I know it has been awhile since I have posted. I know, I know...shame on me. A little update: it has been nearly 4 years since my stroke. I do notice that I get tired more quickly. I tried to go to the local Rec. Center again to do some exercises and lift weights. That was really exciting...for about 3 weeks. Then it seems I hit a wall. I was tired, I seemed to lose some stamina quickly. It does seem, too, that my swallowing is a little more sporadic. What I mean by that is that I find myself having to stop in the middle of conversations at time because I cannot seem to swallow when I talk.
I did receive this the other day from another stroke survivor. She is only 26 years old and wants to share some insights to others. I have not edited any of her comments, so it appears exactly as I received it.
"At 25 years old, I was untamable, spunky, spontaneous, moody, rebellious, occupied and preoccupied with love, radiating energy, full of life, healthy, fit, goal-oriented, driven, narcissistic, the list goes on and on. Most importantly, I was unprepared. At now 26 years old, I’ve discovered another trait that I didn’t even know the meaning of: strength. It’s hard to explain everything that happened since then until now. It feels like in this past year I’ve endured a bone-chilling winter, except that I live in Texas, so it’s scorching hot. But you get the metaphor.
I also think that as a means of self-preservation I have repressed many memories. All I have are snippets from a year that was stolen from me by illness and that I will never get back. But it’s not the year I want. In that year I’ve experienced so many events. While most people, I presume, process highs and lows, I’ve had to process the good and the bad simultaneously. As in side by side; parallel. One with the other. Like a sweet n sour soup of events, where it seems kind of illogical to mix the opposing flavors. But it works. Somehow.
I had a stroke. (Period) That sentence portrays a statement that simply is concluded by mere punctuation. As if in life it was really that simple. In reality, I am still feeling the cruel and bitter repercussions of that stroke. There has been no end point after the stroke. Just day after day of an array of never-ending very similar days. It’s a fight. Except it’s not a fair one. I’m battling to recover parts of myself that were mine, but were stolen. Strokes steal. They take essential movements, functions, independence. They are not apologetic either. If I want something back, I have to work hard and maybe, just maybe I’ll have a semblance of normalcy again.
And while I’m fighting this battle, life kept happening. And it kept going at a pace for which I was not ready for. I don’t know if I’ll ever be at that pace again. But I’ll certainly try.
The most unfair part is that I have been fighting this fight alone. It’s not unfair to me; it’s unfair to others like me, who I have not reached out to. I want others to know that no one has to go through this alone. If there is any way I can help, please contact me. That would make this all worth it. ( email me at:Lili.email@example.com )
I trusted in people who were responsible for my well-being and they failed me. Manufacturers of prescription drugs had a moral duty ( Pradaxa drug injury) to protect my health. I have an obligation to make others aware of my story. Although, I know that my life is changed in many ways, my faith tells me that every new day is a chance to make things better; to keep trying. Although there are many things I can’t do, there are many more that I CAN do."
Keep on praying, keep on trusting and always remember that the greatest miracle of God in my life was not the ability to walk, it was being regenerated by the grace of God.