My Social Network

My dad has worked in the computer industry my whole life, so, as I grew up, in the 80s and 90s, there were always these weird computer thingys in the house, my play house in the basement, which could fit two 10 year-olds in it comfortably was a wooden  box a hard drive had been delivered in.

In high school, my house was the cool place to be because we had that wacky new fangled invention: the internet! My friends and I would roam the chat rooms in total awe over the fact that we were "talking" to people half a country away.

Nowadays the novelty has worn off, there's a lot of complaining going around about how social networking and the internet isolates us from each other. I have something to say about that:

Word spread quickly after I suffered a stroke in childbirth, my friends and family members sent notes out on Facebook asking for prayers and positive vibes for me, as a result of this coming together of my digital community, I received countless numbers of cards and gifts that lifted my spirits and strengthened my resolve, I started this blog initially to keep my friends, family and numerous supporters apprised of my physical and mental state, but it has become an invaluable resource, allowing me to process all of the feelings I've had over the past three years in a healthy and positive way, my internet community are the people who read these posts.

Over the years I have received so much support via Facebook and through this blog, that without these tools, I truly believe I would have been lost. So, I do not believe the internet isolates us, that's up to the user, but it creates this amazing global community who can come together in minutes to support one of their own when they are in need, so, for those of you who've followed along via Facebook and this blog, thank you for the support, the pats on the back and the constant stream of positive energy.


Goddess bless Mark Zuckerberg.

Love and light.

Word play

If there is one thing I've learned over the last three years, it's this:

Language is of utmost importance, the words that come out of your mouth and the one's that live in your thoughts can impact your life in a big way.

My new year's resolution for 2014 was to eliminate the word "can't" from my vocabulary, because, it's a negative word and , really there isn't anything I can't do, unless I say I can't do it.

I recently read this article in Stroke Smart Magazine

reading it just reminded me hoe incredibly important words are, so, rather than use the word recovery, which implies that everything will be as it once was before the stroke (which is never going to happen, my body, mind and spirit has been too  irreversibly altered by this experience for everything to go back the way it was.

I have traded in the word recovery for renewal, this is a far more positive word, as it indicates, I am moving on with my life and accepting the circumstances of my life with open arms.

I have also made a concerted effort to not complain, outwardly or in my head, because, I have NOTHING to complain about, and it feels better not to, complaining changes nothing. You know what happened when I stopped complaining?

Things started looking extremely sunny, in-spite of the gloomy Michigan winter we've been through, once I realized nothing was worth complaining about and I put a cork in my mouth any time anything negative wanted to vomit out, life started looking pretty damn good, despite the challenges.


Try it, I dare you.

The Game Changer

There is a box in my house. It's a smallish, slightly beat up, square cardboard box, but what this box holds is truly amazing; This box holds hope, wisdom, inspiration and mostly this box holds love.

Let me start at the beginning.

Right after I found out I was pregnant in the spring of 2011, I started scouring the internet for mommy stuff. I stumbled upon a blog that I quickly became obsessed with the blogger's strength of message and the empowerment she found in motherhood captured my imagination, I had discovered The Feminist Breeder. I read her blog daily , looking for snippets of inspiration and information from an empowered mommy, just like I wanted to be.

Then, the unimaginable happened.
During an induced labor by brain sprung a large leak, causing a clot which forced my brain to one side of myskull, paralysing my left side and making this fast talker and thinker slowed down in both departments, luckily, that baby I had been learning to take care of through this blogger whom I admired so much came through the ordeal unscathed, but, I was left unable to breast feed as much as I wanted to (due to my many medications) and I was unable to care for this new life as fully as I had anticipated.

Knowing I was going to heartbroken by this unexpected turn of events, my good friend, and soul sister, Sheila, knowing how obsessed I was with TFB(The Feminist Breeder) got in touch with her, hoping she might contact me to give me some encouragement. Then my dream came true, GinaTFB contacted ME on Facebook, wanting to know how she could help, she and I came up with a plan, her idea, really; A greeting card campaign. She put up a post about ME asking her readers to send me words of encouragement, well, I didn't know what to expect out of this venture, but the cards, letters and even a CD or two came flooding in, I got over 90 pieces of mail from women all over the world, these women told me stories about relatives who had been touched by stroke, their own personal stories about difficult pregnancies, they told me how lucky Charlotte was to have me in her life, how important I was, regardless of how much I was able to do.

But, mostly these women sent messages of love.

All of those cards are in that magical box, which I busted open today. I was touched, at the time these cards came in, I felt hopeless and useless, they came at the darkest point of this journey, the point where I felt my entire life was falling away through my fingers, the point where if I had given up, that was when I was going to.

BUT
I got letters from The Netherlands, New Zelaand, England etc..from all over.

How could I give up when all of these people were rooting for me and believed that I was fully capable of doing this? I couldn't. So, I didn't. The contents of that box truly changed the game for me, words of kindness from complete strangers, reminding me that life is worth hanging on for.


I'm glad I listened

Outside In

Over the course of the last three years, I've had these random moments where I've stepped outside of myself to look at my life.

At the beginning of this journey I've been on when this would occur my reaction was something akin to,

"what has happened to my life? Everything was so great, now, look at me."

Tonight as Charlotte and I were washing dishes together ( I was washing, she was splashing in the soapy water) I took a moment, stepped outside of myself and took a good long look at what was going on.

"I just want to be a real mom." was my mantra as I was adjusting to my new life, but tonight as I took that moment I realized, Oh my goddess, wait. I'm a real mom now,  and I'm good at this, as Charlotte and were simply being in each others presence, I felt more satisfied with the state of my life than I ever have been, it was the simplest of moments,\; Water everywhere, Charlotte dumping cups of water into water, me hand washing dishes that wouldn't fit into the dishwasher, but, my gods, that was the most beautiful moment of myday, and in that moment, as I was looking at myself I said,

"What's happened to my life?! Everything seemed so dark and hopeless, now, look at me."

Never. Give. Up. Ever!

Love and light, my friends.

Bravery

Bravery: noun \ˈbrāv-rē, ˈbrā-və-\

: the quality that allows someone to do things that are dangerous or frightening : the quality or state of being brave.

I've had three years to think about this word and what it means, in general and to me; After the initial shock of the stroke wore off and I was in a more stable state of mind, I signed onto Facebook, what I found there was completely unexpected; So many messages of hope, support and motivation with lots of words in them like inspiring, brave and strong.

What?! Now, let me be clear, while I was in rehab, I still couldn't turn over in bed on my own, I had to call someone in to do that for me, I had to have someone help me get out of bed into my wheel chair, roll me into the bathroom and help me out of the chair onto the toilet and to top things off, I could't wipe myself when I was done in there. So, brave, strong and inspiring were not words that I would have used for myself, in fact, scared shitless, lost, confused, defeated and over-anxious would have been the perfect words for me at the time.

So what does brave mean? At the time, when I thought about it, brave was something people label someone as when they are facing something the general public wouldn't want to face.

I have waged many a battle with my bravery over the course of three years, the world can be a scary place when your body suddenly doesn't work the way it used to, staircases, curbs,and bathtubs were fearsome things for me for a long time, then I thought I had those fears beat...until about two weeks ago. Due to a couple of falls, one of which happened while I was holding Charlotte, my worst fear realized, the other due to me not paying attention where my stupid left foot was, my old anxieties crept up again, at least I think the falls are what sparked a relapse of Stair Fear, as I call it, suddenly, after a year of doing the stairs in my home confidently, dealing with them and knowing I was safe and knew what I was doing, this old, stupid terror crept back into my life, practically paralyzing me yet again.( not to mention pissing me off). I've been battling this fear for a good two weeks now, but I dug deep and found that bravery everyone kept saying I had and barreled through as best I could, now the stairs, whatever, they're not going to bite me. I know how my body works now and I can handle any weird obstacle that comes my way. It is only through this journey that I have discovered my bravery, and what being brave actually means.

Plan Change

Yes. This is another post about the Co-op, I would stop writing about it, but it continues to amaze me with it's awesomeness:


Like many expecting and working first time moms, I had a plan:

While I was incubating my precious cargo, I was working a 45 hour a week job that I loved, at The People's Food Co-op of Kalamazoo, for those not in the loop, I was the Front End Manager/HR Coordinator during the co-op's expansion into a new, shiny and bigger space, while busy with making a person, I was 100% consumed with ushering the Front End staff, new and old alike into the new space as smoothly as possible. Suddenly, I found my voice as a manager and I was hella good at it, I loved what I was doing, it was important, it mattered, what I was doing made a difference to people, more so than all of the jobs I had worked slinging over-priced coffee drinks at people who barely noticed I existed. So, my plan was this: I was going to take a paltry five weeks off after Charlotte's birth and then jump right back into my 45 hour work week and Matt was going to be a stay at home dad. Yeeeaaaahhh......the Universe slapped that plan right out of my hands, big time. I loved my job so much, I was begging to be let out of the ICU for an All-Staff Meeting.So, when I learned I was FINALLY going to be released from rehab, I immediately began planning my triumphant return to work . Until my OT, Erica sat down and gave me the reality check I needed; No. I couldn't do that job anymore, absolutely not.

Well, in my muddled brain, nothing had changed, there was no reason I couldn't jump back in (I believe this was my denial stage of grieving), until Matt came through with his usual dose of much needed tough love:
"Liz, you can't even go to the bathroom by yourself, how are you supposed to do that job?" Shit.

Three years later, I can safely say there is NO. Way I could have done that job at that point but,  I was devastated. Later that day, my boss came to the hospital and I stepped down from my position, hoping that some day I'd return to the co-op, somehow. So Chris, my GM and I made a point of getting together a few months after my release to discuss a possible return, he essentially made up a new job for me, that wouldn't be too taxing on my feeble stamina and limited physical ability; I was essentially a greeter, I answered phones and rang up customers when needed. Going back to work was hard, it was physically taxing, exhausting and, at times, overwhelming. I had to relearn EVERYTHING from scratch and the hardest part of that was hat I was being retrained by people I had hired and trained, this rubbed my pride the wrong way, I was often embarrassed as the current Front End Manager,Simon,  helped me fix any mistakes I had made as I was relearning to count drawers, but, even though I was embarrassed, he NEVER treated me like I was stupid for having to learn all of this again and I was treated as a new trainee and a respected member of the Front End team. Once I finally came to terms with the fact that I had to learn how to be a cashier from the beginning, I began to get over myself, started seeing Simon as my boss, not that kid I hired all that time ago, my pride stopped being an issue and everything suddenly began falling into place

Currently, I cashier at least twice a week and as we approach the holiday season, I'm hoping I can work more.

I may not be a manager anymore, but I am grateful work at a place that embraces me for who I am now ,that did not toss me out with the trash when I wasn't able to perform at the same level as I had before stroke touched my life. And working as a cashier gives time to spend with my daughter who delights and amazes me everyday, plus cashiering fun! It is, I promise.

Working has not only increased my physical stamina and ability, but I believe working a register has improved my cognition greatly, every shift I work challenges my focus, improves my confidence and makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, because as I work, I am amazed at the strides I have made since that life shattering discussion with Erica.

Thank you Universe.

Mind Your Meds

Note: the opinions expressed in this post are based on my experiences as a stroke survivor, I am NOT a medical professional, any and all decisions about medication should be made with you physician.

Due to the traumatic nature of stroke, it's survivors are often put on a battery of drugs after the event, in the last three years, since my stroke, I have been on powerful opiates, blood thinners, anti-seizure medication, blood pressure pills and threatened with anti-depressants, which I flat out refused to take.

Many of these medications cause drowsiness, exacerbating a post-stroke state of being I refer to The Fog; Now. imagine, you are in a large field, surrounded by a fog so thick you can't see two feet in front of you, you lose you bearings, can't focus on anything and fall over easily, this is what The Fog feels like, it is a state of being I lived with for a year after the stroke, I believe  contributing factor to that were some of the medications I was on at the time. As I recovered, my doctors and I began to slowly take me off of my medications, my blood pressure improved greatly, so the blood pressure meds were the first to go, then the DVT that had developed in my leg resolved itself, so we then threw the blood thinners in the trash,then my physiatrist put my on muscle relaxers, to try to inhibit the muscle spasicity that was affecting my ability to move easily.

Whoa. those muscle relaxers helped a bit, only thickened the fog; I was tired all of the time already, but that medication made it next to impossible for me to stay awake or attentive for any stretch of time. After two post-stroke seizures, which Matt and I believe wer caused by my muscle relaxers: Baclofen, Matt and started to talk about the possibility of my getting off of the dreadful Baclofen, not an easy task, as going off of a medication like baclofen cold turkey can cause seizures and other nasty side effects, but I talked to my physiatrist about it anyway and we ddevised a plan to slowly ween me off of the baclofen, as I gradually came off of it, I gradually began to wake up, The Fog began to clear, I could focus on people, things and lines of thought, I began to feel human again. Once I had been off of it for about a year, it's been close to twoyears now, I found I was able to retain more information that I had been able to since the stroke, nowadays, my mind is working quickly again, and I feel my cognitive abilities have improved a thousandfold, now I am down to only one medication, the anti-seizures, more for my peace of mind than anything. 

Being almost medication free is a good feeling, but, please do not start or stop a medication without first talking wand working with adictor you trust and do your best to understand what you are taking and why.