My Stroke

[paddy]

This Was Never Meant To Happen To Me.


After 10 weeks in Maitland Hospital I’m going home tomorrow. Not the same though. I have about 20% of the movement in my right leg (I walk from the hip now. My knee and ankle need a lot more work before they can carry their fair share) I have 10% functionality in my arm and hand, short term memory loss and mild Aphasia (that’s a techy term for being able to select the word, see the word but not able to say it.)
Yes, I had a STROKE. And not a poofy little stroke where a blood vessel bursts in the brain and a week later you ‘re out of hospital with, at the worst, some mild impairment.
No I had the granddaddy of all strokes, the Haemorrhagic stroke. (GOOGLE IT )
The one that starts in the base of the brain and rips through one side of the body destroying all of the command and control circuits. Sort of like a malevolent filleting knife. Still I’ll get to that later.

This was never meant to happen to me. With all the things I have done over the years I should be dead many times over by now. I was the oldest of 4 boys and we all combined to give Mum white hairs. All of her hair is white now but she is eighty and still has 4 sons.
Now to the sad litany of turning my mother’s hair white.
At 17 I joined the Airforce and not as a Clerk. No I had to be an Armourer and play with Bombs and Rockets and Guns and other fun stuff. Mum’s hair started to turn grey. Then I took up parachuting along with a brief dalliance with powered flying, gliding and ballooning. My 3 brothers followed me into the air and there went the colour in Mum’s hair.
I had 1 flight where I thought I might die and another flight and 2 parachute jumps where I didn’t think I might die, I knew I was dead.
I survived my youth and went on to marry Marilou and have our children Sandra and Jacqui.




This Was Never Meant To Happen To Me.

My Stroke
It was a dark and stormy night (Well it wasn’t but I’ve always wanted to use that line) It was about 10am on a bright and sunny Sunday morning. I had just got back from dropping Marilou off at work.
I came home, told Jacqui I was back, grabbed a beer and went outside to have a smoke. God was in his heaven and all was well with the world (at least my part of it) when I felt my right side slip just a little bit. I didn’t worry about it, had another mouthful of beer and a drag on my ciggie when it happened again, just a little bit more. What the hell was this? Ahh well it’ll sort itself out overnight just as it always has.
Then my right side felt as if it collapsed about a foot. No pain and no fear though but bloody hell this was getting serious. I called Jacqui and found out that my voice had slipped as well.
Jacqui came running outside, took one look at me and burst into tears. I don’t blame her either. I looked like my right side was made of plastiscene which had been left out in the sun all day. I tried to talk to her which was when I discovered that my voice was really not much better.
So here’s the situation: My 8 year old daughter’s in tears, I don’t what’s happened to me except I’m in deep shit (and getting deeper by the minute) I’m speaking left handed Braille and I NEED TO COMMUNICATE RIGHT NOW!
With Jacqui’s native intelligence to help me, my slurred voice (imagine trying to talk when you’re really drunk and then multiply it by two) and single handed sign language we managed to ring my oldest daughter Sandra and get her to come around. Fortunately she was home or plan B would have to do (there was no plan B)
Sandra arrived and , as Jacqui did, took one look at me and burst into tears. I must looked horrible because I don’t usually have that affect on my children.
Sandra and I decided what was to done and Hospital seemed like a good idea. Sandra was going to drive me until we discovered that I couldn’t move. Sandra and Jacqui had no hope of carrying little old 96 kilo me . Obviously a chauffer driven trip via Ambulance was called for.
An Ambulance was called and, in what seemed an amazingly short time, duly arrived. I was transferred from my chair to a stretcher and then to the Ambulance (minus my beer)
My daughters dealt with the intimations of my mortality as you would expect but they also fulfilled my expectations as I knew they would. I am incredibly grateful to them.

Next: The Hospital.

[Dave Homewood]

Wow, how awful. Thanks for posting this Paddy.

[suthg]

Looking forward to the next few chapters!!

A stroke can happen to any of us - the signs need to be acknowledged and it's extremely urgent to get care ASAP..

FAST is an acronym for reactions to a stroke. F is for Face and the sagging musculature and lips, A is for Arms and a lack of strength or control, S is for Speech and for slurring and incomplete words, but I forget what T was for - Telephone for help? can't recall. But speed is of the essence - ie FAST!!

[jonesy]

The "T" is TIME: Its a time critical event, but as you have shown already, theres very little that family or bystanders can do except call for help ASAP and keep the patient safe. Recognising the first 3 signs is so critical, and getting the ambos to transport to hospital quick smart is great.

Another factor is that a stroke can affect anyone, anywhere, and anytime. By the way, how old are you Paddy?

PS good luck with continuing the recovery phase, its a long haul indeed...

[baz62]

Man that must have been scary for you alright! All the best for your recovery Paddy.

[chinapilot]

I'm sorry to hear that and wish you a speedy recovery.
Thanks for posting your 'experience' though as it's certainly a wake up call.
A few years back there was a lot of awareness about how to recognise the onset of a stroke and it's certainly made me recall them after reading your post.
Many like this on the web.

[Dave Homewood]

That of course should be Call 111 here in NZ, and 000 in Australia, and 999 in the UK.

[paddy]

I'm 57. That is one reason for writing this. Strokes only happen to old people right. 80 plus if not older. Well strokes happen to people in their early thirties if not younger. So next time you go to the Doctor get checked out. Believe me, a stroke is not fun.

[Dave Homewood]

You possibly missed this news while in hospital Paddy but only a few weeks ago the now former All Black Piri Weepu was hospitalised having suffered a stroke too, so it not only affects people any age but also those who're very fit and otherwise healthy too.

[mikey52]

Thanks for sharing Paddy. I have spent the last five years looking after my 84 year old mother. She had a major stroke which has paralysed the entire left hand side of her body. I will not go into more detail here but it was certainly a life changing event for her, and indeed, the entire family. I wish you well !. Mike.

[spongebob206]

All the best for a speedy recovery Paddy.

Thank you and take care

[paddy]

My Stroke Part 3

This Was Never Meant To Happen To Me.
The Hospital:

After a 30 minute ride (with siren and lights) we arrived at John Hunter Hospital. They unloaded me and I saw the Triage Nurse. I mentally prepared myself for a 4 hour wait (it was Sunday Lunchtime after all) but no, a Doctor saw me immediately and fired me off in the direction of the Xray department. There I was introduced to a very large machine with a very small hole in the centre of it.
My head was placed in the hole and the entire machine twisted, whirred and clicked as it apparently took a series of pictures of my brain (such as it is) I was then wheeled into a ward and left.
Meanwhile Sandra had got hold of Marilou and she was burning the rubber on her way to The John Hunter Hospital. About the only person that was relaxed about this was me (ignorance is bliss).
When Marilou arrived they decided to tell us what had happened. I’d had a stroke and was looking at a minimum of 3 months in hospital and probably a LOT longer. This was a bit of a blow but it should take me 2 weeks to get my right side working again so I’ll be back home in a fortnight to three weeks. Bloody Doctors don’t know what they are talking about!
I spent the next 2 days at The John Hunter chewing on medication designed to get my blood pressure down from a number beginning with 2 to a slightly more reasonable figure.
Then came the big day, I was transferred to Maitland Hospital (minus the little stuffed toy that Jacqui had given me. That got lost in the move.) Wouldn’t be long now and I would be home.
Boy, was I wrong!
They parked me in G Ward for a week while they waited for a bed to come free in the Rehabilitation Ward. Whilst I was there I tried standing up. It can’t be that hard. I mean I’ve had enough sprained ankles after all and I’m used to hopping about. Well first of all my ankle collapsed, then my knee, my hip my torso and finally my neck. I was left lying on the floor like a puddle of water.
When the Nurses had finished laughing (not literally but you could see they wanted to) they bought out a crane (really) and winched me back into my bed.
Now it must have been the damage to my brain or maybe the medication but I started to have the most vivid dreams. So vivid that they felt like reality. I had one set in the old Islington Theatre. Now it’s a nice old building but it is no place to find yourself at 1 o’clock in the morning when you’re supposed to be in Maitland Hospital.
Also in G Ward I was introduced to the joys of Bed Pans and Bed Baths. It is just as well that the military had left me with no sense of false modesty. Those Nurses are most matter of fact in their attitude towards the human body.
So there I was, dumb and happy, in G Ward for a week until they transferred me to the Rehab Ward.

[suthg]

Great story !! Keep it up... I liked the bit about the wife burning the rubber getting there - haha!

[komata]

Thanks Paddy for your posts. Having experienced a large number of 'Mini strokes' which have not, to date placed me in hospital, I can empathise with your experience.

For the benefit of those who (thankfully) have not experienced a 'full sized' stroke I have deliberately mentioned what are generally-known as 'Mini strokes', since although we are all familiar with 'A Stroke', and what it does and its effects, there is an equally-sinister, but lesser-known relative also out and about; a little critter called a T.I.A!!

A TIA (correctly a Transient Ischemic Attack, or 'Mini Stroke') has a similar end-result to a stroke as Paddy experienced, it just takes longer to achieve and worst of all, you may not be aware that you've even had one!!!!! The symptoms associated with TIA's vary from person to person, but are frequently only noticed as a slight light-headedness (as if you had been spinning around and around, then stopped; 'vertigo', if you will), frequently followed by a severe headache and a desire to sit still with one's eyes closed, or go to sleep. To confuse matters, at times they can be misconstrued as being 'merely' a 'common' Migraine headache. They are however deadly, and the tiredness and 'migraine-like' symptoms are the human brain's way of coping with a massive attack on its workings.

For myself, I had been having such 'events' (wonderful term BTW) for several years, years, and, as we do, ignored them.  It was only when I literally slid down the wall at home (no, not drunk, in case you wondered), one Easter Monday,that I actually realised there was a 'problem' but even then, because it was a holiday weekend DID NOTHING ABOUT IT!! I subsequently learnt that I actually should have gone to a medico or called the St.Johns Ambulance and been taken to the local hospital, but I didn't - I knew nothing about strokes and even less about TIA's. The 'dots' didn't connect. As Paddy had pointed out 'Strokes are for OLD people!.  At 53 I wasn't exactly in that category. Big Mistake; ignorance can be dangerous, and deadly!!

To put this in context, the effect of each TIA is ultimately cumulative! If you see each event as being a small step towards the final 'Stroke' then a whole series of such occurrences (even if they are over a period of years) is having an effect; subtly and quietly, and in ways you have not even considered. THEY ARE DANGEROUS! After having one, your brain tries valiantly to repair itself, but each event erodes a little bit more and further reduces the brain's 'repair' capability. As with all 'weaknesses' ( a broken limb for example) if it is repeated in the same general area, each one is a little bit more damaging, and less able to be repaired.

So what to do IF you think a TIA is happening? DON'T PANIC!! Sit still and wait till it goes away (the time period varies from a few seconds to a few minutes.  If it lasts for longer than five minutes then you are in BIG TROUBLE!!) ). If you are driving pull over and wait it out. Then do a FAST test to check for any damage (thanks China Pilot BTW), then act from the results of that test. Go to the hospital, go to your medi, call an ambulance. DON'T SIT IT OUT AND THINK YOU'R OK!!!!!!  You very definitely are not!

The crucial thing if a TIA happens (or if you DO feel 'light headed' and have a massive headache afterwards, and think you MAY have had 'something'), is to get to a doctor or hospital WITHIN THREE HOURS of the event. The Three Hours are crucial as that time period is a very small window of opportunity for the medics to try and reverse any damage that the TIA has created. Ignore it at your peril. because once that time has passed, there is no going back; any damage is fixed in place!! Don't put it off, don't be 'a real man', and don't think it won't affect you in any way. It does, although it may not be at first evident!! Your family will probably be more aware of the consequences than you are, so ask them.

Keep a note of what had happened, because, unless you change your individual life -style, there will almost certainly be a return round, and, possibly more than one (You have been warned).

And the causes of TIA? They vary from individual to individual, but seem to be closely stress-related!! It's very, very hard for us, as males, to even countenance 'slowing down', but if one views a TIA as the body's method of FORCING you to slow down, then there is a certain 'good reason' to obey, since if you DON'T listen to what you are being 'told' then, as with many things, it will be a case of 'second verse, same as the first' until you are actually FORCED to slow down; if only to allow your brain and body to rebuild themselves.

So there you have it folks, 'Mini strokes', 'TIA's' - call them what you will, they DO exist and we need to be aware of them. Paddy has very kindly shared his experience of a 'full blown' stroke, TIA's, if unchecked, will have the same effect; they just take a little bit longer...

Thanks again, Paddy.

PS: If, after reading this, you do absolutely nothing else in response to what I've written, at least 'Google'  'TIA' and read what comes up in response.  It may literally save your life.   Thanks 

[flight98]

My mum had a TIA just a few weeks ago. Thankfully she works in a resthome, so the nurses there were able to identify it quickly. Its interesting to note that she is perfectly healthy; she is only 41, and she probably eats more vegetables in one meal than I do in a week! The only known cause would have been that her blood pressure spiked when dad lost his job (he's the breadwinner), in addition to numerous other 'disasters' that have happened to our family recently.
About two weeks after the event she was assessed at the hospital, but she is still waiting for an 'urgent' brain scan to see exactly what has happened in her head (typical NZ medical system- it takes too bloody long!)
There seems to be good awareness of the issue, as everyone on here has said the same thing- stroke related problems can happen from womb to tomb,and if something doesn't feel right, get it checked out!

[paddy]

This Was Never Meant To Happen To Me.
Rehab
Or “A Comedy In Twelve Fits”

The twelve fits relates to the twelve weeks I spent in Rehab.
From now on Nurses will be called Nurses, Doctors Doctors etc etc. I have short term memory loss and I can’t remember names.

I was duly transferred to a 4 bed room in the Rehab Ward.
Opposite me was a man with immaculately coiffed hair and beard. He got up in the morning, performed his ablutions and then spent the rest of the day sitting in a chair staring at his bed.
Bloody Hell, was this what awaited me? Not if I had anything to do with it.
A couple of Nurses appeared and transferred me to a wheelchair. This was looking better. But hang on, the chair had tiny little wheels that I couldn’t reach so I was stuck where I was put. That happened to be the Dining Room where the TV was tuned to commercial channels . I hope to never to see either Shopping Channels or Infomercials ever again! To get the Nurses to move me (anywhere) I was given a little bell to ring. If they were available they would come and see what I wanted. There wasn’t many of them.
So I spent a week working on my patience (I am not a patient person) and bowel/ bladder control (a bit iffy since my stroke) I also know all about robotic vacuum cleaners, stone cookware and all the myriad pieces of overpriced junk that inhabit daytime television.
After a week of enforced idleness I was assessed for a Self Propelled Wheelchair. You moved it by pushing or pulling on a lever on the left hand side (my right arm was trashed in the stroke)
Freedom! I could move without a Nurse although I still needed assistance with toileting and showering.
At about this time I decided to assert my independence. I had left a full packet of ciggies at home and I knew that Marilou didn’t throw out anything so I started asking her to bring me in one each day. I knew it wasn’t good for me but it was my act of rebellion. They tasted like shit! I persisted although I didn’t really like them. It was my way of saying “UP YOU” to my stroke, to being in hospital and to what my life had become. That lasted two weeks until I had a stand up (well not really but you know what I mean) fight with my Doctor about it. I haven’t had a smoke since.

Next: Learning to walk again.

[skyman]

Paddy, the story of your stroke made me realise that we can be struck down at any time, any place and even armourers are not bullet-proof . . . a scary thought and something to bear in mind.

As armourers we worked together on 75 Squadron more than a few years ago and I know all armourers are thinking of you and wishing you well.

Alan R. 

[paddy]

This Was Never Meant To Happen To Me.
Learning to walk again.

First, a few words about my amazing wife Marilou. While I was stuck in Hospital feeling sorry for myself she was keeping the family together and negotiating with Centrelink on my behalf. I don’t envy her at all with Centrelink. It’s sort of like “Hurry up and wait” but without the urgency. Every time she filed out a form they had either lost the one previous or discovered another one to fill in.

Thankyou my darling. You had to deal with Centrelink making things hard and myself trapped in the Hospital. You did magnificently and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Now a few words on what happens during and after a stroke at least how I understand it.
The Command and Control circuits for the afflicted parts of your body are basically destroyed. Fortunately the brain has a bit of redundancy in the nature of unused capacity that can take over from the damaged areas. Only problem is that you have to teach the new areas what to do. This is harder than you think. I have never raised a sweat before without moving a limb. It’s rather frustrating.
Around now I was introduced to my Physiotherapist and commenced learning to walk again. Otherwise known as torture (just kidding). I first walked from my bed to the door of the ward, about 10 metres. This took 5 minutes , two Physiotherapists supporting and lots of protests on my part. I was using a walking stick with four feet. The next day I made it to the Nurses Station (about two and a half times as far) so this was going well or so I thought.

At about this time Mum, Dad and my brother David arrived from New Zealand to visit. It was the first time we’d seen them in eight years. They were a sight for sore eyes. They stayed at home and visited me daily for a week. I did my utmost to walk while they were here. I didn’t succeed very well.
They were using my car while they were here and on day two it broke down just after they left the hospital. This was just what I needed, stuck in bloody hospital and the car dead. Does it never end? This would be complicated. But no, Sandra took care of it all and the car was back on Monday all fixed. I was extremely grateful but that was my job. For the first time I saw my autonomy slipping away. I was having to rely on others and I DIDN’T BLOODY LIKE IT!
Mum and Dad and David’s seven days were up so with a final beer with them (did I mention there was a Pub over the road from the hospital ?) they departed for New Zealand.
I remained trapped in Hospital learning to walk again.
Now I had one of those incredibly vivid dreams again. I dreamt that my whole ward had been moved to Post-Op. Problem was that they hadn’t moved our buzzers and, most importantly, our urinals. I woke up at about midnight with this incredible urge to go. What to do? I couldn’t wet the bed as I had no buzzer. No buzzer meant no Nurse and no clean sheets. I know, I’ll unlimber and piddle over the side of my bed. Problem solved. I did so and went back to sleep perchance to dream etc etc.
The next morning I woke up and checked the floor. It was dry! Thank God, it was only a dream. That “Dream” lasted until the Night Nurse started work again. She told me that she had come to check on me at 1am and nearly slipped in a large pool of indeterminate liquid and could I identify it. I could. After telling her the story of my dream we both cracked up although she did tell me to check next time whether it was reality or not.
One of the Nurses I had when I first arrived at Maitland Hospital came down to visit and to thank me. For what I asked (short term memory loss if you remember). She had told me of her bucket list. On it was a trip to Antarctica. She had always wanted to go and it was pencilled in for sometime in the indeterminate future. I told her to do it now because you never know when something like a stroke could happen. She took it to heart and booked her trip for February. I felt incredibly special that I could have that effect on her and very grateful that she would tell me. She watched me walking and told me that she had thought that I would never walk again and would be confined to a wheelchair for life.
So on and on went the learning to walk. I was walking with a stick and the assistance of two Nurses now. I was also engaging in what I called “Illegal Walking” This involved, if there were no Nurses available, of walking by myself with no one to support me. The Nurses viewed this with horror and were always lecturing me about it although, to this day, I wonder whether there was some form of tacit approval for it.
It’s now two weeks to Christmas, the tree is up in the dining room and everything is all festive!
Then Jacqui has to sprain her ankle at school. I met her and Marilou in A&E where we waited the obligatory five hours to be seen. Some things never change.(Unless you’ve had a stroke.) They X Rayed her ankle and taped it up. So Marilou had two invalids to take care of plus Centre Link to organize. Normally I would drive her to school but I was stuck in Hospital so Jacqui had a week off. There went even more of my autonomy and I STILL DIDN’T LIKE IT!
Along came the big day two days before Christmas where I was given my Green Cane Licence. This meant I could go anywhere I liked without anyone supporting me. I went back to my room to celebrate and promptly fell over for the first time!
Christmas was close and I had been given leave on Christmas and Boxing Day. (Only during the day. I had to be back at night or they would give my bed away.)
The big day came and I was wheeled down to Sandra’s car. It was the first time I had been out of Hospital in nearly two months and I was excited.
I walked in the front door and it was the strangest feeling. It was almost as if I was visiting a strangers house. My home was Maitland Hospital, not here. I couldn’t wait to go back.Boxing Day was a little better but not much. I felt like a interloper in my own house
I spoke to the nurses about this and was told that it was normal. Normal it may have been but nice it definitely wasn’t. Well back to the Hospital again. Problem was that all the rehab staff were on holiday so I was a stranger in a strange land there as well.
After two weeks of this the Rehab staff returned and life was back to normal.
I was told I was going home on the thirteenth of January. I couldn’t wait no matter how I felt over Christmas. It would all be as it once was right?
Before I left fate (or Centre Link) had one more thing to throw at me. The Social Worker told me that I would only get New Start Allowance for the next twelve months and not the Disability Support Pension as they wanted to see if I improved. My Doctor had said that it was impossible to say whether I would gain much more usage of my right arm and leg so Centre Link wanted to starve my family to see if that would make me better.
At this stage the Social Worker mistook my incredibly pissed off look for a “Woe is me, what is to become of us” look and advised me “to let it all out” ie: cry. She very quickly and pointedly got told THAT I DON’T DO THAT. I BEAT THE BASTARDS. I did about three weeks later.

Finally the day arrived and Sandra turned up to take me home. I walked the hundred yards to the car, kissed my favourite Nurse and left Maitland Hospital forever.

[suthg]

I love it! I love it!! What persistance and passion! Thanks...

[komata]

Paddy

Many thanks for your ongoing reports; they are very inspirational. As TIA's are now a fact of my life (to be avoided if at all possible), my wife especially is very appreciative of your notes, as they have given her an 'insider's' viewpoint'.

Per Adua ad Adastra (says it all, really).

Thanks again.