A little more conversation please

This flower was given to me by a very good friend when I was in hospital, it gave me so much joy and started so many conversations with passing strangers. 

Over the past few days  I have got stopped twice by people that I do know but have not seen for years. I was greeted with a "it's Jo isn't it?, lovely to see you, what are you doing with yourself these days?" 

It's strange to think how much a job/career can defy us. I really don't like saying I'm not well enough to work right now. It's a good thing that I physically look well but I feel it also makes it harder to explain my current situation.  When I have to explain that I have had a stroke, the first thing I see is  the look of surprise on peoples faces. Almost as if they think it could be a very distasteful joke.

If you know me well or take a particular good look at me there are signs of my stroke still there but to a passing stranger I look like a normal 37 year old. I am

not complaining, this is because I have chosen to fight it and not let it defy me but it gets so awkward. 

I was delighted with the way each conversation went though as thought I  must be starting to look a bit more approachable again. I think spending the last year having to concentrate on walking, avoiding any obstacles like fellow human beings passing me, trying to filter noises all around me etc has not  made myself look particularly friendly or that I want a to engage in a conversation with anybody. 

They will probably never know what a boost those conversations gave me but I shall thank them here anyway.  Hopefully there are many more chatty conversations to come in the near future. 

Goodbye Paul Anka

Come on arm, just move

Because the brain cells that I used to control my left side had died, I had to learn how to control my arm through new ones. Isn't the brain amazing? It is a hard and exhausting process to go through but obviously so worth it when you start seeing results. I did not see instant results but if I had not listened to my physiotherapists and taken their advice then I would not have been able to do things like my paint my nails yesterday (maybe not as tidy as I would like, but not a bad job) 

Remember 

Is the first advice that I got given. The physios would  ask me where my left hand was and I would not be able to locate it. So I had to remind my brain that it was there. Not a easy task but I was determined to get myself "back to normal"- a ongoing process still. My hand and arm became my little baby and I looked after it and watched it. There was no movement at all in it by this point so I would control it by using my right hand but would always know where it was and keep it in my view as much as I could. 

Let it go

(Let it go) was the next stage. I had remembered it so now was the time to try to start using it again. So many times, I went through the motions of attempting to squeeze a bit of toothpaste out of the tube but very little happening but I was assured that this was helping my brain to remember. I knew it was working really as at this point there was a tiny second where I thought it would be easier just to always use my right hand for everything as my brain hurt so much and I very often ended up in tears. They were not tears of frustration but my mind felt like it was being squeezed. I still get this feeling but it is becoming less and less thankfully.

I would put my arm on a surface and it would be so heavy that while the rest of my body would be getting ready to leave that particular spot, my arm would remain there even though I was attempting to always remember it. That is when I decided to name my arm as it did not feel like it was 100 % part of my body. I have loved the TV series, The Gilmore Girls for years and with the dvd player I was brought into hospital I watched it yet again and was reminded of Paul Anka the dog, so that was it my arm became known to me as Paul Anka. I have too many Lorelais in my life to go for the obvious name as I loved the Gilmore Girls when my daughter was a baby so a lot of her toys were named Lorelai as my daughter used to call girls in general "gilmore girls" bless her.

The next part of life with Paul Anka was pushing. Again like with my whole recovery I have decided to always attempt something more difficult and always have a goal. When I left hospital my arm was moving for me every now and again. I could not pick anything up, big or small but I could hold a satsuma if directly placed in my hand for a a short while.  I could not hold a fork so I ate using my right hand only. I would place the fork in my left hand for a minute or two every meal time (again just reminding my brain). This really does work and I can understand how people think it is easier to give up than fight as it is without a doubt the hardest thing I have ever had to go through but IT IS WORTH IT. That very first time you can pick up a fork and move it in your hand or the time you can move your arm to get the food into your mouth or the moment you eventually get some toothpaste out of the tube- those moments make it all worthwhile.

One day I had to say goodbye Paul Anka, Hello arm. You may be weak and slow but I shall make you strong again. This is a working progress.