Wednesday, May 25, 2011

May Is National Stroke Awareness Month

The National Stroke Association has been encouraging survivors, family members, health professionals, and anyone who has been touched by stroke to submit their own stroke story on their website.

Here's my stroke story.

Fellow bloggers, share your stroke story!

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Compliments

When someone compliments my daughter--how high she can jump, for instance, or how well she can do the monkey bars--she says, "Of course I can! You know, I am 5 1/2 years old."

Sometimes when I see someone who I haven't seen for several months, they comment about how much my speech has improved. I'm always grateful for the acknowledgement. But every so often I think, "You know, I am 47 years old."

Monday, May 9, 2011

Spring

Some of my words and memories still seem to be lying dormant. Then when conditions are right, they poke up into my consciousness.

Last week my sister came by to prune my rosebushes. Then we walked around the yard. I'm not a great gardener, but when she commented about a particular plant, I was delighted that I could remember the name. That's sweet woodruff, I said. I started it from a few sprigs many years ago.
 
Almost every day I walk around the garden now, and almost every day I remember more: bleeding hearts, that I almost pulled up that first summer in our house; irises, that my friend brought from Philly, nine years ago; the peony, that never blooms but always looks on the verge of it.

These are my memories, my words, I thought proudly. My garden.

Monday, May 2, 2011

Lost in Space

A few weeks ago, I ordered some new shoes to go with my new brace. Neal filmed me walking to try to figure out if I'm walking correctly with the new shoes.

When I watched the video, I was surprised. I looked liked a person who has a  limp, but it wasn't too bad. Sometimes I have a slight circular motion with every step. 

But with either new shoes or old, I feel like each step is stepping into the void. I have some sensation, but a bigger problem is this: I know my right leg is somewhere, but I don't know where. It's like my brain and my right leg are trying to call each other, but each call is met by static.

Isn't any wonder why I'm so tired?