Fast Forward

I guess you can tell by my absence from this blog site, I still have issues with meaning to do something (blog), and actually doing something:) But I'm giving myself some slack.  I'm still in recovery, still going to doctors' appointments on a more-frequent-than-I-would-like basis, and I'm also trying to sneak in as many naps as possible when my son is at daycare.
But I do want to fill you in on where I presently am in my "ordeal", because truth be told, I'm so happy about the progress report I am able to give!

I FEEL GREAT and I AM VERY BLESSED.  That is the short story.

The longer story is this...

After completing outpatient rehab, I spent a couple of months at home trying to get some much MEDICALLY required rest, as well as trying to challenge myself with my reading, writing, and overall communication skills, as it was poor communication that was probably my largest deficit after the stroke. (see Aphasia).  The road was tough and the road was long, but I truly think that I am close to 99% recovered as far the language difficulties I experienced post-stroke. (My ability to do math is a whole different story - but I can live with that as I have calculators and Excel, and luckily I don't have to take the SATs anytime soon:))

When I thought I was strong enough to return to work, I worked with my Occupational Health physician and my manager to facilitate a reasonable transition, which was three 8-hour days each week, with two days off for rest.  I am embarrassed to say now that I actually fought the doctor, swearing that I was ready to return full-time. But thankfully, she has seen plenty of patients and she knew what would be manageable for me in the beginning. (Have I mentioned that I am extremely hard-headed and determined, which is not always a good thing - ha!).  My manager concurred with the doctor, so back to work I went three days per week.  Let me tell you this - it wasn't as easy as I thought it was going to be.  I was given a private office, which was very beneficial because it allowed me space to concentrate and also the ability to close the door if I needed a couple of minutes to rest or collect my thoughts.  But even with a little privacy, I still had issues with the constant interruptions (glad for them but still challenged by them) from my co-workers and my own lack of confidence in my ability to perform at my previous level (which, by the way, is a completely unreasonable expectation that I set on myself - my management and co-workers were completely willing to work with me at my "new" pace - but as I mentioned before - hard-headed).

So it wasn't without frustration and sadness (for lack of a better word) that I got through the three days each week.  Besides the fact that I was returning from a 6-month hiatus, during which I had a baby and suffered a major stroke, I was also dealing with the task of having to learn a lot of new processes that normal business practices called for. I was literally SPENT when I got home each day, but I needed to get into Mommy-Mode and care for my son and also make time for my husband. I felt like I wasn't able to do any one thing well, which was something that I wasn't used to pre-stroke.  I found myself becoming extremely frustrated with simple tasks, and getting angry or sad for reasons that would not have affected me so much before the stroke (see Emotional Liability). In simplest terms, I was a hot mess, but I pressed on and tried my hardest to appear like the "old Kim".

I could only fake the funk for a short period of time.  I began avoiding meetings so that I wouldn't risk crying at inappropriate times (is there ever an appropriate time to cry at work - um, no).  I found myself making excuses to skip lunch with my co-workers so that I could go out alone to try and regroup for an hour.  I would sit in a parking lot and call my sister who (God bless her) would listen to me babble about something or someone who was pissing me off on that particular day (usually in my head). I can give plenty more examples of what an emotional wreck I became, but hopefully you get the point.  It got to the point that I could no longer continue working this way, and I felt like it was only right that I let my manager know that I was struggling.  We had that discussion, with HR and the Occupational Health doctor present, and we came to an agreement that I would do reasonable and achievable tasks on the days that I was in the office.  The idea was for me to build up my endurance and perform at a pace that was agreeable to us all. Once that meeting happened, and I stuck to my new responsibilities, things became much more manageable.  I found myself not being so unnecessarily stressed out about the "small stuff".  Things were good, and then, the unexpected happened...

Skip to June, when I had a follow-up MRI of the brain.  My doctor and I were both hoping it be a normal follow-up test.  That ended up being far from the case.  When my medical team examined the films and read the radiology report, it showed that I had a cavernoma in my brain.  My doctor, in his expertise, felt that the cavernoma was most likely a condition that I had since birth. A lot of the time, patients don't even know the cavernomas exist until they have an MRI done for a different reason.  However, since I suffered a stroke, MRIs were being performed and what they expected would be an area of my brain that was "blackened" out from stroke was still glowing under contrast, giving my doc the idea that something more was happening.  Once my doctor had more time to review the study, he advised me that it might be best to remove the cavernoma, which is completely curative when the removal (resection) is successful. He did tell me that we could take a "wait and watch" approach and get another MRI in a couple of months, but since I already had a stroke, I stood the chance of suffering another, more catastrophic bleed in the time that we were waiting and watching.  That was some pretty hard info to swallow, but I knew that in order to give myself, my husband, and my son the chance of living a life without this worry hanging over my head, it would be best to go ahead with the resection. So, I decided to go forward with the procedure.

Shocked? I was! I thought I was heading towards my "new normal", but instead I was about to schedule the resection a.k.a. BRAIN SURGERY.

Things moved pretty quickly after that, and after seeking a couple of other opinions from docs at other institutions, I was ready to have the surgery performed at Thomas Jefferson University Hospital.  One and  a half months after getting my diagnosis, I was in the hospital ready for surgery.  Two days before the surgery I had an fMRI, which is kind of like a GPS-guided study that gave my surgeon a pretty accurate idea of the precise area of the brain that needed to be resected. This was vital since the area of my brain that was affected by the cavernoma was my speech center. (An "oops" there could mean major rehab and complications to my already eventful life - or even death.)  The day after the fMRI, a cerebral angiogram was performed to pretty much exclude the likelihood of another condition such as an aneurysm or arterial venous malformation (AVM), both which are absolutely life-threatening in  most cases.  The angiogram came out fine, and the fMRI gave my surgeon great pictures so he could pinpoint with a huge degree of accuracy what was being resected.

D-Day (or, for the less dramatic among you, Thursday) was two days after the fMRI.  I will spare you the details of the surgery prep and what was going through my mind right before I was wheeled down to the waiting area to say goodbye to my husband.  I'll skip ahead to waking up in the recovery area (which was me and several other patients all in beds with bandages and all kinds of beeping and talking and cognitive testing), where my first thought was to ask one of the nurses who was there if this was really happening or was I experiencing one of those made-for-TV outer body events. "Hello! Can you hear me?" and "Am I making sense" were the first words out of my mouth.  The sweet nurse who had to deal with me just chuckled and told me that I was LOUD and coherent.  After I had that established, I asked for my husband to come see me, and man, was he a sight for sore (no pun intended) eyes.  After that, my parents and my aunt came, and all was right with the world.  I was shortly moved up to the Neuro ICU, and somehow (and I'll go ahead and say miraculously), I was released to go home the very next day. Seriously, I've had more uncomfortable oral surgery than that. 

I was so happy to get home, where I was able to start a speedy and solid recovery.  I had some days of very strict rest, and then I started slowly and steadily getting get back to my life.

VERY IMPORTANT TO KNOW - I take no credit at all for the excellent outcome of my surgery.  I had a brilliant surgeon, an unbelievable staff of doctors, nurses, nurses aides, and overall good people on Team Kim that week. 

So now... just a little more than one month later, I am hoping to return to work in just a few weeks.  I am so much more physically, emotionally, and cognitively stronger than I was even 5 weeks ago, and I'm forward to staring my even "newer normal."

I am lucky.  I am loved. I am blessed. Can't say it any differently.

Starting Here...

It has taken me a long time to get to this point, but I am finally ready to start chronicling the journey that has gotten me to this point.  Ten months ago, I suffered a hemorrhagic stroke, which is basically a bleed in my brain.  The stroke happened 10 days after I had my first child.  Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your point of view), I don't remember anything about the day of my stroke.  All I know is that I was life-flighted from my local hospital to a major hospital in Philadelphia, where I remained for the next five days (a few of those days in a coma).

When I was discharged from the hospital, I was transferred to a rehab hospital where I stayed for 12 days, learning how to walk, talk, and perform what is known in the rehab world as "ADL", or Activities of Daily Living.  I received Speech Communication, Physical, and Occupational therapies, which were all challenging but literally life saving as they allowed me to recover a lot of what I lost when I suffered the stroke. 

I left inpatient rehab, and spent the next 3 months attending outpatient rehab three days a week.  I never knew I could ever work so hard while experiencing something so sad and frustrating.  I can honestly say that I am a better person because of the experience, but I would not wish it on anyone.

I want to blog about this experience for a couple of reasons:
First of all, my blogging and reliving the past several months is great therapy for me.  It will allow me to face things that I had to put on the back burner while I was trying to get better, and at the same time, it will help me try to remember certain events that were (and sadly still remain) blurry.

Secondly, I hope that blogging about this will serve as a testament to at least one woman who has experienced a stroke or something as equally life-changing that things can and will get better. It just takes a lot of time and most importantly a lot of patience with yourself.  You are going to face struggles, frustrations, and probably a lot of tears, but that's all a part of the process and you must give yourself the permission to go through it all - good and bad.

Finally, I want to use this blog as a way to share my story with my family and friends, who stood by me through it all, even when I did not thank them - because I wasn't physically able to or I just didn't remember to.

I will try to stay true to the story, and when I don't remember things as they happened, I'll just be honest and let you know.