as first seen on Breach Bang & Clear. thanks to he guys for sticking by me!
I woke around 4am on 21/11/2016, thirsty, unsurprising as I had run the Tough Mudder the day before that (my fifth time), and been out in the heat that day, and whilst I had studiously hydrated before, during and after, I had also had a rather heated hero's welcome before hitting the pillow that that evening. Choking on my bed-side water, my partner Lorin woke up, and took my bottle away. I objected somewhat incoherently. That was a warning sign. Lorin was immediately worried, and asked me to smile, and raise my hands and I didn't do too well. She called my other partner Omega in and I flubbed the "raise your hands and smile" test" for her too. They suspected I was having a stroke and called an ambulance. I was collected shortly afterwards and zipped off to the local hospital. I managed to request pants so had some Thai fisherman pants on for the simulation of dignity.
They apparently sedated me, or I passed out, because I woke up the next day (I think) to find that I had indeed had a stroke, determined by an MRI and CT scans that I had no memory of.
I was also put on a heavy regime of "clotbuster" drugs, and on oxygen for a day or so... It was noted that I had left-side Hemiplagia (partial paralysis) and dysarthria (slurred speech).
Removal of the clot may be attempted in those where it occurs within a large blood vessel and may be an option for those who either are not eligible for or do not improve with intravenous thrombolytics. Significant complications occur in about 7%
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I barely drink, have never smoked, or partake in recreational drugs. Apparently "really fit 40 year-olds" and older, overweight smokers are who they usually see. I'm apparently in the first category.
I was partially paralysed for a little while, but hardly remember that, but was frequently examined and tested wiht the 'squeeze my fingers and "lift your feet' tests as well as the more tedious "whats your name?" and "date of birth?" and "do you know where you are?", "what happened to you?" and "what day it is?" tests. Given the nature of my condition, and the unknown amount of brain damage I sustained by both the lack-of-blood to the brain, and the squeezing effect of a cerebral bleed.
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to stave off further clots from inactivity. These caused a lurid pattern of bruises on my belly! like paintball welts, without the fame, glory or fun.
Another aspect of this was that when i needed to pee, as I wasn't catheterized (thankfully) was that I needed to pee into a pee-bottle such as the one to the left modeled by Lorin. A lifetime of of "don't wet the bed or pee in your wetsuit" reflexes had to be overcome. Speaking of, I also had to learn to use a bed-pan, for pooping in, which Lorin also helped me out with, with the wiping.
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I had another round of CT scans, and they determined that I wasn't in much risk of further brain bleeds, and could stand some standing, so they got me up and out of bed, under some serious supervision. After proving I could stand and move from foot to foot, and balance on each foot without falling over, I was cleared to use the wheelchair to go to the bathroom on my own. I wheeled myself there, moved from chair to toilet on my own, and managed to use the facilities all on my own.
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If symptoms last less than one or two hours it is known as a transient ischemic attack (TIA) or mini-stroke.[3]
A hemorrhagic stroke may also be associated with a severe headache.[3] The symptoms of a stroke can be permanent. Long-term complications may include pneumonia or loss of bladder control. I was fortunate not to acquire the headaches. I had weakness in my hands and a bit wobbly, and some slack in my face that made me slur a little, but I appeared not to have lost any of my faculties. I was cautiously walking by the third week in hospital, and able to not only go the bathroom by my self but also bathe, with the use of a shower-chair by myself, though I had very enjoyable supervision from Lorin... who also washed my hair and reminded me to scrub my pits and brush my teeth!
It was in the Second week of my stay that I was taken off 'mushy-food and thick liquids. I had been seen as a choking risk, and no-one want's aspiration pneumonia from inhaling hospital mush. The xanthan gum thickened water and juice were strange, and most people would find it off-putting, but I remembered similar drinks at Houston Space Center, growing up. Astronaut drinks for me! I was spared too much hospital pap by my loving, supportive family, who took food orders, and snuck me in BBQ ribs, burgers and even Nando's picknic's to the formally-frowning and informally pleased nods of the nursing staff. Even though, I was ravenous. AND ate both my hospital meals AND whatever extra snacks came my way. And even on bed-rest for three weeks I infact LOST 15-20 kg. Brain injury recovery is hungry business, yo. All totally normal. Being on bed-rest also meant I was getting intra-abdominal klexane injection is my belly at lunchtime every day. Not overly painful , but bruised me and made me ache.
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first, and then by other people who came in, having heard I was taking visitors and building LEGO. Not only was it a blast from childhood, but also good for fine motor skills, cognition but also spatial awareness. One thing it alerted my eagle -eyed Occupational Therapists to was a thing they call "perseveration" where when faced with a "wrong-but-close" situation such as "brick in wrong spot" I now have a tendancy to just keep doing the wrong thing, in the hope it will just come good. This same effect has made me mis-type passwords till I lock accounts too. Now I am aware of it, I can be on the look out for this behavior and apply 'if at first you don't succeed" logic to the problem. Omega and Lorin are on the watch for it so, so I don't keep bumping into wall like a broken robot for hours ...
Being at the rehab hospital also meant trips to the gym, for supervised physiotherapy. This consisted of time on the elliptical machine to warm up, then a 3kg dumbell routine, and ankle weights routine. They also had me do a balance course, on parallel bars, with uneven ground underneath whilst balancing tennis balls on my hands. It turns out that having a stroke hasn't magically improved my balance any but my reflexes sem to be ok still.
The Neuro-psychology team got their hands on me, pre-dicharge and ran an extensive set of IQ tests and the like on me to see how much damage to my brain meats had been done when the clot and burst artery starved me of bloodflow. I was curious how they would assess my "before incident" ability, but apparently the tests were sophisticated enough to give a baseline. Of the seven areas being assessed: General intellectual ability, general knowledge and verbal abstract reasoning, non-verbal fluid reasoning, constructional problem solving, spatial planing and arithmetical reasoning. I had been baselined as "likely superior" in all areas "before" at the time of assessment was found to be "average" in most and falling withing the "low average range"in arithmetical reasoning.
So, it seems that at the time of assessment i've had some damage, and don't math so well. I'll be re-assessed as part of my "return to work preparation" and the hope is that in the meantime, my brain will be-self-repairing and i'll recover a lot of my "superior status" in time. I've been doing more LEGO, to build up my spatial planning and fine manual dexterity and problem solving skills sets.
In addition to neurological impairment, hemorrhagic strokes usually cause specific symptoms (for instance, subarachnoid hemorrhage classically causes a severe headache known as a thunderclap headache). I've been very lucky in that I haven't shown any evidence of ongoing headaches. It's a warning sign that we're all keeping a close eye on through.
I have a regime of facial strengthening exercises my "face-ups" to do to even out the slight lag i had developed on the left hand side of my face and a set of rehab-therapy visits with the Speech Pathology and Occupational Therapy teams.to continually re-assess my recovery. All seems to be going pretty well.
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I had a steady stream of visitors throughout my stay. Friends, family, lovers, neighbors and old friends all came to see if I was OK, all-there and to cheer me up. It made a world of difference, especially with the question "will I pop a vessel and drop dead at any moment?" ringing loudly between my ears. Tactical Baby and Triceratops Girl were really pleased to see me, and not distressed, just concerned for me. I'm really grateful for all the visitors, and love I was shown, not to mention the mound of LEGO that kept hands and mind busy.
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The Occupational therapists also gave me their own kind of test too, and supervised me cooking meal in the in-ward kitchen.
I did some scrounging in true Apocalypse mode style and dug out a couple of cans of beans, ketchup some onions, spices and even a bag of bacon from the back of the freezer. The OT's weren't thrilled about me sharpening all the kitchen knives, but sharpen them I did. (A sharp knife is a safe knife). and I made a pretty passable chili.
More flavour than I'd managed to ingest in a while and I didn't set myself or the kitchen ablaze, or cut anything but onions and bacon!
Now being more or less fully mobile, I was off the daily injections, which was grand, but also meant that I was put on a more pill-based regime. So, now, daily, I take this collection of pills to: regulate my blood pressure (too high = popping), thin my blood (reducing clotting), reduce cholesterol buildup (clogs for clots to plug up on) and an acid-reflux-reducer to help me with the other pills.
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How does this all relate to being Apocalypse Equipped?? Well, what hit home for me was that if it could happen to ME, it could happen to ANYBODY and were it not for rapid and advanced medical treatment, I'd have died or been crippled. Here's some statistics... via WIKI
When I arrived at Hospital, I was in my pajamas, unconscious. all I had with me as far as GEAR goes were my necklaces.
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What I had with me was: Tritium marlin spike titanium WTF wrench-and-pry-tool and my SAR moon-glow / reflective disk. And top that off with my charms: a Mjölnir. My coyote and the brass arrowhead I wear for luck. the rings are purely sentimental but the brass Omega reminds me I'm owned and cherished. I did feel, in the late of the night, when nurses bumped into my bed and woke me, that I was ill prepared.
At an early point in my stay, I put in a request for my EDC, and I got a pocket dump from home, and added a few more useful items to keep handy. Included in this was some paracord, my SAR Dead Ringer comb (because personal grooming is important). One of my titanium Fishbone Piranhas and a RaidOps TM-Joe made up some heft for my pocket, and a Gerber multitool added some more utility. some dental floss for good measure.
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The recovery process has been slow, and I am still wracked with fatigue, and find myself able to exert myself for only a few hours a day, before I run out of steam and have to have a nap. This is normal, I've been told, but it's been a big adjustment for me to make.
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So, to finish up this long and fairly auto-biographical piece which I'm not used to writing ... here are some useful some early recognition tips:
Early recognition was was got me he rapid medical attention that saved my life:
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A mnemonic to remember the warning signs of stroke is FAST (facial droop, arm weakness, speech difficulty, and time to call emergency services)
And Lastly, here's some more facts and figures. Lots of people have strokes, apparently, I don't feel lonely, I feel LUCKY. I'm lucky I live in a country with excellent and affordable medical attention (my Government recommended Private Health Insurance) covered the entirety of my $4300 9-day private room, and all medical therapies, The Ambulance Membership covered my pick-up and transit costs.
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