Starting Over

The Story of My Stroke:

Part 1: The Experience

They say a cat has nine lives. I’ve never given much thought to that really. But I know that I’ve got at least two. This is my story of one of those lives ending and another beginning.

Chapter 1: My Weekend

Wow, a weekend to myself. This never happens! Larry has meetings in Mexico City. Larz and Kyle are off to college. And Devin is heading to Idaho for Ballroom competitions with his team. What will I do with myself?

I’m a very independent woman; I like having time to myself. So, lots of ideas were floating through my head. Pampering? Shopping? Just being lazy…. I love my family and being with them, but having a weekend to myself was a fun little treat—a mini-vacation.

Friday, February 27, 2010 started off great, with lots of fun plans. I went to Dream Dinners and made a bunch of meals for the family. I love that place, yummy meals that taste like homemade. Then I went out with my sister, Robin and her daughters. We went shopping for wedding dresses for Caitlin. Caitlin looked so pretty!

Later that afternoon, I treated myself to a meal with my good friends, Julie & Melinda. It was just a fun day, spending time with people I care about. No pressure to hurry my visits. I went home and spent a nice quiet evening at home, pampering myself with a warm bath, my favorite reading, and brief talk with Larry in Mexico.

The next morning, I was lazy and slept in, awaking to a bright day. As I lay in bed I thought I might wander the mall, maybe even get a massage. After a really slow morning, I finally coaxed myself into heading downstairs to our little exercise room to workout before going to play. I’d been working real hard for the past couple of months getting toned. I’d lost 10 pounds and wanted my body to be ready for hiking in Waterton this summer.

I turned on some favorite exercise tunes and started using the Bowflex. For some reason, I was struggling with getting the machine to work right. It seemed confusing and difficult. I switched to free weights and started doing a few curls. I had only done a couple when my arm dropped the weight. That’s weird. I picked it up again, and dropped it again. I picked it up again and this time told my hand, “Grip it; grip it!” Again my hand failed, the weight dropped, and this time my left leg gave out too! I crashed into the wall, feeling like I’d been thrown against it. (I later discovered a nasty bruise on my shoulder.)

Now I was a little worried. I lay on the floor and cried. My body was betraying me and I couldn’t understand what was wrong. I said a little prayer that I would be okay and would be able to get back up. As I tried to figure out what was wrong, I had a fleeting thought, “stroke?” But dismissed it even before the thought really registered. I’m too young!(I'm only 46.)

I decided I must have pinched a nerve or I just lifted the weights wrong and damaged something. My left arm and leg still weren’t working, so I crawled up the stairs. I went to the couch and decided to watch some Olympics. I felt foggy and couldn’t focus on the TV. I thought, I’ll just go take a nap and I’ll be okay.

I woke up just minutes later to the phone ringing. My mother-in-law, Nancy, was calling me. We don’t talk on the phone much since we do most of our visiting in person, so I wasn’t sure why she would be calling. I don’t remember what she said. It didn’t make much sense to me. Apparently I didn’t make much sense to her either.

“Are you alright?” she asked.

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m just tired.”

She responded back, “You aren’t alright. I can’t understand a thing you are saying. We are coming right over.”

Secretly, I was so relieved to hear those words. But, they also scared me. I had to face the reality that something bad might be happening.

I texted Larry in Mexico, “I’m scared. My arm won’t work.” He had just stepped off the stage after finishing a speech. I guess I scared him too. He called me right back on the home line. Larry tried to find out what was wrong but struggled to understand me. I was slurring my words with him. After asking yes and no questions, Larry told me that he thought I had had a stroke. He told me he had to hang up and get me help to go to the hospital. I broke into tears. I couldn’t go to the hospital! I was alone! You don’t go to the hospital when your family isn’t there to support you! And only really sick people go to the hospital. I didn’t want to be that really sick person. I told him I wasn’t going to go, but we both knew I would. I was so scared!

Larry planned to call an ambulance but called his parents first so they could be there for me at the hospital. When they answered he found that they were already on their way to our house and he asked them to rush me to the emergency room. He told them his guess that I’d had a stroke.

My in-laws, Larry (senior) and Nancy, arrived just a minute or two later and found me struggling through my tears, doing my best to gather the things I thought I might need at the hospital. Larry’s dad helped me out to their car and drove me to the hospital. I wanted to be back by evening but I had a feeling that I was falling down the rabbit hole. How deep would it go?