food groups. So, before weight loss could begin, my bloods were checked to make sure everything was within a normal range. When I received the results to say everything was okay, I was exhilarated!
However, I had no idea how I was going to lose this weight. It was overwhelming as there was so much confusing information out there. Once again, my Marie Curie Nurse friend came to my rescue. She recommended that I try Slimming World.
To me, she was a lighthouse in my darkest hour; shining her light out onto the black, tumultuous, stormy seas of the stroke; helping me to swim safely back to the shores of health.
On Nurse friend advice, I joined Slimming World. Within 10-weeks I had a lost a stone. By April 2018, it was a stone and a half. Some of my old clothes were starting to fit me again. I was on a sensible, slow food plan and I made some great new friends along the way.
It’s proven to be a long road. Even now, I still have the other stone to go, but I’m at peace with that. The rest of the weight will come off when I’m ready to take that last step. As I keep reminding myself, I’m lucky to be alive, back in my body and it can physically get me from A to B. I got myself back into the water again too, which is something that I have always loved to do. I swam slower than a Granny in a flowery pink swimming cap bobbing along in the slow lane, but I couldn’t care less! I even started to do Aqua aerobics with the over 60s and loved it.
I hired a patient and understanding personal trainer, and we did simple exercises; slowly walking on the treadmill and me continuing to regain my co-ordination skills by throwing gym balls at each other. It was all a little frustrating and panic-inducing in the beginning, but it was better than nothing.
I summoned up the courage to go back to Yoga. I had always been very flexible and found it easy to do pre- stroke. Nearly immediately after the stroke, however, I naively went to a yoga class thinking it would help relax me. I was unprepared for my complete lack of co-ordination and dizziness in that class. I fell over so many times that I ended up walking out, too embarrassed by not even being able to do simple postures. It had shocked me how bad my balance was and how easily I became dizzy. Terrifying.
After that humiliating Yoga class, it took me a year to face another yoga class. I was still wobbling all over the place, but I didn’t fall over. I kept turning up to class, stubbornly, refusing to let it get the better of me. I’m still trying — even today. Still trying.
The next punch that I whacked back in my internal boxing ring, right on the stroke’s chin, was me returning to work. The Stroke Consultant agreed, saying I could return to a part-time job if I really wanted to, which I desperately did, and she wished me well. She had called me “determined”; saying I probably wouldn’t have listened to her anyway.
When I told her about my walking 2017 holiday, she simply asked me in a calm, authoritative voice,
“And at what point did you think that would be a good idea, without consulting me? Less than a year from a stroke and you’re out roaming around Hadrian’s Wall like a wild goat. Honestly Sophie!”
I was offered a part-time nursing job at a local hospital in an outpatient’s dept. It felt like things were becoming “normal” again and everything was finally clicking into place at long last. My husband and I had a toast on New Year’s Eve, 2018 firmly believing it was going to be a great year. A year of total recovery as I, joyfully, sipped on my glass of ice-cold champagne. It was going to be great!
Or so I thought. But that’s the funny thing about life, isn’t it? Just as soon as us mere mortals think we’re in control, The Gods cast their die once again, and our fate is decided.
To put it plainly, the nursing job was a disaster for me. Just when I thought I was getting my life back — My depression hit right back at me with a decisive blow. The accomplished feeling that I had felt on New Year’s Day 2018 was short-lived. I only worked in that nursing role for 9 months. Even now, I have no idea how I muddled my way through it and lasted as long as I did.
I feel that the job exasperated my anxiousness onto a new level. It was too much pressure, and I couldn’t cope with all of the demands of a nurse. Part-time hours were increasingly turning into pretty much full-time hours, and I was reminded of all the stress that comes with a nursing job. It brought about an anxiety that I had never known before. This wasn’t depression as such, this was a constant feeling of anxiousness, and my Post-Stroke Fatigue was rearing its sleepy head again.
It became physical. I had this feeling of rushing water in my ears so I felt like I couldn’t hear what people were saying to me. I would wake early in the morning with what felt like a brick on my chest and in a panic that something was wrong, very wrong but not knowing what. I had to sit upright in bed and breathe deeply to slow down my racing heart. A feeling of being in a constant state of high alert, it’s as if you’re about to take an exam that you haven’t had time to study for.
I had been hoping to use this job as a stepping stone to get back into my main passion which was palliative care nursing but in my heart of hearts; I knew that my nursing days were over.I was worn out by it all. I didn’t have the stamina, physically, mentally or emotionally to be a nurse anymore. It was apparent that if I couldn’t cope with the demands of this outpatient job; then I certainly wasn’t going to be capable of hospice nursing and completing the long 12-hour shifts like I used to.
When I fainted on an extra shift that I was covering, I realised it was beginning to affect my physical health, and I knew that I had to call it a day.
They were sad to lose me and tried to keep me in the job, but I couldn’t keep going- my dream of nursing was over.
I had to find a new path in life. I still feel so proud to have been part of one of the hardest working, dedicated professions in the world but it wasn’t for me anymore. The stroke had taken care of that. Sometimes it’s painful to let things go but it was the right thing for me to do.
My father always used to write to me before exams, “It’s always darkest before dawn”. I had no idea, then, just how glorious the new dawn was going to shine onto me. But at that moment in time, when I handed in my notice at work, it felt very dark and like I was going backwards, not forwards.
I had taken massive leaps forwards; by joining Slimming World and making new friends, going back to the gym under supervision and attempting to return to Nursing. I just needed to see it for myself and trust that the dawn would come and there would be sunnier days ahead.
If you liked this post and want to read more, chapter 7 is now live!
