The Final Stroke

“Lock me away, where the silly boys go;
I’m on top of my nerve, don’t you know?
Take me apart ‘cause I’m out of control
Send me a letter on a midnight scroll…
I got a lot on my head,
Most of it’s you
Got a lot on my head,
Can’t forget about you.”

--Ric Ocasek and Ben Orr, “I Got A Lot On My Head,” as performed by The Cars, from the album Candy-O, 1979.

The “you” above refers to the stroke. Pun intended on the lot on my head line.

Home now for six weeks, bored, depression has crept in and out and the basic lack of carbs have all contributed to the dreaded “C” word. Not that one, but rather change.

Warren G. Harding wanted a return to normalcy. I do as well, and perhaps that is what is needed. Someone stop me, now. I am quoting bad Republican Presidents for goodness sakes.

Some changes cannot be reversed. Less carbs, no beer, and more healthy eating is essential for the survival. That I understand. Surprisingly, I do not miss the beer. I miss potato chips now and again, but not beer. That kind of takes me aback to a degree. Thus a change.

Less stress is needed in my life. That is also a change, especially for a type A Personality like me. I really wish folks would do me a favor, and not push my buttons on stressful stuff. I do not want to get involved with the daily stressors that I normally fend off for others. As an example, I went to school Friday, and was hit up for a union issue, as an immature teacher felt there was a reason to bother our membership leaders and me for a petty question/concern that had nothing to do with the union. I am resigned to thinking that if you live a venomous life like this annoying faculty member, you will have poison running through your relationships with others.

One thing I did not expect was how depressing this damnable thing has been. I think that is only enhanced by boredom. My doctors agree. So I am back to see my counselor who helped me during the “pity me; I have had heart surgery” years. He's helped calm me down. The church Jen and I attend and are joining has been a spiritual revival for me as well.

One thing is that if I go out and return to my “social tendencies,” although some would call it a cross of my ego and my ability to be a ham or show off or something similar. It was very therapeutic for me to go back to the graduation. I saw some of my seniors off, some I missed, and I mingled. I also went back to work Friday to say hello to faculty members missed and goodbye to some of those leaving. I was living to make a difference, blessed to be a blessing to others.

People ask questions and they are concerned, but I have a tendency to give too much information, and then I have a tendency to bore the snot out of them. Suffice to say, this is the last “stroke” blog for a whole. I will get back to the usual stuff soon. People do not want to hear my procedural stuff, the fact that I really think I was blessed, and the like. I now just say, “The doctors are pleased, so I am pleased.”

One thing, folks reading this who know me and random readers who happened to hit this site, I must say:

Here is my last stroke Blog/Advice Commentary:

Eric Sweetwood's “If-you-know-someone-who-suffered-a-stroke-or-something-similar-how-to-act-and-how-not-to-react” Primer.

Most stroke patients go though the surprise of the whole thing, the fear it will happen again, and the shock of it all. Please, for their sake, do NOT add to their stress: be extra kind and extra gentle and upon occasion, just be quiet.

Further, comparative comments like “when my aunt had that she had rehab for six weeks—you are lucky,” or comments like “well, it could have been cancer, you are lucky.” No one with a stroke feels lucky. If they have recovered well and they know (like in my case) they will realize their good fortune, luck, blessing, the divine intervention or whatever you wish to call it, soon enough. Pacing is the key.

Lastly, please follow this last bit of advice for dealing with the stroke victim: do not play doctor and demand answers or offer commentary as to the cause of the stroke—as an example, someone said to me, “well, if you did not drink so much beer..” blah blah blah or another asked “well why don’t they know what caused it? You need to know, bah blah blah” and comments like that.

The best thing I can suggest for anyone going through this is as Warren G. Harding suggests is a return to Normalcy. My God, I am still quoting bad republican Presidents—maybe my brain is not as clear as I thought. Anyway, normal activities are good. It felt good to be at the awards evening, or the graduation, or talking to friends.

Yes, I dwell on this stroke because it confuses me as to why it happened, but I am getting over the “pity me” part of this thing, but talking (or even writing about it) is a reminder.

I am glad to be alive, I am thankful for the love of my family (thanks Dan, Karen, Angela, Mark, and Mary—you all now why) and friends, I am thankful Jen and her uncompromising love and the fact that she took care of me for two weeks (see picture above--she is so cute and has a beautiful heart), thanks for all of the good folks who visited me or sent cards or emails of well-wishes and the like, I am glad I was treated so quickly, the Doctors knew what they were/are doing, and I feel honestly as if I was blessed by God..

As one doctor told me, “live everyday like it is your last and have fun, or live everyday like you will talk about it in twenty-five years—you will find that both are the same. If you live your life looking over your shoulder waiting for the next stroke, fear wins, and that is not a good way to live your life.”

I refuse to give in to fear and let it pervade in my life. It is time to go back to normal. I promise something about the Bears, Batman, social comments, my damn ego, or the like next time.