Last week I had minor surgery. I haven't been hospitalized since Spaulding.
In the two years since, I've been trying to recover the many functions I lost: walking, talking, right arm movement. I've also been learning new things, things that I wouldn't have to learn if I didn't have a stroke: how to fill out medical forms with my left hand; how to be sure that an infection doesn't blossom in my right side, where I can't feel much; how to explain to the hospital aide why, no, I can't spell my husband's last name out loud.
After surgery, I had some crackers and ginger ale in the recovery room, trying to shake off the groggy feeling. After a while, the anesthesiologist came by again, wanting to know if I was ready to go home.
"Do you think you're back to baseline?" she asked.
Baseline? What baseline?
16 hours ago