123 days stroke free: Three Months Later

Well. It certainly has been a long and twisted road. August 7th, 2008 @ around 1:00 pm marks three months since my life changing stroke occurred. In all honesty, it feels longer. I’ve come a long way but there’s still so much more to be done. I’ve fallen short of doing the whole lifestyle change goal I had set out when this all happened. I’ve failed to get healthy. I’ve faltered in my faith and keeping my time with God. And I’m dealing with the emotional mine field that a stroke creates. How’s that for progress? As Charlie Brown would say, “Good grief!”.

Physically I’m doing better. My left leg is still cumbersome and my left arm has improved. So I’ll take a win in that column. The emotions are another struggle. Anyone who has struggled with depression (*raises hand*) understands how it can be great one moment and a tunneling to the center of the earth the next. The big red button that does it for me is my leg. I made the mistake (and it was a stupid one I will readily admit) in not going to physical therapy as my doctor recommended. I can honestly tell you I have no idea the direct and immediate reason that led me to do this but I can say I just didn’t feel like it for some reason.

Perhaps if I had I might be doing better in recovery thus far.

The leg is a big fat weight to me. At times I feel like a disabled freak show when I walk and the whispers of what “they” must think of me swirl menacingly through my mind. Other times I feel like a incomplete person. My leg and the stroke has made me more careful in what I can and can’t do. The chance of a head injury has steered me away from most sports and the inability to coordinate that left limb is another. Even if I wanted to socially drink (believe me at 26 I thought I might start) I’m too afraid that combined my lightweight status and the blood thinners in my veins would lead to possible disaster.

There is also the problem of me simply getting the bloody hell out of my shell and moving. I’m not sure if the stroke exacerbated my hermit-ness but it’s getting to a point where I was out with coworkers for drinks and I said nothing.

Nothing. I didn’t crack jokes. I didn’t expand. Share. I simply hung out and laughed (had a great time enjoying that actually) but I didn’t join in. People have asked me if I’m OK and the only response I can come up is a deferential, “Yea, I’m doing ok. Just tired.” This damned stroke and the after effects are doing me just about as much good as a lobotomy.

Perhaps that’s a little extreme. But that’s how it feels to be me sometimes. Other days it’s a great time had by all.

In other words it’s just like they said it would be. A life changing journey of immeasurable proportions that cannot be quantified by those that haven’t experienced it. Don’t take this post as if everything’s gone wrong and I’m so depressed with a bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand while I down some Captain Morgan with the other.

If that ever happens it’ll be very evident. I ain’t givin’ up. I’ve got old friends I’m going to be leaning on as days go by and trying to find support systems around Denver as well as a Church to call home.

This is life. It may not be fun right now, but it’s bound to improve.

(Aaron’s brain says, – amazing used of the English language there in the second to last block of text Aaron…as a note if you’re going to be an English geek at least do it right…yeesh)