Can't

can't

/kant/

contraction

1. cannot.

Can't is an interesting word, over the last 8 years, I've developed an interesting relationship with this word.

Immediately following the stroke my whole world was about can't. I can't hold my baby, I can't walk or move my left arm, I can't go back to work, can't do this, can't do that.

In fact, I was convinced everything was a can't.

Then acceptance set in. After much thought and slowly working myself back into my job and slowly gaining confidence in my new abilities, I realized that word wasn't helping at all, that words are really powerful and I should be careful which ones I use. So I made a resolution to not use the above word anymore.

After that something magical happened, anytime I was faced with something I was unsure about, I took a deep breath, thought about it and dove right in and you know what? I was able to do the things I thought were a can't.

Now if I think something is a can't I look at it as something I have to try.

Give it a go, I dare you.

A Real Mom

"I just want to be a real mom."

If you were one of the people who visited me in neuro rehab around this time eight years ago, you would have heard that plaintive phrase fall out of my mouth. Most people responded responded with a sympathetic grin and the words, "But you are a real mom."

My response to this attempt at comfort was probably an eye roll followed with me thinking, what the fuck do you know about it.

First let me give some perspective here, by this point eight years ago, I'd been in rehab for about a week, I think(the timeline of everything is not clear to me as my brain wasn't functioning correctly) by this time in rehab, it was starting to dawn on me how severe the effects of the stroke was, I had a hard time talking, moving my half-paralyzed mouth and tongue around words was a struggle, I could barely hold a thought in my head for longer than a minute, I couldn't focus long enough to eat a meal and following the narrative on the simple shows Matt and I watched together before the stroke, like American Dad and Robot Chicken was impossible. I couldn't walk, go to the bathroom without assistance and worst of all, couldn't take care of my new baby. I had to watch other people do that.

My daydreams of softly singing to my baby girl while breastfeeding her had been crushed and I was fucking pissed.

At that point I really thought I was going to be confined to a wheelchair anytime I wanted to go anywhere, I imagined being wheeled into school programs and Charlotte getting made fun of because her mom was weird. I imagined Charlotte being confused about who her mom was because so many other people were caring for her, I even thought she'd hate me because I couldn't run around and play with her.

Well.

Let's fast forward to now. Suddenly, without me realizing it, that new normal everyone kept promising me I'd find showed up. It's eight years later and every weekday I get up at 6:20 am, get myself dressed( a HUGE accomplishment, when I began doing it myself), attempt to wake Charlotte up and drag what she wants for breakfast out of her, then I let the dog out, feed him and proceed to throw together breakfast for both Charlotte and I, once we're done eating the task of getting Charlotte ready for school commences, a difficult task, 'cuz staying home is way more interesting. Some days, hopefully, I've convinced Charlotte that she does have to go to school and I manage to get her on the bus on time. I have no idea how this happens some days.

Then I go about my day, cleaning the kitchen, folding laundry, making dinner and generally enjoying being alive and in between all of those days I sometimes stop and think to myself.

Wow. I AM a real Mom.

What a difference a Year Makes!

One year ago, at this time: 2am, I would have been drifting off (crashing into) sleep while Matt watched Adult swim on our TV in our room at rehab. My nurse for the night, Rory or Angela, or , if I was lucky, Joni, would have just popped their head in to check my blood pressure and to see if I had to pee, which I probably did, or if I needed water. I would have undergine the ful battery of therapies furing the day: speech, Recreational, Occupational, and Physical and I would have struggled to stay awake for all of them, just waiting til I had a few spare minutes to fit in a power nap, which is all I ever had time for during my busy days in rehab I probably would have cried at some point in the day, asked Matt, "Why did this happen?"I would have struggled to walk 90 feet in PT. I probably would have only held Charlotte once during the day.

Today, Ispent the whole day hanging out with Charlotte, weplayed with some of her new toys, read a book, and walked around the living room together, a task that was not as difficult as it was a year ago, in fact, a year ago, I had no idea whether I'd ever walk without a cane again. I did not cry today or bemoan my situation, in fact, I've been spending most of my days fighting through the constant haze tof exhaustion that is my permanent companion, so as to fully participate in my life. A year ago, I would describe myself as brain dead. I was soooo tiredand so unables to process any information that I could barely carry on a simple conversation, let alone try to be prsent in my life.

Today I did grab a power nap. I also held Charlotte a lot and changed her diaper and got her food, things I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to do  year ago, so, today, I spent most of the day amazed at how far I've come in a year after such a devastating event, so please, trust and know that things can and will always get better. No matter how dark anf hopeless it seems.

Mood Swings Much?

Something magical must have happened to me last night; I went to bed after a pretty upsetting conversation with Matt, we were discussing the possibility that I'm as good as I can get and things may just be the way they are till  I die, so I was feeling pretty down in the dumps when I hit the sack. The alarm buzzed me awake this morning and I popped out of bed, like I used to, easy, excited to see what my therapists had in store. I was focused, attentive and efficient this morning while getting my breakfast together, a task that sometimes dissolves into a huge mess due to me not paying attention to what I'm doing. The morning glories Matt planted this year were blooming outside our kitchen window and they were beautiful, at one point I thought to myself, I'm so happy I woke up this morning! I took the puppy out for his morning pee, woke my impossible to wake husband with just enough time left befor we had to leave and showed up at therapy in a pretty damn good mood. I had OT first and I immediately launched into a monologue of immense proportions, regaling my OT, Sue and her intern, Emily, with all of my wisdom I have gained through this experience, then I said something that they loved: :I'm not gonna miss the rest of my life because of this shit."My quote ended up on the white board in the therapy room for motivation! So that just launched me into further, bigger, broader observations and many bad jokes, as an actor, when I have a captive audience, I take advantage of it asnd I was on fire! I had a HUGE dump of adrenaline while this was happening and for a few minutes, I felt restored to my original condition. It felt good! Today I felt great! I am happy to be here with Charlotte and Matt. Then things just got better, while Charlotte and I wer playing on the floor she decided to take one very wobbly step, just for me to see, directly following the step she crumpled to the floor and I dissolved into tears of gratitude, that I got to be here, so even if this is the form I will hold for the rest of my life, I can stil have great days when I feel fabulous and divnely happy, her's to many more days like today!

Love Story

About thirteen years ago I went on a job interview that would eventually change my life; I was finishing up my second year in college and I was staying in town for the summer to take a couple of summer classes, so I was looking for a part-time job so I'd have money for food, booze and cigarettes, essentials for a summer in your college town. The summer before I had my first in a long line of coffee shop jobs, at Starbucks, and I loved the work, so I was on the lookout for a barista gig, or a job as a coffee whore, as I called myself back then, equivalent to a beer wench, that was my reasoning. I found an ad in the paper for a local shop looking for help. At the time the woman, Carol, who owned the business owned a shop in Bronson Hospital, so I went to the hospital that would eventually save my life to interview for a job where I would eventually meet my husband. We sat down and chatted for a few minutes, and Carol offered me a job at the end of the interview, she was opening up a new location and wanted me to help with that starting the following week. We were open for a month or two before we started needing more help, once we realized we needed more help, Carol started interviewing. And one day this young boy of 16 came  in with shoulder-length hair that covered his face, Carol interviewed him and hired him. A few days after he had been hired that boy came in with a friend and his sister to buy some drinks, he had cut  his hair and this time I could see his face, and this time it was like a choir of angels sang, he was sooooo cute! We started working together all of the time, and we flirted ruthlessly. I really liked this guy, but I was torn...He was 17, I was almost 21. Was the age difference going to be too large to scale?What would my friends think? Then school started again and my schedule changed, so Matt and Icould noy work together anymore. I missed him and his goofy antic. We started leaving goofy notes for each other on the shop's bullentin board. And one day I had a little surprise in my school email, he had figured out my email adress and sent me a cute little note! After that Resiatance was futile. We made a plan to go out one night, but we missed each other, I was supposed to pick him up at work and I was running late, he had gone outside to wait for me and went behind the building to smoke, so when I pulled up I didn't see him and left. oops! A few months later, Sept. 5th, 1999, we had our first date, we saw The Blair Witch Project, tooled around town and just hung out. He neglected to tell me he had a curfew, so his mother called my house at about 4am fuming mad. A couple months after we got together, due to my own idiocy, we broke up for a couple weeks, we got back together and we were together when I graduated from college. After college was done, I stuck around Kalamazoo for a year. I mainly stayed because I had nowhere to go and because I wasn't ready to leave Matt and for another reason that didn't pan out so well for me. Then my friend Dexter offered me a role in a play he was writing to tour around schools in Connecticut. So, I was off to Ne w Haven, CT!

Mat and I lost touch while I was in CT, I dated another man that I almost married and as that relationship was on it's last legs, Matt rematerialized in my life. I took one email and one phone call for us to reconnect again.I then moved to NYC and Matt and I decided we were going to get married, so he moved to NY to be with me and ten years after our first date we got married! And thank goodness for that. I truly believe fate brought us back together, because without his love and motivation, I couldn't have made it as far as I have

So ther's my longdrawn out love story!

Grow A Pair

You've got to have a big set of balls to recover from a stroke, think about it, your ability to balance is severelry compromised and half of your body does not work. You are also unable to interact with the world in the way you are accustomed. Tasks that used to be easy like Sunday morning are now as challenging, dangerous and scary as climbing Mount Everest

The other day in therapy one of the PTs was working with another patient, I'm not sure if she was stroke patient, but most of the other paitients that are in the gym with me usually are, or they have suffered from a closed head injury. The woman was working on learning how to roll over in bed or practicing getting in and out of bed independently. Sounds pretty simple, right? Nope. She was having a really hard time and was very scared of falling off of the mat table she was working on. I wanted to go over to her and commiserate with her, because I remember how hard it was to roll over in bed and get up out of bed. I wanted to reassure her that her PT would not let her fall, that the more she practiced it would become easier and having trouble with those tasks would be a distant memory.

I have battled my own fears throughout this process, staircases, oddly angled parking lots and other unfamiliar terrain. But I refuse to walk around being scared for the rest of my life and I find facing my fear in those situations is easier than being afraid of whatever I'm worrying about

Checked Out

After being compared to a zombie this morning I was indignant, overdramatically I stomped into the bathroom and got everything arranged for my shower. As I let the warm eater flow over me, I thought it over a bit and realized that, as usual, Matt was right. It is infuriating to have someone around who knows you well enough to call you out on your bullshit, and to realize that they are right and that was exactly what you needed to hear.So am I zombie-like now? Not all of the time. I do tend to check out and stare into space more than I used to.It is still a large task to pay attention to some one talking to me, it is wxhausting to be a good listener these days. As a protective measure, I have a tendency to go into a power save mode, my eyes glaze over and I'm only half-listening to who ever is addressing me. As I was coming to this realization in the shower, I realized my cognition will never return to it's originalhigh speed mode if I keep that up. So today I resolved to stay present in every moment, no matter how tired I am

Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays

I recently started reading a new book, that's gotten me thinking a lot about my experiences in rehab, so the next few posts are going to be retrospectives. Since I was completely incapable of blogging at the time, I tried once, but it was far too exhausting.

As we all know, hospital food leaves much to be desired, tastewise and health-wise. In an effort to bring me some much needed joy my co-workers devised a weekly lunch schedule, every Monday Wednesday and Friday, my co-workers would bring me some lunch for the co-op. These days quickly became my favorite days of the week, I was so excited to see who was going to visit me, they had a rotating schedule, so a different co-worker would come everytime and I was always pumped to see what kind of tastefull and healthy tidbit they would bring. One day that I was expecting my co-op lunch stands out to me in particular, I was having a terrible day, my mood was probably the lowest it had been since the stroke and I was very busy that day playing the Why Me? game. that day they brought me a Reed's Extra Ginger Ginger Beer, my favorite beverage we offer, I drank a large quantity of these during my pregnancy to ward off the inevitable sick tummy. The first sip I took, brought tears to my eyes. I was suddenly overtaken by  an intesnse nostalgia, that taste was a taste from a different time, a better time, a taste from home and every taste from the c-op was a comforting reminder that there were people who were thinking of me and pulling for me and every bite solidified my resolve to get bwtter so I could return. Luckily, my fellow manager, Randall, made a cookie got tossed into my bag, cookies are an obsession of mine, the food I assumed in vast quantities as I was incubating my baby girl.
So, thanks, co-op peeps! You have no idea how much your visits helped me!

Out and About

I am a very social person, so when I'm presented with an opportunity to leave the house, I usually take it. Due to my very pronounced limp and slow gate and the fact that Larry sits in an arm sling, wearing a wrist brace, I'm sure I look like I've been in some kind of horrific accident, so it's not uncommon that people ask me what happened. When this occurs the first thought that shoots through my head is, "Wow, you've got some balls asking a complete stranger a question like that and I also wish I had some wicked cool story to tell them like, I was base jumping in New Zealand and my chute didn't open, because the truth isn't nearly as cool as that. I always tell them the truth, because I have nothing to be ashamed of and I think being out and about as a stroke survivor is important, hopefully when people see me navigating the world as a stroke survivor, it can help to dispell any preconceptions they may haveof stroke survivors. I think it is very important for me to be open and honest about what has happened, because it isn't something that should be hidden, it is something that should be talked about. I knew nothing about stroke and it's effects, up til recently and if I can help raise awareness about it and how to spot it by talking about it, then my job is done!

inspirational?

It's a very humbling experience when a close friend sits down, looks you in the eyes and in all seriousness tells you that you are inspiring.

Of all of the tings I've daydreamed of being, rock star, broadway actress, movie star, inspiring was never something I anticipated becoming. I've been called inspiring since the stroke hit, but this was the first time I was told why. My friend told me that when she's having a bad day she thinks about me and how hard everything must be for me and she tells herself, "If Liz can do it, so can I." Hearing that sent my heart soaring, if I can help someone get through a hard day or help someone have gratitude for what they have, that is great! Because, even though things are a tad harder for me now, as far as I see it, I don't have a choice of what to do because the choice is life or giving up. I would love it if I could inspire someone to keep trying, to never give up, being inspiring is wonderful, but I crave to take this experience and use it to help people., giving up was never an option, nor should it ever be! So who ever you are, wherever you may be, I'm telling you now that you can do it! Never give up!I believe in you!

The Walk.

There are moments in my life when I am breifly struck by how far I've come on my journey. Like the other day, getting into our car to go to therapy, I stopped and reflcted on how diffucult it was to bend my knee enough to swing it into the car when I first got home. And how hard and scary it seemed when my PT, Carrie on three West had me practice in the car they had set up for that purpose, now I get in and out of cars, even giant pick-up trucks, no problem.

And yesterday as I was walking around the backyard, I am now doing three laps, I was thinking about how hard, tiring and scary the walk was. I started by walking across the yard and around the circumference, it was sorter and more level ground. I had a hard time walking around the edge on my way bck to the door without holding onto the fence. Then I started challenging my self by trying a hill or two, or taking a longer route or not touching the fence for support.And now I am doing three laps in thirty minutes! And I'm walking in and out of places in the real world without my cane. I realized yesterday that I've been so focused on getting to a certain point in my recovery that I've become blind to how far I've come, so now I am working on enjoying the journey of recovery rather than only looking at the destinsination.

The Yogurt Incident

I had a little incident this morning that I think provides a good example of hoe my brain is operating these days and the kind of things I deal with on a daily basis,l so I thought I'd share:

I like to have yogurt with granola and a little honey for breakfast, so this morning I went to the fridge and got the tub of yogurt out but it was almost empty. Now I remembered opening a new tub yesterday so I thought to myself, "this can't possibly be the tub I opened yesterday, it must be in the fridge still." So I opened the frisge and looked for the other tub, but did not see it right away so I shrugged my shoulders and thought something must have happed to that other tub and I decided to go ahead and scrape what was left in the one I had started with even though I knew that tub I opened yesterday must still be somewhere. Then Matt pointed out that I should probably have looked a little harder for the new tub and sure enough there it was, in the door of the fridge, on my left side. I sighed, frustrated with myself, I should know by now that if I can't find something that I should check what is to my left. So i wound up feeling a little dumb and realizing  needed to slow down and think things through a little more so things like that wouldn't happen as often

Dead Ringer

Yesterday I took the next step in my quest to return to work as fully as possible, I was retrained on the cash registers. This was an odd occurance since I was usually the one doing the training, but I certainly needed the refresher and the oversight of the Front End Manger(FEM to help me see the things I might potentially have missed. The thing I realized yesterday is how much a cashier has to think about, rigning customers up was so natural by the time I had to leave work, I barely had to think about it, but after a few hiccups yesterday, I realized that working on the registers is an excellent workout for my cognition. I felt a little dumb when I would forget or overlook something I never would have before as the FEMwatched,an employee that I trained many months ago, but her paitence never made me feel stupid, in fact she was ecstatic to have me back behind the registers, as was I. By the end of the shift I was really getting back into the groove, I felt purposefull and usefull, something I haven't felt in nine months. I was exhausted when I got home from focusing so hard and I determined last night to become a rock star cashier once again.

Attitude Adjustment

I was in a serious funk yesterday, for whatever reason I was super irritated during therapy and therefore fore did not put as much into it as I could have. I hate it when I allow my pissy moods to waylay my therapy time, since I don't have much left. Yesterday my good friend, Sheila came to visit me this was the first time we've seen each other since the stroke, but she had a big hand in finding me the support and motivation I neededdesperately, so I was thrilled to get a chance to sit with her and let her see the fruits of her efforts, all of the cards I received. On a day like I had yesterday, it was absolutelynecessary to have her there, as she has always been a calming and comforting influence, I needed her energy with me. Talking to her also reminded me how lucky I am, that despite all of this I still have a perfect little baby and a loving, caring husband, so, last night before I went to bed I recommitted myself to being grateful and excited about everyday and it paid off. I got up ready to work my butt off in therapy and excited to see what they had in store for me, and, let me tell you it was a damn good session! Today I was working with Courteny, I work with different PTs almost everytime, each has their own style and each pushes me in different ways, Courteny is one of the tougher PTs, she knows what I'm capable of, more so than I do, so she works at getting as lmuchout of me, plus she's creative! So I'm never doing the same things with her, so it's always exciting to see what she has planned. My therapy is done at a local fitness center, so Courteny took me up into the room where all of the exercise machines are, she put me on a glider type thing that I could hold myself up on, and I could use my left leg, it was the first actual exercise I've been able to do since the stroke and it felt so good! She showed that there are ways that I can get exercise. I felt energized after my five minutes on the glider, next, we went into a seperate room and she had me stand one foot in front of the other on top of a styrofoam cylinder that had been cut in half. I started by holding on to some thing to balance myself, now I know this probably doesn't sound too challenging, but, when the blood clot formed on the front right side of my brain it pushed my brain over, shifting my midline over to the side-Most stroke survivors have issues with balance, but this midline shift makes my balance issues doubled, infact, rwhile I was in the ICU I couldn't even look people straight in the eyesa or sit up straight, one of my earliest memories of rehab is, one of my PTs sitting me down on a mat table and asking me to siy up straight and I totally felt like I was straight up and down like an arrow, but then she slid a mirror in front of me and I was leaning way to the right!Wow, freaky.- So this particular exercise really challenged me, then I thought I'd go a bit further with it and let go of wht I was holding onto and there I stood, not holding onto anything, balancing myself! I even did a little squat there, just to show off! When I got home I was flying high, I am now convinced I amcapable of anything!

Hooked On a Feelin'

After a pretty discouraging day yesterday, I decided the key to my salvation was reclaiming one of my favorite pastimes:crocheting. Since this all began my therapists have been working tirelessly to find me a way to crochet, all of the ideas have been very innovative, but frustrating, crocheting used to be as narural to me as breathing and having to think so hard about how to do it frustrated me to the point of throwing it across the room, I admit, I am guilty of giving up when things get too hard, but yesterday I sat myself down and decided I was going to figure out how to do the easiest stitch, the single crochet before I got back up. And I managed to sort out how to use the complex mechanism the therapists at the university'ss clinic came up with and got a couple of stitches done, they were messy, but I figured out how to fix that today, now, I intend to remaster this craft on my own so I can return to my former glory:                                                            

The Machine

You know the machine that Count Rugen hooks Wesley up to in The Princess Bride? It is intended to take years off of his life, but instead sends him back to infancy. Well, my stroke basically did the same thing to me. I have essentially been reset to the beginning of life, having to relearn how to walk, talk and write again and, lately, I'm finding I am back to a second go at adolescence, relearning how to communicate in a rational and non-impulsive way, relearning who I am and becoming comfortable in my skin again and learning how to think critically through any problem I am faced with and figuring out how to be an independent adult again. As I mulled over this issue on my walk today, I wandered through a brief haze of tears and hopelessness, but then I reminded myself that I learned all of those things before, with a minimum amount of scarring and now I get to learn them again, with the hindsight we wish we all had the first time around and no matter how hopeless something seems I refuse to give up on myself, Charlotte deserves better than that. So here I go again....

The Phoenix

these past few days I've been working through some unresolved issues from my past and in doing this, I've been learning a lot about letting go. Last night I was really thinking about these things and what my life is today and I thought to myelf::" Self, you are exactly where you are supposed to be, your life is perfect the way it is, so I think it's time to forget about allof that over dramatic bullshit that happened forever ago and move on." And I did! And for the first time in years I let go of this thing I'd been clinging to for years, I felt free, calm and happy, today as I thought more about it, I realized that I've been clinging desperatelyonto who I was before the stroke, hoping that woman would magically reappear, but, he's not going to, because who I am now is who I have become through all of this and tonight I realized I am: a phoenix rising from the ashes of a brain injury and I gewt better and more comfortable with who I am today.It is time to stop waiting for someone to reappear who is not here anymore, it's time to get to know who is here now, she's pretty much the same as that other lady I've been waiting for.

Facing My Face

When we were at the book signing last week, a woman from the university was there and she was going to write an articlr about the event, so she interviewed me and took some pictures of me and the fam, she sent me the pictures the other day and this is one of them, imagine my dismay at this horrific image of myself, I really felt like I was smiling with my whole mouth at that moment and yesterday, I let it start to get to me, believing myself disfigured and ugly so, last night as I worked on getting ready for bed, I told myself to stop being silly, I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror and did not see an ugly woman staring back at me, I saw a woman who gave birth to a beautiful baby girl while having a stokeand lived to tell the talr. I saw a woman who gets stronger everyday, both physically and emotionally, and that woman is not ugly, there is nothing ugly about her. I saw all of the lessons I've learne about myself in the last 8 months, I saw all of the great things I have. for the first time in my life I think I actually saw myself, the way others see me and it's a pretty nice view,

Self-worth

The other dayMatt and I were discussing how self- worth is defined by a person, is it measured on somsocietal based standards? Like the size of you 401K? I find this an interesting question, because Christopher Reeve talks a lot about self-worth in his book, "Nothing is Impossible", he said that believing in your self-worth is the keay to successdul recovery, since I read that many months ago, I've been thinking about that alot. Am I worth all of the work I'm putting in?You bet I am! This is a huge statement coming from me, since I tend to struggle with some pretty deep seeded insecurities, so the fact that I am now able to say that I'm worth all of the work I'm putting in is a huge step forward. It shows me that this experience has not only strengthed me physically but emotionally as well anf that's certainly worth it!

Hair

One of my earliest and clearest memories from my time in the ICU was the day Matt told me they had to shave half my head for surgery, my hand shot up and I felt the bristly short hair and the "U" shaped line of staples holding my incision shut, I attempted to not be traumatized as I've tried to avoid being one of those redheads who puts way too muvh importance on their hair color. At one point Matt told me we had a bag of the hair they had shaved off, did I want to donate it? Yes, I did, then he asked what I wanted to do about the rest of the hair. He asked if I wanted to shave the rest off, I said, sure, I've always wondered what I'd look like with a shaved head. So I decided to let it be and wait for the short stuff to grow out to my shoulders so I could cut the long stuff to match, but that left me with a lopsided hairdo that made it look like I didn't own a mirror. I am someone who always throws my hair up to get it out of the way, something that is difficult to do one-handedI felt weighed down by my one side of uber-hair, it was always hanging over the left side of my face, blocking my view of the side of my body I tend to forhet about. It was impossible to deal wqith my super long hair in the shower with my one hand, so one day I implored my friend to vut it off for me and she did!It was a litte shocking at first, but now that it's been a day, I feel free from the restraints of my long hair, it no longer gets in the way when I brush my teeth or get dressed and it's not laying on my neck making me hot and showering is a breeze. I feel free, and I feel like I have a bit of closure now that I've evened my hair out, like my hair was holding me back or something I noe feel like I can do anything! That anything is possible, who knew a haircut could be so good for you?