Sunday Stroke Survival: Dealing with Change

I've spent several blogs talking about adjusting to change recently. This is yet another one. I'm not sure why. Maybe, because I'm facing new changes (or soon will be) in my life again. This one by choice for my quality of life.

Has your world changed forever with one event? Living post stroke is like that (enter whatever life changing event that you are facing here).

Everyone resists change. Nobody likes change of their status quo. These are facts of life and yet we have to change. It's part of the cycle of life. We don't grow without change. We don't achieve anything without it. It's an upheaval of the norm and the norm equals comfort.

Some changes are good like getting an education, graduating, getting married, having children, getting your dream job, and other momentous occasions. Doors are opening to a new, exciting life. Other changes like divorce, deaths, losing your livelihood, or serious illness aren't so exciting of a prospect. Doors are closing and you have no choice but to adapt and change. The old ways are gone and you have to travel in a new unfamiliar path. These are the changes no one likes.

Let's face it. These types of changes are scary. The path is dark, gloomy, and there is no discernible light at the end of the tunnel. Having a stroke, dealing with the death of a loved one, or losing one's livelihood is like that. I know because I've experienced all of these in the past decade. Having a plan in place helps, but within these plans there are a microcosm of changes that happen, or things don't go as planned. Uncertainty, rattles you to the core. It's a very uncomfortable situation to be in.

"The secret of change is to focus all of your energy, not on fighting the old, but on building the new."
  ~ Socrates

So when I was facing a life of living post stroke, it took a short while to accept that this is what it is. I divided my time evenly between regain use through recovery and trying to do with disabilities or limitations. I strongly dislike would of/should of/ could of scenarios. I like a set of actions and variables if this/then that or that because rarely does anything go as planned, but after a stroke all bets are off. I've rebuilt my life on my new reality several times in my life. It's never fun. It's been a "Well I can't do that anymore. What do I want to be when I grow up this time?" It's my sort of fall back and punt position when life changes for me.

A short story to illustrate my point. I often feel like the poor rat in this story, but I don't die. I'm left with having to make changes to my reality.

Last evening, there was a small rat was caught by the nonpoisonous snake living under our washer the washer and dryer. He probably crawled in there a lot smaller and grew up. Now he's basically trapped under there unless we move everything and let him out. He's had a steady diet of wayward rats for over a year now. He's quite content living this way. He stays warm and fairly well fed between the rats in the disused furnace and the water heater closet.

But this night was different. The rat got away. He ran from the snake squeaking loud which alerted Herbie, the dog, our small rodent catcher. The rat raced from under the dryer straight into Herbie's jaws. A quick couple of chomps and the rat was dead.

Are you too deep in your situation that you go from bad to worse like this poor rat? For a few days after my stroke I was. It was just shell shock. I clawed my way out of it and started planning my life from here on out. I realized there would be major changes that had to be made. In a way, a certain loss of identity needed to be compensated for. But the areas that I cared strongly for was still in tact. I was still the loving wife of a dying spouse. I was still a mother to my grown children even though for a short time (6 months) I was dependent on them while I got my bearing in my new life. I was still the loving Grandma! That didn't change even though my hugs were one sided. They were just as full of love. Even though my aphasia wouldn't let me say the words, I could still listen to them. None of that changed with my stroke and I was fine. Everything else required work to regain it or change in directions.

An example. Spinning fiber into yarn and using the yarn to make various things has been a winter pastime for me for decades. I wanted it back. I spent many a frustrating hour attempting to do it one-handed. Eventually, two years later, I regained the ability. Some old way things are worth the effort. It's not easy as doing it two-handed and a lot slower and deliberate. It's not the mindless, relaxing activity as the old ways. Now, I have to have the right mind set, plan my actions, and focus to spin. But then, I realize I'm just going through the stages as I did when I first learned to spin. I'm hoping one day that spinning one-handed will be relaxing and mindless activity again. Until then, I'm content. A lot can be said for contentment when dealing with change.

In cooking, another love to do activity, I can pretty much do what I did before with the help of gadgets. It still irks me a bit to have to depend on them, but I'm getting the job done. After six years of fumbling attempts, I can do the basics now without conscious thought. I still can't frost a cake or do the intricate detail work as I once did, but when dealing with life altering changes beggars can't be choosers. I still prepare two meals a day here every day. I even can and preserve our food for a year.

This is my new T-shirt. Like it?

Life is never stagnant. It is constantly evolving whether we like it or not. It's time to put on our big girl panties and deal with it.

What was the old way becomes the new way until it becomes old again.

Nothing is impossible.