Post-Stroke Mumblings —Part 1
Not superwoman anymore
After my surprise stroke on June 1st of this year, life got different.
June 1st was a rather hot day, about 35 degrees C. So we had stopped work early. I drove back from the client, dropped off my helper, Mel, and came home for lunch.
After lunch I had a few things I wanted to tidy up so that work could begin on adding a wooden edging to the boulevard. I recall feeling very hot, and pretty low energy.
Anyway, I wanted to make sure the workmen could easily get the work done, so was moving some stones off to one side.
I had moved almost everything and was just getting the last couple of stones when I suddenly felt my legs turn to rubber.
I was standing on the path to our front door, with the stones in hand, and realized my legs were actually going to give way. Somehow I managed to get myself off the path and onto the grass beside it, at which point I went down like a proverbial ton of bricks.
I recall thinking, “##***$#, I am going to go down” as I hit the grass first with my butt, following up with the back of my head, which hit the grass so hard it gave me a mild whiplash.
I may have passed out momentarily.
In any case I lay there on the grass for a few seconds feeling very stunned. Where I fell is hidden from the street, and the one person who would have seen me crash down had just gone inside. At the time I felt relieved I had not been seen because it was embarrassing.
As I lay there, the grass felt nice and cool, but I remembered that there are often ticks about in the vegetation, so I quickly rolled myself up into a standing position, and headed indoors thinking that I had probably suffered a heatstroke, and also a mild concussion. I also recall thinking that this type of fall was not going to help my arthritic right hip and the existing stress fractures in my low back.
I spent the remainder of the day in the house doing assorted household tasks, dinner, etc. We watched some cat videos after dinner, then had an early night.
At 1:30am, I woke up needing to visit the washroom. When I tried to get out of bed, I found it very difficult. Once I did get out of bed, I found that I couldn’t stand. So, I crawled the short distance to the washroom, hauled myself onto the pot with great difficulty, and had to crawl back to bed after I was done. In my sleep crazed state I felt sure that my fall had done a number on my low back and that was the problem.
When the alarm went off at 4:30, I again tried to get out of bed and this time couldn’t budge myself. Well if that doesn’t set you back a bit, I don’t know what will.
Up until that particular point, I was always in control of my life. It never occurred to me that I would be unable to get out of bed, never mind go to the bathroom unassisted. That was the sort of thing that happened to really old and infirm people. That wasn’t me, right?
WRONG.
So At 4:30 am I realized that it was time to cave in and call 911 for an ambulance. I was basically helpless.
I definitely had to hand in my Superpower ID card.
Bruce was pretty stressed at this point, but kept it together very well. In a surprisingly short time, the ambulance arrived with two tall, tanned and very fit paramedics. They were so very nice and gentle. They took vitals, asked a few questions, established that I was unable to move my left side, and quickly and efficiently bundled me onto a gurney and downstairs, and into the waiting ambulance.
Destination: our local hospital, Trillium Health Centre.
Continued in part two
