It's coming up on four months since I had a stroke. At the time, the main 'stroke specialist' who saw me in the hospital was quite optimistic that my vision would recover, and that within three months, I would be back to normal. . .
Alas, that has not been the case. My vision is essentially unchanged since then. In the first weeks, I thought I was noticing some improvements, and I may have, but in the sober light of nearly four months experience, the recovery turns out to be pretty minimal, so far. I tell folks that there are three aspects to my 'recovery' experience: (1) actual healing/recovery, which, in retrospect, seems pretty minimal, (2) adapting to the new 'boundary conditions' on my life and health, which is certainly happening, and (3) wishful thinking, which has probably also been happening. It is, unfortunately, hard to tell the difference between the three, from inside the confines of my own experience.
So, unless something major happens in the next few months, I am probably done with my working career, and will be looking at retirement options. Which, you know, ain't so bad as all that. I turn 62 in less than two months, so I'm not cutting that many years off the various and sundry 'time lines'. Besides which, I will almost certainly qualify for Social Security Disability, which, along with the long-term disability benefit from my company, will carry me nicely to age 65, when things will 'normalize' again. Plus, I can start taking my pension from my first job at age 62, at the full payment (which ain't all that big, but it ain't nothing, either). So, financially, the stroke might even turn out to be a happy thing. Financially.
The thing is, other than my vision, I feel fine, physically speaking. As in the initial days, I don't have any physical 'deficits' other than my vision. All of my limbs are working normally, my speech and memory are fine, and my smile is the same one I've had my whole life. I had my vision evaluated, and they told me it was good enough to drive, if I felt confident enough. And that has been the case - I can see well enough in the 'global' sense to drive, and do most of the things I would normally do. The problem is with the kind of detail that's involved in reading and writing. I can read, but it's more of a grind than it used to be, and I find myself going over the same passages multiple times to be sure I'm getting them right. It's actually easier to type stuff on the computer than write them by hand (for whatever reason, writing a check is a particular adventure; maybe that'll save me some money in the long run. . .)
Honestly, my overall health has probably improved since the stroke. My blood pressure is lower, and I'm sleeping better. I'm coming to the realization that, for the last few years, I've been pushing myself really hard, in all sorts of ways, and it was taking a toll on my body that I was slow to realize. If I felt tired or lethargic on a bike ride, you know, the answer was just to keep riding, even ride harder, to burnish my conditioning. Which works better when you're younger than 62, I guess. In fact, knowing what I know now about my symptoms, and thinking back, it's likely that I had at least one previous mini-stroke, the effects of which were small enough to basically ignore. . .
And you know, in the back of my mind, the thought of going back to work was provoking in me feelings of dread. If I were really determined to go back to work, I might even be able to, but I couldn't be anywhere near as productive, and it would only provoke more anxiety and stress. To say nothing of the 'background' stress of commuting over an hour at either end of the day, just to get there and back. I'm seeing that I just don't have the energy or stamina for that kind of pushing myself, anymore (and you know, I didn't have it even when I was doing it, the past couple years). And that simple acceptance is proving to be very liberating. I was talking with a guy after church, who had recently had a stroke of his own, and had briefly gone back to work, before his boss finally told him it was time for him to be done, before he hurt himself worse than he already was. "It's just not worth trying to be a hero," he told me, and just admitting that thought into my mind lowered my blood pressure several points, all by itself.
So, the adventure continues. Jenn and I have been saying for a while that we'd love to retire and have more time/energy available for the marriage ministry we've been involved with, and it seems that we'll be able to do that even sooner than we'd hoped. Jenn is still working, but me being at home has us looking more seriously at how/when she can join me. 8M graduates high school in two more years, and that will probably be a bright line in the sand (if that isn't mixing my metaphors too terribly). But at this point, we will simply see what we will see (heh; you see what I did there?)
Showing posts with label stroke. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stroke. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 10, 2018
Monday, October 2, 2017
Doctor My Eyes
Well, whatever ancient Chinese person I've offended is at it again, because life just keeps getting interesting-er and interesting-er. . .
Last Saturday (23Sep) was a hot day, and I knew it was going to be hot. So I got out on my bike early, not wanting to be out in the afternoon heat. I cut my miles a bit shorter than my usual, and was off the road before noon. Then I ran some errands, and came home. Saturday afternoon, I was sitting at the dining room table, trying to keep myself adequately hydrated (I was drinking lots of water), when I suddenly became extremely sleepy. I mean, I was literally nodding off, sitting in my chair. Which was odd. But, you know, 60-something individual that I am, I thought I should just take a nap, and I'd feel better. So I did, and I did.
Saturday evening, we were having dinner with friends at their house, and having a good time. Then, sometime during dinner, I was looking across the table at one of our hosts, and her face wouldn't come into focus. No matter how hard I concentrated, I couldn't get her face to snap into focus. Well, I'm here to tell you, that was strange. Nothing else seemed amiss, so I just soldiered on through the evening, then went home and went to bed, fully expecting that, in the morning after a good night's sleep, whatever was going on would have worked itself out.
But when I awoke in the morning, my vision hadn't changed at all. I could see reasonably well in a 'global' sense, but whenever I tried to focus on some small detail, it was 'locally' just kind-of scrambled. We went to church, and I was scheduled to be a communion minister, which turned out to be interesting in a whole new way. While I was holding the cup low in front of myself, it sort-of 'disappeared'; I could feel it in my hands, but my peripheral vision couldn't see it. Then, when I held it up to a communicant, it suddenly reappeared - "oh, there you are!".
After church, we went home, and it didn't take a long time to reach the conclusion that something wasn't right, and hadn't been right since the previous evening, and it wasn't getting better. So we went to the ER.
After I described my symptoms, the attending doc did a bunch of little 'quick tests' - asking me to push against resistance with each of my limbs in turn, to smile, etc., which I easily recognized as checking for a stroke. I smiled, happy not only that I recognized what she was looking for, but also that I was passing all the tests. Then she sent me for a CT scan, and they wheeled me back to my waiting spot.
A half-hour or so later, the doc reappeared, and took a seat next to my bed. She looked very earnestly into my eyes (which were having trouble focusing on her, but we knew that already), and said, "You've had a stroke."
Um, excuse me? Did you say I've had a stroke? That can't be right - all my limbs are fine, my face isn't drooping, and my speech is fine. Now let's talk about getting my vision cleared up, and forget about all this 'stroke' nonsense. I mean, I hear all the PSAs on the radio about FAST, and I don't have any of those symptoms. Well, it turns out that sudden changes in vision are another sign of a stroke, but it isn't in the PSAs, because nobody outside the stroke sufferer him/herself can discern it.
So they admitted me (and I got my very first ambulance ride out of the deal, because they sent me to the 'mother ship' hospital across town that has all the fancy diagnostic equipment), and proceeded to spend the next two-and-a-half days running all manner of tests on me. I won't bore you with the details, except to say that there is something very surreal about doing an MRI at 4AM. That damn tube is every bit as claustrophobic as anything you've ever heard about it, and getting shoved into it when you're on an interrupted sleep cycle borders on cruel and unusual. Mercifully, I managed it by just focusing on taking my next breath in, and then out, and after a few minutes, I was mostly OK. By about halfway through the test, I even opened my eyes. But that was not noticeably different from having them closed, so I decided to just close them, and if I fell asleep, so much the better.
By the time I left the hospital last Tuesday, I had a lovely parting gift of a computer chip implanted in my chest, to monitor my heart rate. They still don't know what caused the stroke, which is a tad concerning, because not knowing what caused this stroke, makes it harder to know how to prevent it from happening again. The docs are working on the hypothesis that I had an episode of atrial fibrillation (a-fib), possibly due to the exertion of the bike ride and the hot weather (which is reminiscent of another a-fib episode I had six years ago, just before my dad died), and a blood clot from the a-fib made its way to my brain, and clogged things up. So they want to watch and see if I have any more a-fib episodes, in which case, they'll put me on a blood thinner.
I have two more doctor appointments this week, and the promise of more to come, I'm sure. I had to go on disability at work, since I can't drive, and reading is a struggle. The docs are telling me that my vision ought to return to normal within 1-3 months, and all will be well, except for that not-knowing-how-to-prevent-it-from-happening-again thing, and we're working on that. My PT, such as it is, is to take daily walks, and read a lot, to help my brain re-route the 'reading' app. So, you know, that's not too bad. At some point, I'll want to get back on my bike, if only to tax my heart enough to give the monitor something to look at. But maybe not just yet. And I've got to lose weight. Again.
(*sigh*)
So here I sit, waiting for my vision to come back enough for me to read and drive, so I can go back to work. Other than that, there is nothing wrong with me (well, you know, other than the things everyone has always known were wrong with me). So, it's a little weird.
The adventure continues. . . ;)
Last Saturday (23Sep) was a hot day, and I knew it was going to be hot. So I got out on my bike early, not wanting to be out in the afternoon heat. I cut my miles a bit shorter than my usual, and was off the road before noon. Then I ran some errands, and came home. Saturday afternoon, I was sitting at the dining room table, trying to keep myself adequately hydrated (I was drinking lots of water), when I suddenly became extremely sleepy. I mean, I was literally nodding off, sitting in my chair. Which was odd. But, you know, 60-something individual that I am, I thought I should just take a nap, and I'd feel better. So I did, and I did.
Saturday evening, we were having dinner with friends at their house, and having a good time. Then, sometime during dinner, I was looking across the table at one of our hosts, and her face wouldn't come into focus. No matter how hard I concentrated, I couldn't get her face to snap into focus. Well, I'm here to tell you, that was strange. Nothing else seemed amiss, so I just soldiered on through the evening, then went home and went to bed, fully expecting that, in the morning after a good night's sleep, whatever was going on would have worked itself out.
But when I awoke in the morning, my vision hadn't changed at all. I could see reasonably well in a 'global' sense, but whenever I tried to focus on some small detail, it was 'locally' just kind-of scrambled. We went to church, and I was scheduled to be a communion minister, which turned out to be interesting in a whole new way. While I was holding the cup low in front of myself, it sort-of 'disappeared'; I could feel it in my hands, but my peripheral vision couldn't see it. Then, when I held it up to a communicant, it suddenly reappeared - "oh, there you are!".
After church, we went home, and it didn't take a long time to reach the conclusion that something wasn't right, and hadn't been right since the previous evening, and it wasn't getting better. So we went to the ER.
After I described my symptoms, the attending doc did a bunch of little 'quick tests' - asking me to push against resistance with each of my limbs in turn, to smile, etc., which I easily recognized as checking for a stroke. I smiled, happy not only that I recognized what she was looking for, but also that I was passing all the tests. Then she sent me for a CT scan, and they wheeled me back to my waiting spot.
A half-hour or so later, the doc reappeared, and took a seat next to my bed. She looked very earnestly into my eyes (which were having trouble focusing on her, but we knew that already), and said, "You've had a stroke."
Um, excuse me? Did you say I've had a stroke? That can't be right - all my limbs are fine, my face isn't drooping, and my speech is fine. Now let's talk about getting my vision cleared up, and forget about all this 'stroke' nonsense. I mean, I hear all the PSAs on the radio about FAST, and I don't have any of those symptoms. Well, it turns out that sudden changes in vision are another sign of a stroke, but it isn't in the PSAs, because nobody outside the stroke sufferer him/herself can discern it.
So they admitted me (and I got my very first ambulance ride out of the deal, because they sent me to the 'mother ship' hospital across town that has all the fancy diagnostic equipment), and proceeded to spend the next two-and-a-half days running all manner of tests on me. I won't bore you with the details, except to say that there is something very surreal about doing an MRI at 4AM. That damn tube is every bit as claustrophobic as anything you've ever heard about it, and getting shoved into it when you're on an interrupted sleep cycle borders on cruel and unusual. Mercifully, I managed it by just focusing on taking my next breath in, and then out, and after a few minutes, I was mostly OK. By about halfway through the test, I even opened my eyes. But that was not noticeably different from having them closed, so I decided to just close them, and if I fell asleep, so much the better.
By the time I left the hospital last Tuesday, I had a lovely parting gift of a computer chip implanted in my chest, to monitor my heart rate. They still don't know what caused the stroke, which is a tad concerning, because not knowing what caused this stroke, makes it harder to know how to prevent it from happening again. The docs are working on the hypothesis that I had an episode of atrial fibrillation (a-fib), possibly due to the exertion of the bike ride and the hot weather (which is reminiscent of another a-fib episode I had six years ago, just before my dad died), and a blood clot from the a-fib made its way to my brain, and clogged things up. So they want to watch and see if I have any more a-fib episodes, in which case, they'll put me on a blood thinner.
I have two more doctor appointments this week, and the promise of more to come, I'm sure. I had to go on disability at work, since I can't drive, and reading is a struggle. The docs are telling me that my vision ought to return to normal within 1-3 months, and all will be well, except for that not-knowing-how-to-prevent-it-from-happening-again thing, and we're working on that. My PT, such as it is, is to take daily walks, and read a lot, to help my brain re-route the 'reading' app. So, you know, that's not too bad. At some point, I'll want to get back on my bike, if only to tax my heart enough to give the monitor something to look at. But maybe not just yet. And I've got to lose weight. Again.
(*sigh*)
So here I sit, waiting for my vision to come back enough for me to read and drive, so I can go back to work. Other than that, there is nothing wrong with me (well, you know, other than the things everyone has always known were wrong with me). So, it's a little weird.
The adventure continues. . . ;)
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Lord, Have Mercy
I'd solicit your prayers for a couple of situations that have come close to our family in recent days. . .
-------------------------
Our neighbors across the street are a young couple (well, younger than us), members of our Christian community. Jen takes a bit of pride in, years ago, having played something of a 'matchmaker' role for them. They have four children, three girls and a boy, ranging in age from 11 down to 5, for whom 6F has been a frequent babysitter. The husband/father (call him Al) is 36. I've known both him and his wife since their college days.
Last Wednesday, Al had a stroke. When he was very young (maybe four, or something like that), he had a brain tumor. It was treated agressively, with radiation, and probably some other stuff, and he never had any kind of recurrence. But the radiation and other agressive stuff that was done three decades ago, caused that part of his brain to 'age' more rapidly. Whatever the case, 36 is terribly young to be having a stroke. The immediate effects are paralysis of his left side, and significant difficulty speaking. His prognosis for survival is excellent, but it remains to be seen how much function he regains, and how long it takes.
Which, of course, leaves all sorts of unanswered questions for the future, as to what their life will be like, how they'll pay their bills, what will be the effect on their kids, etc, etc etc. . . Needless to say, it's a pretty freaky time for them. Al's wife hasn't had a 'real job' (ie, outside the home, for pay) in many years, and suddenly she's looking at having to do that again (and you may have noticed, all talk of recovery aside, the economy is still running somewhere short of 'robust')
It's been good to see our community rallying to their support. Another young family (with eight kids of their own) (no, not us; does it freak you out that there's more than one?) has taken their kids in indefinitely, so Al's wife can be with him in the hospital. And folks are putting together a meal schedule for them, so they can come home without the immediate pressure of putting food on the table.
Anyway, if you all could lift them up in your prayers, they can surely use them. . .
-------------------------
My youngest brother and his wife live in Tucson, Arizona. They met when they were both in college in Montana (Jen and I, and 7M, who was a newborn at the time, went to their wedding in Missoula - in the church that was used in filming A River Runs Through It). After graduation, they moved to Tucson, where his wife's family lives. My sister-in-law is an elementary school teacher.
My brother has always enjoyed telling the story about the time he stopped at the vacuum-cleaner store to pick up some bags for their vac, only to encounter Paul McCartney picking up his own vac from the repair counter (the McCartneys had a ranch outside Tucson; I've always gotten a kick from the idea of Paul McCartney picking up his own vaccum cleaner from the repair shop, and not just sending someone to pick it up for him) (or, for that matter, that Paul McCartney gets his vacuum cleaner repaired, instead of just pitching it and getting a new one).
Last Saturday morning, my SIL was out doing some shopping at a shopping center near their home. Suddenly, from the other side of the shopping center, shots rang out, and everything was thrown into confusion. In a matter of minutes, med-evac helicopters were taking victims to the hospital. Yeah, she was there.
She's OK; at least in a physical sense. But it has shaken her terribly. The 9-year-old girl who was killed attended a school near their house, which their nephew also attends. The 'degrees of connection' of the tragedy spread out all over their neighborhood.
I cannot fathom what could possibly motivate someone to kill a 9-year-old girl to make some kind of twisted political statement. I have my own political opinions, some of them quite firmly held, but I cannot imagine taking a gun to shoot up a shopping center in the hopes of killing my political 'adversaries'. This ain't freakin' Nazi Germany. . .
The victims and their families need our prayers; and Rep. Giffords, and the other wounded, for their recovery. Quite apart from their status as public servants, or members of one or the other political party, these are nonetheless human beings, with families and loved ones of their own. And please pray for the people of Tucson, including my SIL, who didn't ask for this to happen in their back yard, and are, as you might imagine, pretty deeply shaken by it.
-------------------------
Oh Lord, have mercy. . .
-------------------------
Our neighbors across the street are a young couple (well, younger than us), members of our Christian community. Jen takes a bit of pride in, years ago, having played something of a 'matchmaker' role for them. They have four children, three girls and a boy, ranging in age from 11 down to 5, for whom 6F has been a frequent babysitter. The husband/father (call him Al) is 36. I've known both him and his wife since their college days.
Last Wednesday, Al had a stroke. When he was very young (maybe four, or something like that), he had a brain tumor. It was treated agressively, with radiation, and probably some other stuff, and he never had any kind of recurrence. But the radiation and other agressive stuff that was done three decades ago, caused that part of his brain to 'age' more rapidly. Whatever the case, 36 is terribly young to be having a stroke. The immediate effects are paralysis of his left side, and significant difficulty speaking. His prognosis for survival is excellent, but it remains to be seen how much function he regains, and how long it takes.
Which, of course, leaves all sorts of unanswered questions for the future, as to what their life will be like, how they'll pay their bills, what will be the effect on their kids, etc, etc etc. . . Needless to say, it's a pretty freaky time for them. Al's wife hasn't had a 'real job' (ie, outside the home, for pay) in many years, and suddenly she's looking at having to do that again (and you may have noticed, all talk of recovery aside, the economy is still running somewhere short of 'robust')
It's been good to see our community rallying to their support. Another young family (with eight kids of their own) (no, not us; does it freak you out that there's more than one?) has taken their kids in indefinitely, so Al's wife can be with him in the hospital. And folks are putting together a meal schedule for them, so they can come home without the immediate pressure of putting food on the table.
Anyway, if you all could lift them up in your prayers, they can surely use them. . .
-------------------------
My youngest brother and his wife live in Tucson, Arizona. They met when they were both in college in Montana (Jen and I, and 7M, who was a newborn at the time, went to their wedding in Missoula - in the church that was used in filming A River Runs Through It). After graduation, they moved to Tucson, where his wife's family lives. My sister-in-law is an elementary school teacher.
My brother has always enjoyed telling the story about the time he stopped at the vacuum-cleaner store to pick up some bags for their vac, only to encounter Paul McCartney picking up his own vac from the repair counter (the McCartneys had a ranch outside Tucson; I've always gotten a kick from the idea of Paul McCartney picking up his own vaccum cleaner from the repair shop, and not just sending someone to pick it up for him) (or, for that matter, that Paul McCartney gets his vacuum cleaner repaired, instead of just pitching it and getting a new one).
Last Saturday morning, my SIL was out doing some shopping at a shopping center near their home. Suddenly, from the other side of the shopping center, shots rang out, and everything was thrown into confusion. In a matter of minutes, med-evac helicopters were taking victims to the hospital. Yeah, she was there.
She's OK; at least in a physical sense. But it has shaken her terribly. The 9-year-old girl who was killed attended a school near their house, which their nephew also attends. The 'degrees of connection' of the tragedy spread out all over their neighborhood.
I cannot fathom what could possibly motivate someone to kill a 9-year-old girl to make some kind of twisted political statement. I have my own political opinions, some of them quite firmly held, but I cannot imagine taking a gun to shoot up a shopping center in the hopes of killing my political 'adversaries'. This ain't freakin' Nazi Germany. . .
The victims and their families need our prayers; and Rep. Giffords, and the other wounded, for their recovery. Quite apart from their status as public servants, or members of one or the other political party, these are nonetheless human beings, with families and loved ones of their own. And please pray for the people of Tucson, including my SIL, who didn't ask for this to happen in their back yard, and are, as you might imagine, pretty deeply shaken by it.
-------------------------
Oh Lord, have mercy. . .
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