i feel better everyday. i guess that’s the benefit of youth when it comes to stroke. i still cannot write creatively, and cannot
write read more than a couple pages of creative work before i bonk out, but i’m still getting better everyday. of course, it’s not as fast as i’d like. i’m trying to spend my days somehow NOT staring at the wall, and NOT being “bored.” you know, thats hard to do when your days before a stroke were spent: reading, writing, doing cerebral activities, or doing heavy physical activity. now? i can barely read, write, and can’t do extreme physical activity.
now i’m redefining myself. will i be a different person once this thing passes? (for it will pass, i know). my brain is healing and making new paths around the dead parts of my brain (it’s really hard to imagine and accept that a part of my brain is DEAD, oxygen-starved and all). what kind of person will i be? i don’t feel all that different. but then when i go to do certain things, i’m hit with the reality that i *am* different.
i try to go out, but i can’t go outside with anyone other than my husband and have yet to venture out of my house without him. it’s bizarre. i’m going to try to hang out with friends, but i know that will be a strenuous first step.
many of you friends have sent me emails of encouragement–and i read all of them, some of them several times. one of my friends has advised me to think of something standard to say for those times i don’t feel like sharing, but still need to reply. “a tagline to recite,” she says, for those times when i just don’t feel like talking. that’s a big tool.
so now i’m trying to think of what to say as a standard line. “i had a stroke, they’ve figured out a potential cause. my musculature and speech are fine, my short term memory is heavily screwed–thanks for asking and bearing with me…” hrm.
survival skills. picking up some more of those these days.