Today, I reflect back almost one year to the day. Last summer, the world had tentatively opened up just enough that we were able to fly to a sister's house and celebrate the 4th with family. But there were still massive policies in place (that we are still seeing a full year later). Masks inside. Masks on planes. Masks in Ubers. Masks in restaurants. I hadn't really gone anywhere before this plane ride to need to wear a mask, so a friend made some for us for our trip. As much as we didn't want to bow to government oppression we put our masks on to board the plane. (And we kept them on the duration of the flight like good little citizens so we didn't get kicked off.)
When we got home, I noticed my tendency to get an asthma attack had increased. Before this flight, I had had maybe three in the past five years. Now I was having problems every couple of weeks! I seemed to have lost all my energy, and going up one flight of stairs had me winded and exhausted. I couldn't sing in church because it took too much effort. I went to bed earlier and slept later.
Around the end of September (so almost three months), I finally felt back to my old self...mostly. I could sing in church, go up stairs, etc like I used to be able to. So I prepared myself for life as normal. And then I gave blood at the beginning of October.
Now, I've given blood probably six or seven times throughout my life, anytime I weighed enough and passed the little tests. I have O- and believe it is my duty to share the love. On this particular day, the nurse took my blood pressure and for the first time in my entire life, it was low (probably a sign that I *hadn't* fully recovered from wearing the mask in July). But she said they really needed blood, and I'd probably be fine. Okay. I'm not a doctor, so I trusted her to know.
Ten minutes after leaving the bloodmobile, I passed out and got sick. The nurse said that happens sometimes (not to me though!!!), and my husband called the ambulance when he had a hard time reviving me. I knew a trip to the hospital would not end well, as they were still pretty strict on no visitors allowed. I knew in my brain-addled state, I needed Bill to advocate for me, and I didn't want to risk them baring him from my treatment decisions.
Everything I had been enduring since July came rushing back with a vengeance, and they brought friends. I now had balance issues--I could no longer dress myself or even walk down the hall to the bathroom by myself. The only days I could shower were when that is *all* I did for the entire day. It took that much energy. My hand began having spasticity issues. The nerve pain on my hand, arm, and leg intensified. I had to buy sunglasses because I couldn't handle the sun anymore. We got a wheelchair for days I had to do much walking. My headaches (that I had once every 4-6 weeks before) now plagued me daily.
In October, we called to make an appointment with a neurologist. That appointment was a consult by zoom that happened in February. She referred me for a CT scan that happened in March, then I met with my PCP and had an MRI in May. And now we wait for an EEG and neuropsych evaluation potentially in August.
If you've read this far (and plan to read my ramblings about my stroke, finding out about my AVM, and some of my musings on life with a brain injury), then thank you. You're probably my people. Or you're my mom. Which is still my people.
On this auspicious day of celebration, I praise the Lord for several things.
-the stroke, the mask, and giving blood didn't kill me
-many character traits have grown in my heart because of my brain injury
-I can relate to certain friends and family better because of my brain injury
-I know without a doubt that God holds my life in His hands, and nothing I do to try and prevent illness or death will stop His will
-a different hospital may be able to get me in for an appointment in August!
Prayer requests:
-everything to work out so I can for sure get that neurology appointment in August
-my focus to stay on God through all of this. Many times it's easy to look around at all my problems and forget that He is allowing me to walk on water (figuratively speaking, of course)