Then and Now - Ramblings

It was a miracle.
It's been three months. 
Like the first stroke, I was awake.
It was a miracle.
I remember the commands from Jackie: "Joe, talk to me." 
I could see her, there was no voice to respond to her commands.
Different than the first, there was no sunshine. 
I was flying in the sky. 
It was a long journey from the house to the first station, 
and even longer to the city.
But it was a miracle.
Different from the first stroke, a new procedure was done.
Mechanical thrombectomy. 
It was not a common term, but it was the best thing to come out of this debacle.  
The tube, the artery to the brain, and the clot that was no more: like 1, 2, 3, and the blood flowed. 
It was a new thing to consider the dinner table. 
It was a miracle.

It was a nightmare.
Like the first stroke, I left the city hospital. 
Different than the first stroke, I went to a rehab hospital.
It was a nightmare.
I was checked in, a peek at my records and there was trouble. 

A name and a birthday date were the only facts that were correct. 

Diabetes - No! Blood Pressure - No! Any condition - No! 

Here's to the professional who corrected data, and no foreign medication administered to me.
I wanted to go home.

It was a nightmare.
Different than the first the stroke, I was not home. 
I was checked from top to bottom. Nobody asked. They just did. 

They checked EVERYTHING. 
I was escorted to the bathroom, and was not alone until I was sitting. 

When I was done, I called and they came. 

I stood up.

When I took a shower, I had company. 

When I shaved I had company.

Safety first. 

In hindsight, it was a miracle. 

At the time it was a nightmare.

It was a just a little mistake.
Like the first stroke, I was making blunders.
I could not find my keys,
and they should have been on the key rack.
I couldn't find them anywhere.
I looked everywhere.
"Did you look on the key rack?"
said you-know-who.
It was just a little mistake.
There was a rack of spoons around the corner.
After hours of looking...
There it was.
Just like keys misplaced, like crackers in the fridge,
It was just a little mistake.
Luckily, there are mistake organizers for pills.

White, yellow, orange, pink, blue...
Like the first stroke, there are many. 
There were none before the first stroke.
A rainbow helps correct the confusion because
It was a just a little mistake.



It is a blessing.
Like the first stroke, there were many things that were not working.
The outpatient physical and occupational therapists brought my to an acceptable level.
My right side continues to improve.
It is a blessing.
Like the first stroke, there were no words, and there words now.
It's going to be an uphill climb, but there will be some kind of sense of what ticks in my brain.
The speech therapist will help me, and she already does.
It is a blessing.
Like the first stroke, there have been friends...
Friends who have been there, good friends, praying friends.

They are a blessing.

Some friends have suffered with illness, older and younger.
They inspire me to go on with this journey I must face.

I admire them for going on with their journeys. I pray for their speedy recovery.
It is a blessing.
I have my family. 
Like the first stroke, they came to me.
They are mine. I am theirs.
No words. Just love.
It is a blessing.

A new year of plentiful miracles and blessings to all, 

and no nightmares and no little mistakes...

What a surprise!

I got a stroke.                                                                 

Was the second stroke.
Was listened to the second debate with Jackie.

She was talking to me and I didn't answer.        
9-1-1.
Brandywine Hospital for a TPA.
Helicopter ride to Jefferson Hospital.
Surgery.
Groin to brain.
Dissolved the stroke.
My family was me: Jackie, Kevin, John, Karen, Brain--all the night.
Monday, stroke was gone.
Right sight didn't move.
Each day was an adventure.
But Thursday, I moved.
Friday, this was a move to Bryn Mawr Rehab.
Weekend, Tests.
Monday, they found a clot in my leg, and I could not move out of the bed.
There was a third stroke before the second one.
Tuesday was better, got a drug that will be there forward.
Wednesday, good for walking, 1.25 miles with a physical therapist.
Thursday, Finished with the toilet, called nurse and I broke the cord.
He came in and here I was with the cork in my hand.
Oops!
Friday, I feel I can move.
A lot of things to thing better.
One day at a time...

Two helicopters for two strokes...one team

This is Jon. He was my nurse both times.

Homemade soup from a friend.

Julius

Once upon a time, there was a boy who caught grasshoppers that were beautiful and brave, and let them go. One time, he caught one with only one hind leg. He put him in a jar and punched holes in the lid, and he called the grasshopper 'Julius.' He cared for Julius for three weeks, changing the grass often. The boy loved the creature. His mother didn't. Then Julius died. The boy loved model cars and had a model hearse with a little coffin. Julius would lie in state for an evening and then he and his coffin were inserted in the hearse. Soon, the boy grew into a teenage young man and forgot the hearse and the coffin and Julius, and the three were tucked into drawer with all the other model cars. Years later, when it was time to inspect and dispose of anything that appeared broken or unwanted, the not-so-young teenage man found the hearse, then the coffin, then Julius. The brave creature was still intact. The young man still admired him. The young man's mother did not. That was the last time I - I mean - the young man saw Julius, the coffin, and the hearse.

     

"Haven't seen a beautiful
grasshopper like this in ages!
So cool!
What a brave creature!"
~ Jackie Wasylkiw Bonanno 

Silly? I don't think so. Have you ever had a memory come to the surface? Was it hidden for a few decades? Memories are therapy. Jackie was the inspiration, though she was not there during those boy and teenage young man years. On this day in early October, Jackie was inspired by a grasshopper. A 'perfect picture' weather day, and an ordinary creature...and her photo and quote transformed into a real cool Facebook post. Her excitement in showing her 'new friend' to me...it was contagious. A simple memory; a 'boy' story; a cherished, beautiful Mom. Jackie's eulogy to Julius went like this: "St. Julius! Patron saint of one-legged grasshoppers!" I love her style! I  love memories.