My Third-month, Second-chance Birthday

I struggled with how to represent this past month.    Do I share the truth or provide one a bit rosier-hued?   I’m going with the unaltered truth.   Enjoy the ride; it may get bumpy.

As soon as I returned from the hospital, I made dramatic lifestyle changes.  I’d never made myself a priority before.  There was always something or someone I could put above me.  And denial of needing to make myself a priority was easy.   I’m a program manager and event planner, you could say that organizing and planning is in my DNA.  I am now “the project” and one which rivals all other projects I’ve done.  I’m blessed to have the support of family, friends, the crew at JumpStartMD and tools at my fingertips like MyFitnessPal from Under Armour and it’s ability to link with the Apple products to seamlessly track my activity and daily nutritional numbers.

I’ve been losing weight since the night of the stroke.   Every week I have a loving family that asks “how much did you lose???”    Text messages start popping up shortly after my appointment with the nutritionist.   I’ve had both good and bad weeks.  Fortunately, the good weeks have out weighed – yes, pun intended – the bad and I’ve now dropped 50 lbs.    I tell people I’ve lost my granddaughter, Kenzie.   Little brown-haired, black-eyes stunner who turned five this past May and is just shy of weighing my milestone number.    I figure as I continue to lose weight, I’ll reference other people I’ve dropped.  It seems to get a smile & it resonates much more than a red wagon full of animal fat or sacks of potatoes.    So one day, I look forward to saying “I’ve lost my daughter” with a huge smile on my face and completely confusing everyone!!    For now,  I’ve lost my granddaughter and I’m grateful.

Living the new lifestyle combined with holding myself transparent has been rough.   I stress about the number, I stress about if it isn’t good then will they think badly of me…. will they think I’m sneaking oreo’s and milk late at night while working at my computer?    Or will they believe that it’s something as simple as retaining water?   How are they viewing me and my resolve?  Have they given up hope on me again for failure?  These thoughts swirl around in my head until I begin projecting them onto each of those loved ones texting “did you lose?”  And that projection makes me go a little nuts.

This month was brutal and had a hard time trying to squelch the tears.   I’ve never felt so raw and on edge.   It felt like I was pulling people closer and pushing them away at the same time.   I wanted their comforting hugs yet was exhausted with the stroke-cloud looming always over my head.   My denial button seems to be broken.  My head won’t let me forget.   I’ve still to sit in the spot on my new couch.   Gotta get back on that horse sometime, girl.  Can’t seem to bring myself to do it.

If my head is swirling then it’s nothing compared to the lack of oral filter which has manifested this month.   Oh the lack of patience!!  “Patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet”, said Aristotle.   My tongue has been sharp and direct.  Oh and when AT&T decided to bring down my WiFi for a week, I found it took no effort to share every thought I had with the poor rep on the other end of the phone.    Lady says, “we care about you”.     You care about me??   You don’t care about me, I’m just going to be “that woman” on the phone tonight when you go home and complain to your boyfriend.   You don’t realize I had a stroke on 4/7 and that Amazon Alexa was the ONLY thing that saved my life.   AND that without my WiFi I have no Alexa’s working throughout the house.    You don’t care that I feel vulnerable and scared.  You don’t care that I’m stressing about the sheer fact that I may end up having another stroke and my primary method of contacting help has just been stripped of me.

I begged to drive anywhere to pick up a new modem and I asked to pay more money to have someone expedited to my home.   Crickets.   We care so very much.   Ended up AT&T caused the issue while upgrading my internet account.   AND once that was up and running, they neglected to reinstate my land-line which is required for the Alexa’s to call 911.   What the hell???    Another few days to get someone onsite and we finally had resolution.     That week was beyond stressful.    It was downright terrifying.    In my head were “what-ifs” going off right and left like the 4th of July fireworks.   And the overwhelming fear of just having another stroke could not be suppressed.   Every little twinge or unusual sensation would suddenly trigger a further, extensive analysis of what’s happening now!   I’d wake from a dead sleep and find two fingers of my left hand were somewhat asleep and I’d be up for at least an hour or so trying to make sure it was only “asleep” and there wasn’t another clot up in my brain having a field day starving my brain cells.

Angry, distracted and frustrated beyond all reason with my left hand.   Left the hospital and spent 2 months with a left hand experiencing a slight dulling of the senses.   Got used to being a little more careful with hot tea and soups but for the most part was okay.    This month…  I realize that I’m a mutant and my special power is to be able to internally combust my left hand and set things on fire.   Oh yeah, my left hand heats up from within.  The smallest spark would send it over the edge and I’d be running around with a fiery hand-torch.   Another WTH moment.    Heat, sharp tingles… you’ll find me at work grabbing a cold can from the snack area just to calm these poor digits down.    Jumped on all the support groups and they say it could be the brain trying to refire – lol, another pun – the connection between it and the nerves in the hand.   If that’s the case then AMEN but I wish I had control over this conference call between brain and hand… I think my program manager skills would assist in coordinating these discussions and coming to resolution much quicker.

 

 

I feel more alone than I’ve ever felt in my life.    In the third month, the newness of the stroke has worn off.   That just sounds bad but it’s true.   For many, it is now time for everyone to get back to their lives and, yes, for me to as well.   But this year has been different.   My boyfriend of – WOW, over 10 years – is not accessible, available, and the routine and life we had built is now different and foreign.    He’s focused heavily on his world and I’m stuck in mine, alone.    I feel like an after thought.    And while everyone is living their lives, I’m trying to figure out what the heck does mine look like?   And I’m different now.   It’s not like I can look through the eyes of Terri from pre-4/7…. nope.   Everything going forward can only be viewed through a post-stroke lens.  A change that never unchanges, never dulls with time,  never recedes into a “oh yeah what about that?”    I’m the after thought but the stroke can’t be.   It won’t allow it.

 

 

I put this picture here as a reminder to me and anyone else who may be feeling in any way like I’ve shared above.   I believe in Hope; although, it isn’t a great business strategy.    The words shown here connect to the core of me.    HOLD ON, PAIN ENDS.    Great segue into “time heals all wounds”.    Maybe I can combine these and throw in a “Help me, God!” and with a bit of patience start to look forward to my Fourth-month, Second-chance birthday.

God bless.

Terri