Chapter 4. Stroke Recovery Began with Mary Poppins arriving.
By end of March, we were desperate for a holiday but I was due back in the hospital for my 3-month review with the Stroke Consultant. What on earth can go wrong before then, we foolishly thought to ourselves? So we decided to go to London for a “staycation” weekend before I was due to see the doctor. On a Saturday night, Jamie took me to an expensive restaurant in Aldwych, as a celebration meal……..
The most delicious looking dessert was brought to our table after a wonderful meal. All of a sudden, I am telling Jamie to call an ambulance. Suddenly, completely out of the blue, I felt so intensely ill that my only conclusion was that I must be having another Stroke. That’s all I remember. Down I went like a sack of potatoes in front of all the cool, hip Londoners who were staring at me in horror. I was carried to a private area and an Ambulance was called for. An advanced trained paramedic was the first to arrive at the scene, on a motorbike. These motorbike paramedics are for only but the most serious emergencies. I was out cold. I personally never got to meet him but Jamie tells me he was very serious and very efficient.
I come back “online”/awake just as the ambulance is pulling into UCLA hospital. I had been blue lighted. I was deemed to be an “emergency” case and I can’t begin to imagine what it must have been like for Jamie watching the A&E nurse and doctor taking over from the paramedics. A Stroke Nurse was already waiting for me to begin the Stroke Assessments. Poor Jamie looked on; helpless and powerless to do anything. I went through yet another set of physical and mental Stroke tests.
I had every Stroke test going under the sun that Saturday night, mercifully all coming back normal. I stayed the night on the Acute Stroke ward at UCLA for observation as a precaution. The London doctor concluded in the morning that it was a Vaso-vagal (a “faint”) and no one knows why it happened that night.
Jamie was so afraid that night, that he admitted to me that he made a prayer to God. He prayed to Him to keep me safe. He made a vow that he would come to Church and give thanks if I was to return to normal health one day. Pretty hardcore for dear Jamie — given he’s an atheist and holds a Masters in Physics from a redbrick university, so he must have been truly terrified of losing me. (Jamie believes in tangible Science!)
On Sunday, we head back home to the North. On the train, Jamie is tired, pale and quiet. He looked as if he had been awake all night. Many months after this- he told me that the rapid response paramedic had told him that it was a real possibility that I had had another stroke.
On the Monday, Jamie decided to work from home. I was in bed resting and I could hear him out on the bedroom landing talking on the phone.
“I’ll come pick you up. What time? Great. Yes- I will. Ok. See you then. Safe Travels. Bye”.
He pads over to the bedroom, comes in and sits down on the end of the bed. He curls his toes under the bed and tucks his hands under his knees.
“Who was on the phone?”
He sighs. He looks small with his shoulders hunched over and looking tired.
“I need help Soph. I can’t work 60 hour weeks and keep my eye on you.
WE need help. It’s all become too much. What with your heart procedure in June, the migraines, then your Stroke…. seeing you go out cold like that on Saturday……” he breaks off.
For the first time, I can see how much the past 3 months of me being absent, living down in the rabbit hole, has affected him. The pause of silence hangs in the air between us.
“It’s O.K. I understand.”
He drops his head into his hands, covering his face. I know he’s trying not to cry. I don’t say anything as I know he would only deny it. Jamie is the strong, silent type. He is always calm, collected and well-measured. He is highly intelligent and good at fixing problems. He is the Yin to my Yang. It pains me to see him like this. If he is admitting to the fact that we need help, then he must be right.
It’s time to bring in a Professional.
It’s time for my Mother to arrive.
“Cooper me finger all what lies in store, for I have a feeling what’s about to happen…all happened before”….
On a blustery spring evening, my” Mary Poppins” arrived. My mother blows in from Australia, changing the directions of the wind with her. She was to stay for six weeks.
She prescribed a daily dose of routine and structure. There was a new order for healing the chaos of my broken brain. It was to be the spoonful of sugar to help the medicine go down. It was an important factor of what my Stroke-Broken- Brain needed for the process of healing to begin. She cooked three, regular, healthy, yummy home cooked meals a day. Porridge always for breakfast! I remember there being a lot of fish and walnuts too, as she had read that walnuts were good for recovery after brain damage. Meals were set to regular meal times. No excuse for skipping a meal.
There was daily rest time, “a quiet hour after lunch”. I would lie down on the sofa, or go on my bed for a nap after every lunch. There was absolutely no excuse for no nap to happen. (I wouldn’t even dare to try it on anyway with Mary Poppins!). Sometimes, she would wrap me in a big furry blanket on the sofa and quietly shut the door behind her, as I closed my sleepy eyes. Just like she use to do when I was a toddler. After nap-time, we had afternoon outings together.
They were simple outings that I could manage and emotionally handle. One time, we went to see the Roald Dahl and Quentin Blake exhibition in town. Another time, we went to the seaside to have a coffee with my friend, who brought her cheerful two dogs with her. We went to go see Beauty and Beast; which was easy for my child like brain to digest. As we came out of the cinema afterwards, she talked about all the children films that she took my brother and I to go see when we were small.
I was taken back to the basics of a strict toddler’s routine. In particular, I had a strict bedtime routine again. It hadn’t occurred to me to adhere to a routine for myself — I was too ill to think logically and too busy trying to pretend that I was “fine” and “normal”. The night time routine went like this;
6 pm. I watch” In the night Garden” (please don’t judge me- it helped to soothe my broken Brain, OK?!) whilst my Mum would cook the supper. Jamie would be home for 7 pm. We all ate together at the kitchen table. I would then go upstairs, shower and change into my pyjamas. Bed was at 10pm. “Lights out” was at 10.30pm sharp. I slept for around 10–11 hours straight during this time. I began to feel stronger every day.
I strongly believe that this routine and structure that my Mum gave me were a vital part of my recovery. Routine. Routine. Routine. I know, now, that the worst thing that I could have done for those first three months before she arrived, was trying to pretend that I was “fine”. I wasn’t fine and it was only until April/May did things begin to improve and I had my Mum looking after me. She was a huge part in my recovery. I shall cherish those memories of her being here with me when I was ill and we ended up having a great time together.
The Stroke left behind some nasty graffiti “tags” emotionally speaking. It left behind raw emotions that weren’t pleasant and challenging. Anger and Depression were the biggest two.
So whilst I was successfully out of the rabbit hole; I was heading straight onto the roller-coaster ride of emotions…..Hang on tight — this is going to be quite a ride folks!
