The Good Stuff

(Originally published 05/22/08)

Recovery is never over with a stroke and many residual effects, as they call them, stay a long time and some are still with me today.

If you were to meet me, you would see a tall, slim lady who appears totally healthy. I walk normally unless I'm really tired and I have limited use of my left arm and hand but even that doesn't show at first sight. And yeah, I probably keep it hidden -- it bothers me when someone I barely know asks, "What's wrong with you?" I just hate explaining such things to total strangers.

As time went on I improved by doing instead of therapy and I developed a routine that gradually grew more and more normal. I went back to a lot of the things I enjoyed and, surprisingly, a lot of really nice things happened as a result of catastrophe.

* I think I mentioned that the hospital's rehab department was relatively new when my stroke occurred so I was one of their first "success stories". One day I got a call from a lady in their PR Department who explained that they were featuring the Rehab Department in the hospital's magazine and that Cyndi, my rehab nurse, thought that I would be a great candidate for it and she asked if she could interview me. She came out with a photographer who took pictures of me and the Dynamic Duo. The little hams loved it. Turns out it was a two page spread. I wanted to include a couple pictures from it but couldn't figure out how to do it properly. Maybe someday . . .

* A year or so after the stroke, I saw an article in my local paper featuring Cyndi because she, in conjunction with the Heart Association and the hospital, was founding a support group for stroke victims and their families in memory of her grandfather who suffered a particularly debilitating stroke. I called the next day and asked, "What can I do to help?" She thanked me and asked me to let her think about it. Imagine my surprise when she called back abs asked me to speak at the first meeting! Of course, despite my trepidation, I said yes because she is on the list of people I like and respect so much, I can't say no. What I remember was that I was incredibly nervous I spoke to a packed house filled with staff from the hospital and a lots of stroke patients and their families. Cyndi's dream was a reality.

The only thing I remember from my speech was the opening line that I added after checking out the audience: "I'm glad to see that Dr. Burkholder is with us tonight. He's my neurologist and I hope he'll assist the Code Blue team I requested for when I collapse from nervousness." I proceeded to tell my story and closed by thanking all the wonderful people who helped me.

After my talk we mingled and one man came up to me and asked, "Do you drive?" I said, "I sure do!" He said, "I'm going to, too!" A year later, one Saturday afternoon he knocked at my door grinning with his car keys dangling from his fingers. I invited him in so my family could cheer!

Our group continued and I served as the first president. Our programs included picnics, various speakers and some really interesting things like the deaf choir that signed from a church that ministered to the deaf.

* When I found out that Academy Award-winning actress Patricia Neal (also a stroke survivor at a young age) was going to be in town to speak at our annual Town Hall lecture series, I was on the phone to Cyndi post haste. She managed to get in touch with the chairman, the wife of one of our leading industrialists, who spoke to Ms. Neal about our request and she not only agreed to meet with our group but came in a day early to do so! She also arranged for anyone who was interested from our group to attend her lecture the next day at no cost.

Something sort of funny happened. I, as president, was part of the welcoming contingent and I got a chuckle when I overheard her ask someone why I was there. Cyndi was quick to tell her that I was a stroke survivor, too. I was good. I stifled an urge to say, "Hey, Pat? You're not the only one who stroked out young and had a good recovery." That aside, she gave a wonderful talk and was gracious to all of us and made a point of speaking to everyone personally.

Her lecture the next day was excellent as well. I attended with a contingent from our group and she had seen to it that we had really good seats! What a lady! Her commitment to victims (Lord! How I hate that word!) er, survivors of stroke and rehabilitation is incredible!

* A few months later, at my request, we were honored to have, Jacquelyn Mayer Townsend, Miss Ohio 1962 and Miss America 1963, as our speaker. She suffered a stroke in 1970 at the age of twenty-eight. Meeting this beautiful woman from Sandusky -- only five years older than me -- was a real inspiration to me. My stroke's residual effects were mostly physical; hers affected her speech and brain functions. That she is a motivational speaker today is a miracle. We Ohio gals are fighters. At this point, I can see a lot of parallels between our lives. She has been more successful than I professionally but the bottom line is that we both are survivors and overcame a lot rather than give up on a normal life. I'm guessing that since, like me, she was a young mother at the time of her stroke was a great motivator to recover.

* At our annual picnic, my preschool kids had a blast. They acquired a whole bunch of extra grandparents among the membership. They had no compunction about meeting and talking to our mostly elder members -- and my usually shy daughter was in rare form climbing in the laps of some of our wheelchair-bound members to their delight. I got the distinct impression that many of them had children who didn't allow their children to enjoy them because of their disabilities. As my 80-something friend Helen, who was in the hospital with me, said, "We're disabled, not dead."

* Years later, I heard from one of my son's teachers about how good he was with the MRDD children in his junior high school. And I heard a great story from a teenager with spina bifida who attended high school with my Kate. He told me that he really liked her because she wasn't afraid to treat him the same as she treated everyone. It seems that one day he teased her and she turned around and told him to behave or she'd take the wheels off his chair and leave him sit. I was appalled and he told me not to be because he deserved it and he appreciated that she wasn't afraid of him or mean to him like most of the other kids. My son was a great favorite at the Jewish community center with the swimming class he taught for MRDD adults while he was in high school. My illness gave them experiences that made them better, more compassionate, more tolerant people and I am grateful for that.

* One of the tasks I taught myself was tying my sneakers one-handed. For some unknown reason, I really hated the velcro kind and refused to wear them although it would have been easier. My physical therapist, Buffy, was fascinated that I figured out a way to do it. Once in a while as time passed, I would get a call saying that she hadn't seen me in a while and would I stop by and see her some afternoon. I couldn't, and still can't, say "no" to those good folks and would pop in to find there was someone -- usually male -- who wanted to learn to tie his shoes one-handed.

It seems a small thing but it means a great deal to be able to dress oneself the way one wants. These are just a few of the blessings that graced my life as I recovered.

Next week (I hope) after I return from my trip to Motown's suburbs, I'll wrap up this part of my life and in coming weeks will begin sharing the next chapters on How I got to Be Me.

AND never fear, thanks to Blogger's new scheduling feature, The Friday Groaner and The Groaner of the Week will be in their proper places on their proper days. I did a test run with it and it works a treat, as my English buddies say!

Happy Blogging!!!!!!!

Kay