In a previous post entitled “A Chock Full Day,” I wrote:
I have discovered on this trip newly returned capabilities, and some lessons in my stroke recovery–one thing being, I have decided to put it past me. At least superficially and publicly. I’ll still be coping and the issues may pop up, and I may air them, but for now, I’m going to push myself very very hard, privately, and see where that leads me.
Famous last words. I must have uttered them in a moment of extreme self consciousness about my recovery, hoping to retreat and hoping to not bother people with “this shit.”
But here I am again, sharing new stages (sorry, I hope you’re not sick of this, but it really does help me to air them here on the blog when I cannot air them so readily in person) of my path back.
Today I went to the speech therapist. This is my third visit to the speech therapist in about as many months (The first visit in January being an assessment with one therapist…then a second visit with someone who made me cry the entire time).
It’s a weird logistical chain of events that has led me to so few visits to speech therapy–I was supposed to have had 3 visits a week starting immediately after my stroke.
I had given up on the possibility that someone would help me–and that I was possibly beyond help, being too far along in my progress to merit help, yet not far enough to be back to my full capabilities. I was, I felt, in the ill-fated “in-between.” I had resigned myself to going about my recovery alone, climbing the mountain ahead of me in bitter silence.
But today I met a therapist who was awesome. We did a fiction writing exercise in which she broke down the writing process into little chunks–and she started me with note taking, and documenting my brainstorming process (“Do a characterization exercise–write down everything about a character.”)
She answered my prayers! (And she answered the request I made of the other awful speech therapist, of whom I asked, “Can you help me break it down? I can’t figure out how to break it down into steps.”) I loved her five minutes into our session, and I felt some part of me that I had locked away deep in my soul for the time being start jumping up and down in jubilation. (Yay! Yay! Yay!)
It was worth the wait.
I am a writer who previously brainstormed in her head, waited for everything to gestate, and then sat down to a cascade of words and story. Not so these days–my most recent attempt at fiction manifested in a halting set of unripe sentences. What had happened to the story in my head?
I resigned myself to more im/patient waiting. I believe my writing will be worth the wait, I believe that it will be changed for the better.
Today I feel like I am on the road back.
In other news–Susan awarded me a Thinking Blogger award! And I got my official rejection letter from the Stegner program (“Dear Writer,” the letter impersonally begins)–it was not unexpected (this handy website let me know in advance) and I finally feel closure on the matter.