Siouxsie

At the beginning of the 2018 school year, a week before going back to my job as an art teacher, I had arranged with my partner to take his son to Mindarie. We were going to walk little Katey (my doggie) and have a snack; burger and fries, and a pup-a-cino for Katey.

The aneurysm happened incredibly quickly, without warning. I had a headache (for want of a better word) like I had never had before. It was as though my head was put into a vice, and then the vice tightened slowly. My response was to get into the backseat of the car and push my head against the seat. My doggo Katey was licking my face.

My partner’s son, Rowan said my voice was slurred. That was the last thing I

remember until I came around in the back of an ambulance. I was apologising to the ambulance attendee, saying, “I will be okay, I feel alright now, I am so sorry for inconveniencing everyone.” And then everything went black. I have no recollection of anything after that until I woke up in intensive care unaware of what had taken place.

I was not aware of this at the time, but I was told many times this it was the start of a long period of rehabilitation. Now, I am doubly, triply grateful for my parents, family and friends for their patience, kindness, and love.

Rehabilitation was absolutely necessary. I cannot and don’t want to imagine where I would be without it. In saying that, it requires dedication, both on the part of theoccu pational therapists, psychologists, physiotherapists, speech therapists, and you.

Without the dedication of a team of specialists, and my dad, mum and partner, I would have found the situation difficult, and it would have added to the ‘out of kilter’ feeling I was experiencing. It is hard to describe, like you are removed from yourself, still walking, talking, hearing, but in a weird fog. One bit doesn’t connect with the other, yet you are there.

It takes dedication, slogging away at the exercises, and just trying constantly.

There were times when I felt like giving up! Sometimes the difficulties appeared insurmountable. Sometimes it feels as though you make inroads, but then you get knocked back. Just part of life, I guess. There are times when you wonder, “How much can a koala bear?” My parents ingrained in me that you must work hard at what you do. Life just handed me a curve ball, and now I had to work to try and get better. An example of this was recording my dad’s voice on my phone when we were doing the exercises so I could practice when he wasn’t around. It doesn’t change that horrible feeling that you ‘could do that before’. Now, it is more difficult, but I am alive, thanks to wonderful surgeons, rehab people and constant checkups

Slowly, eventually, things came back, and like I said, differently, but they eventuallycame back. I still have difficulties and some will be ongoing, but the aneurysm haschanged my thinking about my life, finding and looking at what is right for me, what makes me zing!

I am fortunate that my work has been supportive through this process. In saying that, life challenges you in all ways. I may be moving on to trying something else.