So this post has been rattling around in my head for the last week. I wasn’t sure I knew how to write it or more accurately where to start. I had thoughts possibly of not writing it. Denial, as I am sure you are aware is a wonderful thing or can be a wonderful thing until the thing which we are denying comes back to bite us in the ass. I also realized if I wanted to continue to live, I couldn’t continue to live in denial.
The long and the short of it is this; the evening of Thursday, April 26th I suffered a mini-stroke. Also known as a TIA or Transient Ischemic Attack. There I was finishing the first therapy session of the night and I felt numbness from the top of my right jaw which extended to the right side of my mouth. It freaked me out! Because it lasted about 2-minutes, I decided after telling my wife that I would also complete the second therapy session of the night.
I finished the therapy session and my wife drove me to the hospital. I say this like I was a willing participant in this decision. My future daughter-in-law, also an RN completed a quick neurological assessment and despite everything looking positive, said, “I’m calling a friend at the hospital and you need to go.” At that point, I became a willing participant.
So, here I sit at my keyboard and attempt to put these thoughts down on paper. It isn’t any easier a two weeks later. I wake up and put on a happy face which is a thin veneer covering the fear below. I completed my first week back at work and see things a lot differently. I notice I have less tolerance for whining and complaining. Less tolerance for people who don’t accept accountability for their life, their choices and blame others for the consequences which are a direct result of their own actions.
When I was in the hospital, my wife called me every morning and asked me if I needed or wanted anything. Beyond being discharged and coming home, which wasn’t in her or my realm of control, I wanted for nothing. I had thoughts of having her bring my journal and a fountain pen since this has always been my emotional release, but I didn’t ask. I wanted those things, but I didn’t. I wasn’t sure I wanted to document this event despite its importance in my life and the fear which it struck in my heart.
I wasn’t ready to face the suddenness of the attack and now that two weeks have passed, I’m not sure I want it anywhere in my memory other than a healthy “remember when.” I know, in order to continue to live a happy and healthy life, I need to make changes.
The word curmudgeon comes to mind. The Urban Dictionary defines curmudgeon as somebody considered to be bad-tempered, disagreeable, or stubborn. Curmudgeons are usually defined and cast as grumpy old men. I can be grumpy but I’m not. I just hate stupidity, laziness and those who refuse to accept accountability for their behaviors. I take pride in being an independent thinker. I don’t take popular or easy positions and I’m not afraid to go against the grain. If this makes me a curmudgeon, then so be it. I’m happy to be in the club. Anyway, not to get off on a tangent, but I know my personality can lead to increased blood pressure, which in my case is not what I need. I try to see the viewpoints of others, but often they’re just too stupid and I find my blood pressure getting even higher. Better to just avoid these folks.
Coffee or perhaps the coffee which I was drinking, “Death Wish Coffee” will have to go. I went to the company’s website and cancelled my monthly subscription. I thought I heard a collective groan coming from the company as I’m sure my decision will have a negative impact on the companies budget. For now, it’s half-caf and caffeine free tea. The transition has been surprisingly easy. The caffeine is not something I ever needed, but damn, the taste of that coffee!! Delicious!! That, I will miss.
This morning, after a restful night, I completed my third post-stroke run. I don’t have any running goals at this time other than to help manage and maintain my emotional and physical health. My running was cut short last year because of knee surgery and a bout of depression which set in and which I ignored. My only goal in running, with respect to my health, is to keep getting up, enjoying the solitude of the morning and my plodding stride
I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and journaling about what happened, my health, my practice and my family. I carry a coin in my pocket. On one side it reads “Memento Mori, Remeber Death. The opposite side of the coin reads “You could leave here tomorrow.”
While this may seem morbid, it is the reminder that at any moment often without notice, our lives may be snatched away. Death does not come to us and ask permission. It arrives slowly in the form of a debilitating illness or suddenly in the form of a heart attack or stroke. Regardless, it is there waiting for us all. What matters most is how we choose to live the lives we were given at the time of our birth and death. We can spend it complaining about the things we don’t have instead of feeling gratitude for the gift of life which we do have.