Pooky
I had my first (and hopefully, last) stroke on September 9, 1999. l usually call that day the day my "life" came to an end, because my old life is gone, now. I was only 22. Since I don't remember anything about my stroke (thank goodness), I have been told most of this by my family. When I had the stroke, it was my sister who found me. She said that she knew something was wrong with me, because she told me I had passed this test (a very important and hard test for my career), and I threw the score report on the floor (something was wrong with me because usually I would look at the paper for a while and start screaming). She said that I was waving my hand towards my face (they say it wasn't until my aunt visited me in the hospital, that they knew why I was doing this; I was doing this because I couldn't feel my face). She said that the ambulance came and took me to the hospital's emergency room. It was here that they discovered that the stroke happened on both sides of my brain and that I had a bad stroke. My parents said that this is when I started to swell up (probably a side effect of the medicines). My mom said that my leg had swollen up so much that my support pantyhose had to be cut off me. Since I had a blockage and a bleed, they couldn't use heparin to thin my blood, because too much blood would bleed out and probably cause me to die. My parents said I didn't move the left side of my body for about 4 months (I am so happy that I can move it now!!). My kidneys failed next and I had to have dialysis (I used to think this was why I urinate so much, but my dad told me that people with kidney problems don't go to the restroom enough). After my stay in the hospital's emergency room, I went to their intensive rehab unit so I could re-learn how to do things such as walking, talking and writing. Now, I walk pretty good, even without my cane. I talk better but my speech isn't clear or always understandable, and it has been noticed that I don't move the left side of my mouth when talking. As for my writing, I practice but it still looks funny and sloppy. It was in rehab that they realized I talked loud and always seemed to laugh or cry. The rehab I was in discharged me in January, 2000 (which means that I had to spend my 23rd birthday and some very big holidays in the hospital or rehab). My parents said when they brought me home (to their house), I was in a wheelchair, but that I only stayed in it for about 2 weeks. Next, I went to a walker, which I seemed to carry around, so I started to use a cane (but, I don't use that anymore). Now, I see a speech therapist (I used to see an occupational therapist, too but she discharged me last month) once a week. I can do almost everything I used to be able to do. Except, I can't/shouldn't drive (because I get tired quick and my neck is kind of stiff; I am currently working on getting it less stiff by doing these neck exercises that my therapist gave me) and I can't hold a lot of stuff with my left hand (because the doctor/nurse put the I.V. in my skin, not a vein, and as a result my left hand lost most of the skin [it used to be a hole there, but now it is healing and I probably won't need a skin graft(which, I can't get now because of the coumadin)]; Now all I do is sit here and wait to get better. It's almost a year since my stroke, and I am so happy that I'm still alive (the doctors told my parents that I would die from my stroke). I'll be glad when that happens because I can't wait to go back to school and work (I have to work because I really don't think SSI will ever kick in, and besides, I liked my job (it was kind of like what I was going to college for) and live a normal life. I know one thing, I will never use the birth control pill again. The doctors say that caused my stroke. Two weeks ago, I moved back into my apartment. The only thing I hate about it, is that it's upstairs; I have to walk up the stairs to go there, which makes me tired and also makes me laugh. I wish that I would stop laughing all the time. I can't go to church now, because of my laughing, which really makes me mad; because my church prayed for me and the preacher always calls and asks how I am doing.
Besides God (I am sorry if I just offended anyone; I don't mean to), I think that my being young is why I'm alive. If I had been older my left side would probably be paralyzed (not to mention that I would probably be dead, like the doctors told my family.) I am so glad that I had this stroke when I was young (I would be even happier if I never had the stroke).
Pooky
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