My Stroke

My Frien’s,

I did have a mild stroke (TIA), and here is my version of what happened....with the usual admonition that the story is more important than the exact truth. Last Sunday, I was “pulling” a roast to make burritos. I was almost through when I looked down and thought, “where did that arm come from?” realizing at the same time that it was mine (the medical folks refer to this as the alien hand syndrome…a sure indicator of a stroke). I thought this whole situation a little bizarre but, since I could control that unknown hand, I kept shredding the meat.

Then Diana comes in and asks, “Do you want to take some fresh dates (one of my favorite snacks) to the War Eagle Woodcarving Seminar.” My answer did not make sense….but somewhat used to this Cajun not always giving answers that make sense, she asked again, “What?” Although my answer was a sentence, it did not relate to the subject. I then started sentences that changed to gibberish. I knew what words I wanted to say; but, other words came out instead. Diana realized what must be happening and had me hustled out the door while I was still attempting to answer the question about the dates and tell her I wanted to put up the roast and beans first! Luckily our son, and family, live on the ranch. Diana thought he should drive and she decided that the drive to Springfield (hour and a half) where our Doctors are located was too long. We headed for Harrison (half an hour).

The emergency room there is very efficient and had me undergoing tests in a hurry. I still could not communicate very well. I knew what I needed to say but other words came out. They decided to do a CT scan…after hours, empty halls, just me and the young lady operating the machine.

She got real rattled by being left alone with a guy who finds a strange hand in front of his face and lets out a startled yelp saying “who’s hand is that?” Yep happened again. That was not my hand but it musta been mine…..I could control it! Bad time for communicative skills to return. Seeing her concern, realizing what was happening, I decided to relieve the tension Not a good idea to try and humor on a young lady who is already wondering about your sanity. Especially by saying, “aliens have taken over my arm,” then pointing to the CT Scanner and saying, “they used that thing.”

Then a very inopportune moment for gibberish to return. Especially when what you are trying to say as she does wheelies with the gurney around the corners, is, “Please slow down. I was only kidding!” It was a very fast return to the emergency room! Where the admitting physician said they needed to watch my oxygen levels and sent me to ICU……….or at least I remember him saying something about watching me more carefully.

The next day they said something about it being a good idea to turn me over to my regular doctors. Luckily, communicative skills were still questionable…and I was not tempted to delve into their motivation. My frien’s, Labor Day in the back of an ambulance is a wild ride. Traffic up to Cox Hospital (Springfield, MO) was incredibly heavy. One enterprising driver saw a good opportunity and fell in behind the ambulance (literally right on the back bumper). Diana got to ride up front in the comfortable seat and I got to watch out the back window as the ambulance had to make a very quick stop and our “shadow” headed for the median, as did the two cars behind him. Sure got my mind off the stroke as I thought, “hell . I’m not going to live to worry about a stroke anyhow.”

But, I did make it to Cox, there are no lasting problems, the prognosis is good (even considering the blood pressure vs. coumadin problem). But, I do have a piece of advice for woodcarvers….it is not a good idea to out a carving knife and ask the nurse if you can carve in bed…unless you are willing to undergo a lot of tests for what they are convinced is another stroke. There may even have been something said about the psych ward.

This is the next epistle concerning the stroke.

My Frien’s, I am back home, back on the woodcarving forum and back on my desktop…..which has a real keyboard. I never did figure out what there was about my trying to type on Diana’s laptop that caused the cursor to jump back into the middle of what I had already typed…………….one of them gremlin type bugs I guess.

I had one final scare at the hospital. The Doc said, “get the hell out of here” or something very close to that, followed by instructions to use injectable coumin at home, “the nurse will show you how.” Well, the first problem was the nurse coming in and saying, “Doctor Gose told me to give you a Coumadin injection and to show you how to do it. I never heard of this stuff going in the jugular, but if that’s what she said to do…..” Yep, the nurse took revenge on me for having had a rowdy room mate. Who had already been sent home. Seriously, it is wonderful to have a room mate who loves humor as much as you do. Ken was still in the “can’t remember the right word” phase of his stroke. I was getting to the point that I could translate for him to the medical staff…..very interesting. When he got ready to leave the room upon his discharge, I told him, “I’ll walk as far as the nurse’s station with you.” He replied, “Good, I am going to miss your company.” “Me too,” I said, “but, I am going to ask the nurses if they can’t find someone who can speak English for my next roommate!” Ken loved it!

Anyway, after showing me how to give the injections (in the stomach) she left to go get my discharge formalized and order a wheel chair. Isn’t it strange that the hospital literally says, “take up thy bed and walk” almost the minute you arrive. Up and down the halls constantly……then says, “you got to ride down to your car in a wheelchair” and finally lets you drive away? Since we live in a very rural area, I decided to pick up those Coumadin shots in Springfield. Called half a dozen pharmacies……no shots in stock, can’t even order them in before Monday. I wandered back out to the nurses station, got suspicious about the number of congratulations on “getting out of here” and told my nurse, “can’t find a source for the shots”. She was very sympathetic, “Oh No! We can’t let you go home without them!” and very anxious to help, “I’ll have the social worker find a source! You are going home today!” Dedication to helping patients is a wonderful thing.

She found my Coumadin shots, ordered my wheel chair (fastest I have ever seen one arrive) for the ride to the entrance, I climbed behind the wheel and we drove away. Got home last night and got an answer to a puzzle I did not know needed solving. I got on the Woodcarving Illustrated Forum right away and found a post that said, “Coumadin, that’s warfarin when they give it to rats! Has your nose been twitching?”

Well My Frien’s, my nose has not been twitching but it is time to end this Epistle from Paul and satisfy my insatiable desire for cheese.