August 12th 2009 6.30 p.m, was the exact time I left the care of Oakdale Ward at Harrogate Hospital after six weeks of care.
Now it was time to face the big world and adjust to life at home. Everyone needed to adjust and the bulk of this fell to my husband.
The house seemed quite large and now with many pitfalls. I slept in the back bedroom and all was ready for me including a commode for overnight. I could not get in/out/sit up in bed unaided. How weak my back muscles were.
So, when I needed anything I simply shouted! For the first couple of weeks sleeping proved difficult, I just was too scared to sleep in case anything happened to me.
After breakfast in bed I would shower in the loft. I was helped upstairs and seen to be safe sitting on my shower stool and then assisted with my dressing.
It seemed strange not to be able to do as much as I would have wanted, sitting down is not in my nature. Meals were made, shopping had to be done as had the washing. In fact all the routine daily chores were done by my husband. How very frustrating it all was. He beavered all day long whilst I just had to sit around.
All of this seemed very unfair.
An Occupational Therapist visited and assessed any further needs, she arranged for a splint to be made. This was "custom made" and was to be worn to keep me fingers open. I wore it on and off throughout the day as well as overnight initially. To date I wear it overnight - at least for 11 hours.
The Physio and Occupational Therapist from the ward visited me at home two or three times. They had me outside walking down the road and watched as I made a cuppa. We discussed the layout of the house and any further help that I thought that I may need.
The Community Physio visited on three occasions and did exercises with me. I would sit on the settee with a dining chair in front of me as she advised of different exercises to do. Probably other types of work also, but I cannot remember the specifics.
It was now that the Stroke Association Coordinator began her visits to the house. She was able to advise on benefits, aids, services, and prompts such as "now you can start light dusting" and how good it was to have her continuity. Someone who knew how stroke patients felt and to be able to re-assure.
I feel very fortunate to have had the continuity, virtually un-broken, from ward to home.
My husband was off work for the first three weeks of my returning home, my eldest son came for the next two and my other son after that.
Wednesday, 26 January 2011
Monday, 24 January 2011
Pre - Discharge
Date of Discharge Agreed: 21st Aug
Two tests that I also had were:
Heart Echo Scan - this was taken on the Ward by a mobile scanner.
An X-Ray of my Right leg as it had begun to swell up after 3/4 weeks, but it was found to be ok and so I had to sit with my right leg up and supported by a foot stool.
Around ten days before discharge the Pharmacist visited and explained about my medication. I was asked if I was confident enough to take control. I was issued with a laminated sheet of my prescription drugs and the times at which they were taken. OK, when the nurses came with the "sweetie trolley" I had now to tell them what I wanted.
So far so good, I was then issued with a "weekly" tablet box which meant that I had to learn how to use it and load the drugs in the boxes at the correct times. Success!
I was taken on a home visit by the Physio and Occupational Therapist. On a sunny afternoon I was taken by taxi - how peculiar it all seemed - being in a wheelchair and pushed up a ramp!
The house looked bright and very clean. My husband had taken up the kitchen mat and I smelt the polish that he had cleaned the leather suite with. Suddenly, the house looked challenging.
I was asked to make a cup of tea for us and we discussed the layout of the kitchen. I also had to walk up and down the stairs, something which I had been shown how to do by the Physio's in hospital.
Showering was discussed and at that time the only shower that I could manage was in the loft! So we agreed that I would breakfast upstairs and the go up to the loft for my daily shower. This would be the "most economical and efficient" way for me to manage.
We then discussed what aids I would need. I seem to remember giving the response, "As little as possible as I don't want to be an invalid".
Before I was discharged they had arranged for hand rails on the stairs, a stool to sit on in the shower, a perching stool for bathroom/kitchen use, a two tier trolley to move items around and a wheelchair.
My how things had changed for all of us.
Two tests that I also had were:
Heart Echo Scan - this was taken on the Ward by a mobile scanner.
An X-Ray of my Right leg as it had begun to swell up after 3/4 weeks, but it was found to be ok and so I had to sit with my right leg up and supported by a foot stool.
Around ten days before discharge the Pharmacist visited and explained about my medication. I was asked if I was confident enough to take control. I was issued with a laminated sheet of my prescription drugs and the times at which they were taken. OK, when the nurses came with the "sweetie trolley" I had now to tell them what I wanted.
So far so good, I was then issued with a "weekly" tablet box which meant that I had to learn how to use it and load the drugs in the boxes at the correct times. Success!
I was taken on a home visit by the Physio and Occupational Therapist. On a sunny afternoon I was taken by taxi - how peculiar it all seemed - being in a wheelchair and pushed up a ramp!
The house looked bright and very clean. My husband had taken up the kitchen mat and I smelt the polish that he had cleaned the leather suite with. Suddenly, the house looked challenging.
I was asked to make a cup of tea for us and we discussed the layout of the kitchen. I also had to walk up and down the stairs, something which I had been shown how to do by the Physio's in hospital.
Showering was discussed and at that time the only shower that I could manage was in the loft! So we agreed that I would breakfast upstairs and the go up to the loft for my daily shower. This would be the "most economical and efficient" way for me to manage.
We then discussed what aids I would need. I seem to remember giving the response, "As little as possible as I don't want to be an invalid".
Before I was discharged they had arranged for hand rails on the stairs, a stool to sit on in the shower, a perching stool for bathroom/kitchen use, a two tier trolley to move items around and a wheelchair.
My how things had changed for all of us.
Tuesday, 18 January 2011
Visits
Chatting is my passion and so the visits were always welcome.
My husband continued to go to work whilst I was an in-patient but he was always at the ward at 6pm prompt, Mon - Fri. Friends continued to visit, one turning up on the afternoon of my discharge day.
I am not exactly sure when I was allowed to have visits away from the ward. My husband would arrive for evening visiting and we would leave the ward and meet family and friends either in the garden or the WRVS Cafe at the front of the hospital.
Being in the garden on a warm summers evening seemed so tranquil, some evenings my husband would push me around the "block". The Knaresborough Road and Wetherby Road AND the dreaded magic roundabout seemed so unreal and so busy. On occasions friends would walk around the block with us.
Being out of the ward's environment was so different and it was a step nearer to going home. I looked forward to this change of scenery and fresh air.
One person who visited looked at me and simply said, "You look just the same". Of course I did, I was me, it never occurred to me that I may look any different! I may have sounded slightly different when I got tired or over-enthusiastic.
I just say two things to people:
Having the Stroke is easy, it's the recovery that is hard. You must be doggedly determined to get better.
Life has not ended, it's now just a different way of life.
My husband continued to go to work whilst I was an in-patient but he was always at the ward at 6pm prompt, Mon - Fri. Friends continued to visit, one turning up on the afternoon of my discharge day.
I am not exactly sure when I was allowed to have visits away from the ward. My husband would arrive for evening visiting and we would leave the ward and meet family and friends either in the garden or the WRVS Cafe at the front of the hospital.
Being in the garden on a warm summers evening seemed so tranquil, some evenings my husband would push me around the "block". The Knaresborough Road and Wetherby Road AND the dreaded magic roundabout seemed so unreal and so busy. On occasions friends would walk around the block with us.
Being out of the ward's environment was so different and it was a step nearer to going home. I looked forward to this change of scenery and fresh air.
One person who visited looked at me and simply said, "You look just the same". Of course I did, I was me, it never occurred to me that I may look any different! I may have sounded slightly different when I got tired or over-enthusiastic.
I just say two things to people:
Having the Stroke is easy, it's the recovery that is hard. You must be doggedly determined to get better.
Life has not ended, it's now just a different way of life.
Monday, 17 January 2011
August 12th 2009
I had spent the previous few years involved with the local AmDram group and my time had been occupied with fund-raising along with a small body of members.
This was to be the night of the official opening of the new and upgraded facilities at the Theatre and I most definitely was going to be there!
The Ward Sister allowed me to have my hair and nails done for the occasion. The nurses got me ready, one even spraying me with her perfume.
I went with my prepared speech, dictated by me and written by Marjorie.
The Consultant had given the go-ahead for me to attend and be back "whenever". What a tonic this was and this date had kept me focused on my recovery. I would give a speech.
My husband returned me to the ward at around 10.15pm
The staff made us both a drink and I felt like a naughty schoolgirl as we tried to get back to my room. Exhausted, elated I tried to sleep.
Pauline, the lady I was standing on the pavement with when it happened. What a shock she had, we stood with our arms around one another unable to move.
 |
| This is just 5 weeks after the fateful night |
Week-ends Out
During my time as an in-patient I was allowed home for a few hours during the week-ends of:
August 1st and 2nd, 8/9th and 15/16th.
These I looked forward to, but they also took a certain amount of planning.
The physio had to show me and my husband how to transfer from wheelchair to car and vice versa. Something else to learn and I had to also feel confident in letting my husband take control!
On the very first visit home I looked forwards to fish and chips from the local "chippy". I managed to sit at the dining table along with other members of my family. I just bursted into tears as they were all eating with knives and forks whilst I had to have my food cut up for me and could only use a fork. This was the first time that I had encountered my "disability" on this level.
I visited our local cricket club to watch a bit of the action, but it all seemed so unreal. I was sitting in a wheelchair trying to make small talk with all my friends. I put on a brave face and joked about it but underneath was really smarting. Other days out usually involved trips to my local Matalan store to buy suitable (and bigger) clothing.
Eventaully, I began to cherish these days and had accepted the fact that this was my lot for the time being.
I have always maintained from day one that "this was a temporary state of affairs and I would recover from it"
*I now have a greater understanding of what it is like to be disabled and can empathise with them.
People who see me with a walking stick and walk infront of me do not comprehend that they can put me off balance.
People who use toilets for the disabled who shouldn't do not realise that they can be the cause of "accidents".
August 1st and 2nd, 8/9th and 15/16th.
These I looked forward to, but they also took a certain amount of planning.
The physio had to show me and my husband how to transfer from wheelchair to car and vice versa. Something else to learn and I had to also feel confident in letting my husband take control!
On the very first visit home I looked forwards to fish and chips from the local "chippy". I managed to sit at the dining table along with other members of my family. I just bursted into tears as they were all eating with knives and forks whilst I had to have my food cut up for me and could only use a fork. This was the first time that I had encountered my "disability" on this level.
I visited our local cricket club to watch a bit of the action, but it all seemed so unreal. I was sitting in a wheelchair trying to make small talk with all my friends. I put on a brave face and joked about it but underneath was really smarting. Other days out usually involved trips to my local Matalan store to buy suitable (and bigger) clothing.
Eventaully, I began to cherish these days and had accepted the fact that this was my lot for the time being.
I have always maintained from day one that "this was a temporary state of affairs and I would recover from it"
*I now have a greater understanding of what it is like to be disabled and can empathise with them.
People who see me with a walking stick and walk infront of me do not comprehend that they can put me off balance.
People who use toilets for the disabled who shouldn't do not realise that they can be the cause of "accidents".
Thursday, 13 January 2011
Staff/Family/Friends/Colleagues
Staff, family, friends and work colleagues continued to be supportive during the time that I was in hospital.
I was introduced to staff who were now more active in my care: Occupational Therapist, Pharmacists and The Stroke Association Coordinator.
The occupational therapist taught me how to dress and un-dress and how to have a wash and assisted me with showering, as did the nurses. All these new ways of tackling mundane things. Fancy having to learn these things again at 56!!
Jenny, from The Stroke Association, introduced herself as the person who would be part of my care team when I was discharged. The link between hospital and home.We chatted and I seem to remember that all that really concerned me about discharge was having a "Blue Badge".
One of my friends, Marjorie, seemed to know exactly what my needs were: underwear that I could actually manage to put on myself, (sports bras or camisole tops with inserts), how things had changed.
Other friends and colleagues brought in all manner of gifts including necklaces that I could put on over my head, pashmina, toiletries etc, sweeties and chocolates and flowers in bunches, bouquets and arrangements.
How lucky to receive all these thoughtful gifts and how very lucky to have so many friends.
I soon befriended the WRVS flower ladies who looked after all my beautiful summer flowers!
It is at this point that I should make a reference to my father. Dad was 90 when this happened to me and was to be 91 in the September. Two of my cousins brought him in to visit me, another tearjerker of a moment. He arrived in his wheelchair, took hold of my hand and as I remember just simply asked "was I going to recover" and that was that. Dad had always been "black and white". I think that he visited on another couple of occasions.As usual it wasn't long before he had begun his usual banter.
I was introduced to staff who were now more active in my care: Occupational Therapist, Pharmacists and The Stroke Association Coordinator.
The occupational therapist taught me how to dress and un-dress and how to have a wash and assisted me with showering, as did the nurses. All these new ways of tackling mundane things. Fancy having to learn these things again at 56!!
Jenny, from The Stroke Association, introduced herself as the person who would be part of my care team when I was discharged. The link between hospital and home.We chatted and I seem to remember that all that really concerned me about discharge was having a "Blue Badge".
One of my friends, Marjorie, seemed to know exactly what my needs were: underwear that I could actually manage to put on myself, (sports bras or camisole tops with inserts), how things had changed.
Other friends and colleagues brought in all manner of gifts including necklaces that I could put on over my head, pashmina, toiletries etc, sweeties and chocolates and flowers in bunches, bouquets and arrangements.
How lucky to receive all these thoughtful gifts and how very lucky to have so many friends.
I soon befriended the WRVS flower ladies who looked after all my beautiful summer flowers!
It is at this point that I should make a reference to my father. Dad was 90 when this happened to me and was to be 91 in the September. Two of my cousins brought him in to visit me, another tearjerker of a moment. He arrived in his wheelchair, took hold of my hand and as I remember just simply asked "was I going to recover" and that was that. Dad had always been "black and white". I think that he visited on another couple of occasions.As usual it wasn't long before he had begun his usual banter.
Wednesday, 12 January 2011
BBC News article: 12th January 2011
Tuesday, 11 January 2011
Daily Physio
From the time I went to the ward to more or less the day of discharge I had physio Monday - Friday.
I soon built up a good working relationship with her and the Snr. Physio who oversaw some sessions.
I guess that we started on the leg which would enable me to become mobile. (My right hand was quite clawed and shut tight) How long would it be before I could walk again? Yes - I had to learn how to walk. Just what had exactly happened on that fateful night?
We did work whilst I sat in the chair beside my bed - I couldn't initially pull up my foot from the floor by lifting it from the heel.
Work was done on the bed as she lifted my legs and I tried to gently lower them. "Bed work" included trying to lift my bottom off the bed, pulling my straight leg back so that my knee was at 90degrees to the bed.
Physio Room work included lying flat on the bed with the right leg dangling over the side and the Physio doing a bicycle movement with the leg.
I stood and faced the bed and walked sideways along the length of the bed, leaning into it for safety. Balance was a big issue.
I seem to remember doing work with some sort of small apparatus - but I really can't remember what it was.
Eventually, I would go in a wheelchair to the room but walk back to my room with the assistance of the physio and wall rail.
All of this work was very debilitating.
I was so determined to get better that when I was able I would go outside my room and hold on to the hand rail and try and walk forwards and backwards.
Then the resident ward male physio came one day and told me that he would get me walking. My look of disbelief must have stunned him. No sticks - unaided!!! "Yeah get real" or something similar was my reply, but I had seen this guy work and trusted him implicitly.
He took me outside my room and we did "High 5's" he walking backwards across the corridor and me forwards, then in reverse and we repeated this. Next I was on my own - could I really do this? After a few minutes of training - YES!! How I loved this guy.
He took me back to my room and I began to cry. He said only one word as he smiled at me, "Enjoy".
I soon built up a good working relationship with her and the Snr. Physio who oversaw some sessions.
I guess that we started on the leg which would enable me to become mobile. (My right hand was quite clawed and shut tight) How long would it be before I could walk again? Yes - I had to learn how to walk. Just what had exactly happened on that fateful night?
We did work whilst I sat in the chair beside my bed - I couldn't initially pull up my foot from the floor by lifting it from the heel.
Work was done on the bed as she lifted my legs and I tried to gently lower them. "Bed work" included trying to lift my bottom off the bed, pulling my straight leg back so that my knee was at 90degrees to the bed.
Physio Room work included lying flat on the bed with the right leg dangling over the side and the Physio doing a bicycle movement with the leg.
I stood and faced the bed and walked sideways along the length of the bed, leaning into it for safety. Balance was a big issue.
I seem to remember doing work with some sort of small apparatus - but I really can't remember what it was.
Eventually, I would go in a wheelchair to the room but walk back to my room with the assistance of the physio and wall rail.
All of this work was very debilitating.
I was so determined to get better that when I was able I would go outside my room and hold on to the hand rail and try and walk forwards and backwards.
Then the resident ward male physio came one day and told me that he would get me walking. My look of disbelief must have stunned him. No sticks - unaided!!! "Yeah get real" or something similar was my reply, but I had seen this guy work and trusted him implicitly.
He took me outside my room and we did "High 5's" he walking backwards across the corridor and me forwards, then in reverse and we repeated this. Next I was on my own - could I really do this? After a few minutes of training - YES!! How I loved this guy.
He took me back to my room and I began to cry. He said only one word as he smiled at me, "Enjoy".
Straight Down The Middle
After the initial few days of lounging in the Stroke Unit, being moved onto the Stroke Ward, albeit in a single room, seemed to me to be progress. Assessments had been made and re-hab plan sorted.
It was at this point,when I was now able to be out of bed, that I took stock of how I had been affected.
It was as though a line had been drawn down the centre of my body, from head to toe, and all points to the right had been affected in some way:-
Left eye, (as we are cross-wired), right of centre of my teeth, right centre of lips, right arm hand and fingers, right leg and foot and also bladder and bowels.
My teeth seemed to have no feeling and this was a complete nightmare as I often chomped away on my inner cheek which caused mouth ulcers. It was very difficult to chew food and so I took the "easy eating" option from the menu to begin with. I tried to de-sensitise my lips and arm by stroking them.
The ward physio began working with me, sometimes in my room and at other times in the dedicated physio treatment room.
At my field vision test I just fired at everything that appeared to move, the card looked like a shoot out at the O.K. Corral. I had another couple of tests whilst I was an in-patient, and thankfully improved as I had continued to do the eye strengthening exercises. I have also had a couple of follow up appointments since being discharged.
I also found out that I couldn't whistle or blow my nose - to date these are things that I still cannot do. (18 months on)
It was at this point,when I was now able to be out of bed, that I took stock of how I had been affected.
It was as though a line had been drawn down the centre of my body, from head to toe, and all points to the right had been affected in some way:-
Left eye, (as we are cross-wired), right of centre of my teeth, right centre of lips, right arm hand and fingers, right leg and foot and also bladder and bowels.
My teeth seemed to have no feeling and this was a complete nightmare as I often chomped away on my inner cheek which caused mouth ulcers. It was very difficult to chew food and so I took the "easy eating" option from the menu to begin with. I tried to de-sensitise my lips and arm by stroking them.
The ward physio began working with me, sometimes in my room and at other times in the dedicated physio treatment room.
At my field vision test I just fired at everything that appeared to move, the card looked like a shoot out at the O.K. Corral. I had another couple of tests whilst I was an in-patient, and thankfully improved as I had continued to do the eye strengthening exercises. I have also had a couple of follow up appointments since being discharged.
I also found out that I couldn't whistle or blow my nose - to date these are things that I still cannot do. (18 months on)
Transfer from Unit to Ward
I have no idea how long I was in the Stoke Unit, but I guess that it was around 6 days.
During this time I became more compos mentis. The staff were brilliant and continued to assist with my washing/bathing/ablutions.Another friend also worked on the ward so two friendly faces, this made me feel more at ease.
Once the monitors had been removed I was transferred into a single room by the Nurse's station and this was the beginning of the next step to recovery.
The daily routine continued in much the same way: meals, tablets, washing and putting on face and hand cream, stroking my right arm - to remind it that it was still there and for a purpose!
I think that it was probably around this time that the physio became more active in my recovery.
I was positive in my outlook and remained focused that I would recover. What could I do to kick start myself?
- A daily paper seemed to be the answer. Read, keep up with events in the big wide world that all seemed to have been put on hold. For good measure attempt the crossword. - get my brain cells going and learn to write with my left hand. I bought my first paper from the WRVS trolley (I also knew this volunteer more joy at another friendly face). As I began to read, it became apparent that I could not focus on the bottom third or quarter of the page. I alerted the nurses to this problem. What was this, was my eyesight affected also?
I tried to convince myself that my spectacle frames were bent and that my varifocal lenses weren't "spotting" as they should. A friend, who I shall refer to as Mrs. Goggins, came to visit and she kindly took my spec's to have them checked over. NO! they were fine, so it must be my left eye.
At the next Consultant's visit we discussed my progress and he suggested a "field vision test" with the ophthalmic dept. Great, another thing wrong.
During this time I became more compos mentis. The staff were brilliant and continued to assist with my washing/bathing/ablutions.Another friend also worked on the ward so two friendly faces, this made me feel more at ease.
Once the monitors had been removed I was transferred into a single room by the Nurse's station and this was the beginning of the next step to recovery.
The daily routine continued in much the same way: meals, tablets, washing and putting on face and hand cream, stroking my right arm - to remind it that it was still there and for a purpose!
I think that it was probably around this time that the physio became more active in my recovery.
I was positive in my outlook and remained focused that I would recover. What could I do to kick start myself?
- A daily paper seemed to be the answer. Read, keep up with events in the big wide world that all seemed to have been put on hold. For good measure attempt the crossword. - get my brain cells going and learn to write with my left hand. I bought my first paper from the WRVS trolley (I also knew this volunteer more joy at another friendly face). As I began to read, it became apparent that I could not focus on the bottom third or quarter of the page. I alerted the nurses to this problem. What was this, was my eyesight affected also?
I tried to convince myself that my spectacle frames were bent and that my varifocal lenses weren't "spotting" as they should. A friend, who I shall refer to as Mrs. Goggins, came to visit and she kindly took my spec's to have them checked over. NO! they were fine, so it must be my left eye.
At the next Consultant's visit we discussed my progress and he suggested a "field vision test" with the ophthalmic dept. Great, another thing wrong.
Thursday, 6 January 2011
The Next Few Days
The following days are also sketchy. I can only suppose that it was "more of the same".
I vividly remember being taken in a wheelchair to have a bath. What fun and how I laughed with the nurse who had to do everything for me. Lowered into the bath in a hoist - I just floated and felt helpless. The nurse wrapped me in towels, like a Mummy, and wheeled me back to the Unit. That was my one and only bath.
The Consultant came again and asked me to draw a clock face and "other stuff" but I cannot remember what. Left handed - now that was a challenge. I don't suppose at this time I really realised the full impact of how I had been affected.
The Speech Therapist also visited - how lucky that I only temporary suffered with that, and after a a week or so was discharged from their care. Even now, when I get tired I know that I sound a bit slurred. One of the biggest frustrations is that I cannot remember things or cannot find the correct word. This reminds me of one of Alan Bennet's "Talking Heads" But I cannot remember which one!
My husband continued to always be there, what impact this will have on him remained at this time rather unknown.
Friends came in their droves and I found it all very emotional and tiring. Trying to make small talk, but not succeeding. I was hugely grateful for all their support and was touched by their generosity of all the thoughtful gifts. Flowers continued to arrive and some had to be placed around the Unit and ward. Nurses said that they had never seen anything like it!
Finally, with exhaustion and a "pounding" head I asked the Sister to screen visitors and to make them aware of the situation. I needed rest and finally acknowledged the fact.
I vividly remember being taken in a wheelchair to have a bath. What fun and how I laughed with the nurse who had to do everything for me. Lowered into the bath in a hoist - I just floated and felt helpless. The nurse wrapped me in towels, like a Mummy, and wheeled me back to the Unit. That was my one and only bath.
The Consultant came again and asked me to draw a clock face and "other stuff" but I cannot remember what. Left handed - now that was a challenge. I don't suppose at this time I really realised the full impact of how I had been affected.
The Speech Therapist also visited - how lucky that I only temporary suffered with that, and after a a week or so was discharged from their care. Even now, when I get tired I know that I sound a bit slurred. One of the biggest frustrations is that I cannot remember things or cannot find the correct word. This reminds me of one of Alan Bennet's "Talking Heads" But I cannot remember which one!
My husband continued to always be there, what impact this will have on him remained at this time rather unknown.
Friends came in their droves and I found it all very emotional and tiring. Trying to make small talk, but not succeeding. I was hugely grateful for all their support and was touched by their generosity of all the thoughtful gifts. Flowers continued to arrive and some had to be placed around the Unit and ward. Nurses said that they had never seen anything like it!
Finally, with exhaustion and a "pounding" head I asked the Sister to screen visitors and to make them aware of the situation. I needed rest and finally acknowledged the fact.
Wednesday, 5 January 2011
Saturday 11th July - Monday 13th July 2009
I am quite sketchy about events during this period, but I'm fairly sure that Saturday probably started in much the same way as the previous day:
Breakfast, tablets and a wash given by one of the nurses. How frustrating and humiliating to have someone not only to assist, but to have to actually wash you and help you on and off the dreaded bedpans.
Mid-morning drink, lunch, mid-afternoon drink, evening meal and bedtime drink interspersed with drugs from the trolley, which I soon christened the "sweetie trolley". This was the daily routine of fodder.
My husband seemed to be with me from early morning to late at night right from the very beginning - how was HE coping? Who was looking after him?
My immediate family travelled to be with me and what a choker it was to see all 5 of them arrive at the Unit late on the Friday evening. I saw them walk towards the Unit, 5 abreast, and it reminded me of a scene from a cowboy film as they walk towards Saloon for a shootout!
Saturday and Sunday seemed manic. Loads of visitors - family, friends and work colleagues, some of whom had travelled great distances to visit. By now the Unit was looking like a flower shop with bouquets, arrangements and all manner of gifts arriving. All for me - and I could barely speak and was rather confused and all over the place. I could see these people but apart from acknowledging them could do precious little.
Monday morning seemed so flat after the friendly faces of the previous days. Who would I see today? Would there be any more treatment or would I just stay in bed again? How frustrating that I had no control over my body. I thought that I was a decent person what did I do so bad to deserve this? Had I not had enough in my little life? All the thoughts kept whizzing around but to what purpose? The more I thought the more that my head began to "knock".
Then - I could see my youngest son walking into the Unit. He couldn't go to work as he "could not concentrate". A tearjerker of a moment.
Breakfast, tablets and a wash given by one of the nurses. How frustrating and humiliating to have someone not only to assist, but to have to actually wash you and help you on and off the dreaded bedpans.
Mid-morning drink, lunch, mid-afternoon drink, evening meal and bedtime drink interspersed with drugs from the trolley, which I soon christened the "sweetie trolley". This was the daily routine of fodder.
My husband seemed to be with me from early morning to late at night right from the very beginning - how was HE coping? Who was looking after him?
My immediate family travelled to be with me and what a choker it was to see all 5 of them arrive at the Unit late on the Friday evening. I saw them walk towards the Unit, 5 abreast, and it reminded me of a scene from a cowboy film as they walk towards Saloon for a shootout!
Saturday and Sunday seemed manic. Loads of visitors - family, friends and work colleagues, some of whom had travelled great distances to visit. By now the Unit was looking like a flower shop with bouquets, arrangements and all manner of gifts arriving. All for me - and I could barely speak and was rather confused and all over the place. I could see these people but apart from acknowledging them could do precious little.
Monday morning seemed so flat after the friendly faces of the previous days. Who would I see today? Would there be any more treatment or would I just stay in bed again? How frustrating that I had no control over my body. I thought that I was a decent person what did I do so bad to deserve this? Had I not had enough in my little life? All the thoughts kept whizzing around but to what purpose? The more I thought the more that my head began to "knock".
Then - I could see my youngest son walking into the Unit. He couldn't go to work as he "could not concentrate". A tearjerker of a moment.
Tuesday, 4 January 2011
First day - Friday 10th July 2009
Grim Reality! Breakfast time.
There was only one other person in the Unit and her bed was diagonally opposite.
I watched as the breakfast trolley came and she had her food presented. There she was eating her porridge - using only one hand.
It was at this point that I realised what had happened to me and this could have been a mirror image.
Un-deterred, I opted for something easy to eat and had a go!
By now, my mind was racing - how long would I be like this? How quickly would I recover and be discharged? Didn't they know that I had an important event to attend on August 12th and needed to be out.
Sometime during the morning I was introduced to my care team, several people all standing at the foot of my bed. So many that I couldn't take in all their names and roles.
The Consultant, Ward Manager, Ward Sister, Dietitian, Snr Physio, Ward Physio, Speech Therapist,Occy Therapist. All active in my case - just how poorly was I?
How could I possibly relax with so many questions still to be answered.
There was only one other person in the Unit and her bed was diagonally opposite.
I watched as the breakfast trolley came and she had her food presented. There she was eating her porridge - using only one hand.
It was at this point that I realised what had happened to me and this could have been a mirror image.
Un-deterred, I opted for something easy to eat and had a go!
By now, my mind was racing - how long would I be like this? How quickly would I recover and be discharged? Didn't they know that I had an important event to attend on August 12th and needed to be out.
Sometime during the morning I was introduced to my care team, several people all standing at the foot of my bed. So many that I couldn't take in all their names and roles.
The Consultant, Ward Manager, Ward Sister, Dietitian, Snr Physio, Ward Physio, Speech Therapist,Occy Therapist. All active in my case - just how poorly was I?
How could I possibly relax with so many questions still to be answered.
First Few Hours
The immediate time after admission is rather sketchy. I can remember having an X-Ray, but everything seemed as though it was on a differrent parallel. (At this point I will apologise for incorrect words/terminology - something which which I find deeply frustrating.)
I possibly also had a CT Scan before being taken to the ward - I'm not sure when this occured - but I do remember having one!!
I reached Oakdale Ward's Stroke Unit at 1.10 am, I distinctly remember looking at the clock. I was in a bed at the far end of the Unit, next to the Nurse's Station. I remember trying to wriggle around and talk, but the nurse kept on telling me to relax!!
I was surprised and very pleased to see a member of staff that I recognised. (She had been a big help to me in 1997 when I had huge problems with my back.) I was given a spoonful of water to see if I could swallow - another routine test.
I was hooked up to monitors and through the curtain could see the readings - a 4 Way split screen telling all, but what did it mean?
Eventually, time to settle and to try and relax but my mind was just racing. What was wrong, how bad was it, would I get better and would I be "cabbaged"?
I possibly also had a CT Scan before being taken to the ward - I'm not sure when this occured - but I do remember having one!!
I reached Oakdale Ward's Stroke Unit at 1.10 am, I distinctly remember looking at the clock. I was in a bed at the far end of the Unit, next to the Nurse's Station. I remember trying to wriggle around and talk, but the nurse kept on telling me to relax!!
I was surprised and very pleased to see a member of staff that I recognised. (She had been a big help to me in 1997 when I had huge problems with my back.) I was given a spoonful of water to see if I could swallow - another routine test.
I was hooked up to monitors and through the curtain could see the readings - a 4 Way split screen telling all, but what did it mean?
Eventually, time to settle and to try and relax but my mind was just racing. What was wrong, how bad was it, would I get better and would I be "cabbaged"?
Sunday, 2 January 2011
Five Small Minutes
Sunday July 5 2009 I reached the ripe old age of 56. Four days later I received the most unwelcome birthday gift - a life changing stroke.
I had had a fairly routine day at work, and after my tea that evening I attended a meeting about fundraising for Knaresborough's Frazer Theatre. This event was held on a balmy summer's evening at a friend's house. I was chatting on the pavement outside afterwards, when I felt what felt like a kick in the back of my right knee. I told my friend that it felt as though I was suddenly drunk, despite only having a cuppa. Almost immediately afterwards I felt a second kick which saw me start to fall to the floor. My friend put her arms around me and held me up. I was unable to move as was my friend, I managed to tell her that I thought that I had suffered a stroke. Thankfully, the person whose house it was came outside and immediately rushed back in, dialling an ambulance and sent her two children outside with a chair and blankets.
It was only at this point that I understood the concept of an out of body experience. I heard the ambulance with the siren travelling up the road. The ambulance staff strapped me onto a stretcher and put me in the ambulance, asking routine questions which I was able to answer. I was admitted to Harrogate District Hospital where I began the long process of recovery which is still on-going. I am at present a "work in progress"!
These five short minutes were the start of a totally life-changing experience not only for me but also for my husband, family, and friends. This is why I have called my blog five small minutes.
Follow the link to find out information about strokes and the work of The Stroke Association.
http://www.stroke.org.uk/
I had had a fairly routine day at work, and after my tea that evening I attended a meeting about fundraising for Knaresborough's Frazer Theatre. This event was held on a balmy summer's evening at a friend's house. I was chatting on the pavement outside afterwards, when I felt what felt like a kick in the back of my right knee. I told my friend that it felt as though I was suddenly drunk, despite only having a cuppa. Almost immediately afterwards I felt a second kick which saw me start to fall to the floor. My friend put her arms around me and held me up. I was unable to move as was my friend, I managed to tell her that I thought that I had suffered a stroke. Thankfully, the person whose house it was came outside and immediately rushed back in, dialling an ambulance and sent her two children outside with a chair and blankets.
It was only at this point that I understood the concept of an out of body experience. I heard the ambulance with the siren travelling up the road. The ambulance staff strapped me onto a stretcher and put me in the ambulance, asking routine questions which I was able to answer. I was admitted to Harrogate District Hospital where I began the long process of recovery which is still on-going. I am at present a "work in progress"!
These five short minutes were the start of a totally life-changing experience not only for me but also for my husband, family, and friends. This is why I have called my blog five small minutes.
Follow the link to find out information about strokes and the work of The Stroke Association.
http://www.stroke.org.uk/
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