Sunday Stroke Survival: Snatching Victory from Defeat

When it comes to failures living post stroke, there are many. I fail to accomplish tasks all the time even after six years of living post stroke. There's not a day that goes by when I don't fail at doing  something I try to do. In part because I challenge myself each day to regain some ability or other. Zig Ziglar said...

"If you learn from defeat, you haven't really lost."

 I was first exposed to Zig in my marketing classes at college. He specializes in the area of personal development training. He also said...

You don't have to be great at something to start, but you have to start to be great at something.

Even before I was a stroke survivor, old Zig confirmed what I'd always believed.  I often refer to this here as snatching victory from defeat, and how do you know you can't do something unless you try. You are never truly defeated unless you give up.

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Yes, it's very frustrating challenging yourself with a new or different challenge each day.  I usually start my day, after prayers, with something I relearned to do well. It bolsters my ego for the trial to come. Plus it reinforces the relearned skill. Whether it's beating the computer at a game of Canasta or baking bread. It's a tactile operation that puts my mind and body unto motion for the day's new challenge. 

For several months now, it's dealing  with painful spasticity and walking. Now,  I'm more apt to fall which I'm back to doing at least once a day. All it takes is an invisible piece of lint on the floor and I go boom. It feels like the early days of walking after my stroke. The 30 degree inversion of my affected foot in spite of my AFO might have something to do with this also. But I don't quit. I pick myself up and keep going. 

There's no denying that I'm finding it more difficult to get up these days too. So much so that I asked my neurologist for an MRI to see if I'd had another stroke. But, I've been there and done that already. And yes, I did.  It's just means working hard again to regain what I recovered back. My 3 cm ischemic/hemorrhagic stroke damage area has grown to 6 cm. Another set back...what's new. We figured that was partially to blame for me being on the pity pot so long too. It skewed my attitude, but it's getting back to more my normal every day. My right side is weaker again except for the spasticity. The spasticity only increased with the new brain insult.
Just my luck.

I did get my dry needling and stretching this week. The pain is more tolerable now. She actually had to needle  the base of my skull, neck, and trapezius muscles  because they were so strained from compensating for the spasticity in my arm. Just try carrying a 7 lb weight around 24/7 and see if it doesn't affect all your other muscles also.


Oh, my neurologist calling Emory worked! My appointment with the neurosurgeon is September 13th. I'm doing the Snoopy dance of happiness since they called.

The waiting is over almost. Granted, this is only the first meet and greet with the physiatrist who will do the trial for the Baclofen pump, but it's a start of the action plan the functional neurosurgeon laid out in my initial visit with him back in May. If the trial is successful the pump placement can be scheduled within a month. It's been a long time coming.

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Survivor's Lament

If there's one lament about living post stroke that I hear the most it's "I just can't do nothing since my stroke!"

Be it a stroke or any life altering event. The first thing everyone faced with it, their first inclination is to say this and throw up their hands in frustration. True? True. It's probably one of those human nature things that I was graced to be standing behind the door when it was passed out.

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Yes, I'm blessed to have been standing behind the door on a lot of human nature things that plague so many. By the same token, I was probably jumping up and down waving wildly when it came to impatience and stubbornness. "Pick me. Oh, please pick me. I gotta have those! Give me a double helping!" I can see God in heaven shaking His head and going she's going to a handful. He wasn't wrong. <grinning> But He also blessed me with creativity, logic, problem solving, and a healthy dose of common sense too to balance the equation. Is it any wonder I call myself the queen of Abby Normal? By sheer nature, I'm a contradiction in terms. But, I digress (once again *sigh*) from today's topic.

I always say, "Your attitude needs adjusting." Instead of "Get your head out of your backside," or " get off the self pity pot because someone else needs a turn." But that's basically what I mean. You've heard of the fifteen minutes of fame? I propose you apply the same approach to frustration and self pity. Okay, maybe thirty minutes. Your attitude is about the only thing you have control of after a stroke. Unless you have PBA like me from my stroke, but that's another thing entirely.

Basically what I'm saying is your focus it twisted. Unless you really want to feel worthless, down trodden, and alone. Does anyone really WANT to feel this way? I know. I know. We all know someone it seems to want to live like this, but I'm assuming you are not them because you are reading this. Take stock of what you can do.

Maybe you lost a lot with your stroke(s). I know I did. The laundry list of what I've lost, maybe forever, is huge. The inability to hold a job is the biggest for me because I loved my ministry and writing life. It takes a strong will to look at this list and  say I give up, but I don't. My first winter, after my stroke, without knitting or spinning wool, was devastating to me. I'd only spent over thirty years doing it. The first Spring without a productive 1/4 acre garden was just as bad. Did I wallow in self pity? Honestly, I did a little, but I was also researching how to do these things I loved with my new impairments. Just the act of researching helped me off the ledge. It was doing something rather than giving in to my plight. (Remember the stubborn trait) By the next Spring, I had knitted little Easter bunnies for each of my grandchildren. By the year after, it was knitting elegant shawls for my family. Now, almost 6 years later, I'm spinning and knitting one handed all winter long again.

I'm gardening too. Adaptive gardening techniques was also something I researched. I may not produce as much as I once did, but God's wisdom and grace has given me a smaller core family to provide for.

The list of pros and cons are still skewed because I'm living post stroke. But I truly believe in the "Nothing ventured. Nothing gained." saying. Just like before my strokes, the sky is the limit for what I can achieve or learn to do again. If I truly want to do something, I'll figure out a way to do it. Sometimes, the attempts are thumbs up, thumbs down, or thumbs neutral, but that doesn't stop me. I weigh the importance of my success against time, frustration, ability to repeat the process, and a long list of other things just like all the "norms" out there.

So when hit with the survivor's lament of "I can't do nothing" buck up. There's a lot of things you still can do, if try and adapt. Don't sell yourself  short. Take stock and figure out how you can.  You can do it. I have faith in you. All it takes is the first baby step of wanting to do it. I say baby step but for some folks it's a huge one. It's taken over a year of talking about knitting one handed for a lady in my group to say, "Teach me." That's okay. She's doing it.

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Snatching Defeat from the Jaws of Victory

I know. I know. I got the title backwards, didn't I? But after a stroke and living post stroke for more than five years, it sure feels like it. I hear you all now. "Whoa! This doesn't sound like the Jo we usually read." But just hold on a minute. You know that's fixing to change. Or at least you hope, right? Or you are sighing and saying, "Jo's on the pity pot again."

I'm in this weird mood, so be forewarned. I can get very retrospective at times like this. What's the reason behind this mood, you may wonder. I've been people watching again...mostly Mel.

What we thought was a sprained wrist turned out to be a broken one. Her dominant right wrist. I've been watching how she is handling it. She's never had a serious illness, broken bone, stitches, or anything medically wrong with her in all her life. That's almost sixty years folks. Other than depression, she's led a charmed life until one night she tripped over her TV tray. As she puts it, "I couldn't break my wrist by doing something cool. I had to do it by doing something stupid."

But really, isn't that always the way?

So I've been doing a comparison between how we each handle the one handed life. We are kindred spirits and alike in attitude. So it's been interesting. Nothing shows true attitude like how you handle adversity. Of course unlike me, she has use of her fingers and can pull the splint off. She does this more than she should. Especially in times of frustration until pain causes her to put the splint back on. She's a grown woman, I should only advise her once on what to do. After that, it's her choice. So I've been watching her for the past couple weeks.

At first, I listened to her moan and groan about typing one-handed. She's writing a dystopian novel. Yes, I understand that particular hardship. As the picture suggests, Mel a charter member. This where we differ. Instead of first trying to figure out how to do something, she'll gripe about it first. I order to nip it in the bud now, I hold up my right arm and say, "Hello!!!??" There isn't anything she can say that I haven't said a million times over the past five years. She'll be in the splint for two to four more weeks. It couldn't have happened at the worst possible time. We're busiest on the homestead this time of year. But it has been and interesting observation.

It's not that I don't empathize and sympathize about her struggles. I can and do. But I listened to this for a couple of weeks of how she couldn't do anything, before I started with tough love. She had to get up and do. Between us we have two working hands. Granted they are both our left hands, but still. Two crafty women, like we are, should figure out how we can get things done.

Sort of like this

Our current project is the new rabbitry and chicken areas. These two areas are built with pallets and cattle panels. The biggest and hardest part is digging the holes for the post supports. She gets on one handle and I do the other one. Having hard, compacted clay to dig in isn't making this a quick process. We are managing two holes a day but we are getting it done. We had one 24' wall complete before I left for home. That's a major accomplishment. Now we have to do the other side. Mel figured out she could push the handles open without causing pain so she planted some 4x4x4s while I was gone. All it took was me giving her a kick in the pants to get her started.

Before I left for home we were watching Netflixs and doing assorted tasks. I am knitting baby bunny rattles for the local crisis pregnancy center and Mel was rolling cigarettes. Yeah, I know. I know. But I pick my battles. The pain of using her fingers got to her and she was messing up the cigarettes. She shaking her head, tears rolling down her cheek and she was whispering, "I can't. I can't do it."

Ouchie!

I looked over at her and told her to clean up her mess and stop for the night. We'd had a full day of animal care, one of our buck Angoras toenail ripped open one of his testicles. We had to do minor surgery. Her holding him and me doing the cutting and closing to neuter him. Three drops of morphine had him totally sedated while we worked. Well, he'll be a good wool producer, but not a breeder. We switched off doing therapy exercises on the other buck, Dustin. We had dug two holes and placed four panels for the rabbitry. We had dinner and cleaned up afterwards. We were both exhausted. I told her...
  We can only do what we can to the best of our ability and no more. As much as we'd like to do more or do better, that's the honest truth. You can only strive to do better. Never when too tired or frustrated. When those two factors are in play, you will only fail. So take it easier on yourself.

So are you feeling like defeat is being snatched from the jaws of victory? Maybe, it's your point of view. A defeatist starts a sentence with 'I can't.' A moderate starts a sentence with 'I'll try. An achiever starts a sentence with 'Watch me.' Sure first attempts and maybe the first ten times you'll fail at the attempt. Eventually, you will snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.

Nothing is impossible.