Sunday Stroke Survival: The Pity Pot

Are you on the self-pity pot again?! I'm on again and off again these days. It seems that nothing is going my way again. I kick myself from time to time about my first stroke. Especially when I read statistics like 80% of all ischemic strokes are preventable.

Did I really do this to myself? Why did I play Russian Roulette with my way of life? Didn't I know that my combined family history was slap full with other relatives with this catastrophic condition? Didn't I know the risk factors like obesity, high blood pressure, diabetes, and smoking? Yes, I sure did. So why am I kicking myself six years later? I asked for it, didn't I? I sure wasn't living the 20%.

Hindsight is 20/20. I can really do a number on myself when I get in this kind of mood. So why am I sitting on the pity pot. I got what I deserved, didn't I? But even people who don't have these risk factors have strokes. There is only so much medicine can do after the fact and every day that passes the odds of recovery slips a little farther away.

Normally, I can get outside and do something, but it's really rainy and wet right now. Too wet to do anything even in the breaks between hard showers. We are going on the third day of rain here which makes matters worse. I've already completed 99% of the busy work that needs done so my brain slips into the doldrums. I used to write away on rainy days. That ability is gone. That's my problem, a too active brain. Without activities to keep me occupied, my thoughts turn inward. My favorite/most hated boredom pastime is kicking myself when I'm down. Nobody does it better than I can. Isn't that true for most of us? Living post stroke is so much fun, isn't it? Everyone needs extra challenges in their lives. Let's have some real fun and have a stroke, or two, or if you are a real overachiever like me...three.

Depressed yet? Me too.

Snap out of it, Jo! Your readers want solutions, up beat blogs, and inspiration.

Okay, what can I say here. Hm, zero, zip, zilch is coming to me. I'm thinking harder. The rain is good for the garden. It has rained in a week, and you did say it needed to rain instead of having to water it all. No? Hmm, thinking harder. You could talk about how much your back ached picking 10 lbs of bush green beans this week and how you should have planted them in an elevated raised bed to make it easier. No, readers are tired of reading about the garden. Hmmm, thinking of another subject. How delicious your Cherokee tomatoes were that you sliced for dinner the other night. No, that's more gardening stuff. Something about surviving and living post stroke.

Nope. Nothing comes to mind. Well, I tried. Sorry y'all. The weather report shows these showers moving off tomorrow. Thank God! Nothing like getting out into sunshine to get off the pity pot for me. In the mean time, I'm going to get up and do the 1% I haven''t done yet... put clean sheets on my bed, and put on some music and dance with the vacuum cleaner a bit. If nothing else, I'll start tomorrow with a clean slate.

Nothing is impossible.

 

Sunday Stroke Survival: AFO Woes, Weather, and Other Stuff

As you can guess, I was hard pressed to talk about one thing this week. So much and so little has been accomplished.

The garden has been planted. All that's left to do is busy work like weeding until harvest time. But I can't because of the rain. I do get out to pick dandelions, clover, strawberry and black berry leaves, and grasses for the rabbits. I'm picking grass seed heads for the corralled hens too. This takes me about an hour each day. That's including feeding and loving on them.

My AFO still isn't right. I'd gotten up to three hours a day wearing time in the new new AFO. It still rubs my ankle bone. It can be down right painful too. If I just sat around all day this wouldn't be a problem. But I have a fairly active lifestyle. I'll burn up 6,000  steps in a few hours between the animals and the garden. On sunny days, I'll round off 10,000 steps by including the orchard. But I haven't been doing that lately. I'll be up on my feet for an hour in the new new AFO and then spend the next  30 minutes on the porch swing to rest my foot and ankle.

At around 2:30 of the three-hour mark finds me on the swing watching the spinners and the hummingbirds because it's too painful to stand up. The wind spinners were a birthday gift from a YouTube viewer who made them from soda cans. I just love them. I set my phone alarm for the three-hour mark. I usually am counting the minutes until I an swap out AFOs. But that's not really helpful because the old AFO is the device that caused my foot fractures. Even with the adjustments, that old knife stabbing pains return after a few short hours. So I'm stuck sitting more than I'd like.

Even with the extra padding in the new new AFO, it still isn't right. It still causes pain, but my foot alignment is correct. In talking to Hanger, at yet another appointment, my foot is so far out of whack that any correction will cause pain. So we are at an impasse. Do I give up alignment and a normal gait, or do I go back with to the poor posture, limping gait of the old style AFO? I'm hoping the intrathecal baclofen trial works on the leg spasticity. Eventually, I may just get rid of this AFO.  I'm still waiting for that appointment.


The weather has been, in a word, wet. It has rained every day for three weeks. There is only about a two-hour window each day that it isn't raining fairly hard. I said I'd never complain about the rain again after the drought of 2016, but I'm close. I guess it's a God's blessing kind of thing because I can't be up and doing outside. I'm glad I opted for building double width rows of raised beds in the in-ground plantings. At least the water has somewhere to go instead of drowning my seeds. Building these rows with a shovel and a rake was no easy job for one-handed me, but each 5' long row was accomplished. I could make two rows a day until all six were made. I'm glad I took the time. Gone are the days that I did six 30' rows a day... ten years ago. I'm thankful for this little garden plot instead of the old 1/4 acre garden. It's official. This was the wettest May in the history of this area.

I do have to say that living post stroke has been anything but boring. Every day there is something happening. Whether I fall, sometimes several times a day, or just preparing dinner are adventures. Attempting to make do single handed and not using my dominant hand to boot is challenging. I've finally quit trying to do trying to do something with my right hand first. It's only taken six years.  Not that I don't use my right arm and hand, but they now play a supporting role instead of a first response reactor.

The difference between learning and relearning

Living post stroke is a learning curve every single day as you try to regain your old life. Everything I try to do is part of this curve unless I've conquered it prior and have repeated it a dozen times or more. But isn't that true even if you haven't had a stroke? Yes, but living post stroke is relearning how to do it with impairments. Trying something absolutely new can be daunting post stroke. But it's a break from relearning. Sometimes, the frustration of learning something new is better than the frustration you get from relearning how to do something. I'm always on the lookout for these gems. Pinterest is a great place to see new crafty things I might want to try. I'm the type of person that sees something she likes and tries to make it. This year I tried spinning plarn to knit market bags. In the garden, I'm always trying a new plant or two each season. This year, it's tomatiloes. You never know what you can grow well until you try. In some small way, it makes me feel "normal" because everyone gets frustrated trying something new.

I've temporarily stopped working on the cookbook. I'm just too busy with the rabbits, garden, and orchard. I'll pick up working on it in the late fall after I put the garden to bed for the year. Next year's garden will be changing. Garlic and onions will be planted around the apple trees in succession planting because they'll keep pests away. I'll be planting leeks seeds in the fall as a first time crop to overwinter in the garden. Napa cabbages will be in the fall garden so all the ingredients for kim chi will come from my garden. Wohoo!

Nothing is impossible.

Sunday Stroke Survival: Rain, Rain Go Away!

It's been raining here on the homestead for three weeks. I was thinking about building an ark. No, not really.  Living on the side of one of the foothills in north Georgia helps. It all runs down to the creek which is a 100 feet below us. But all this weather has stopped forward progress on the building/repairs we had planned on the homestead. Not that it's rained or stormed every day, but close.

We had a delay in the delivery of the new chicken /rabbit shed. So the chicks are still free ranging. We've had a delay in the regrading and installation of the new driveway. Nobody wants to slide in the slick clay including me. No electrician wants to play with rewiring the outside power box in the rain. If they did I'd be concerned. It would do no good to trench the replacement water lines, it would be filled in almost as soon as it was trenched. So we sit and wait for it all to be done.

Meanwhile, the wet weather has played havoc with my life. The cooler damp weather causes my spasticity to be worse. Does this happen with anyone else? Even with the Botox, muscle relaxers, and the dry needling. My arm draws up in a tight set of muscles and dares me to try and straighten it. When I try it cramps into a charlie horse. My leg is just as bad. I have to put my AFO and socks on first thing in the morning. I can't take it off until bed time or I won't be able to put it on again. Imagine trying to relax or nap with this thing on.

My shoulder on my affected side is painful upon movement. I think I've developed osteoarthritis due to the ACL tear and the rotator cuff injuries a year to five years ago. Fun fun. It just adds to my misery. I really don't mean to complain. It would help to know I'm not the only one out there with this going on. I still have animals to care for and a life to live even though it's raining.

Walking in mud and rain is never any fun in living post stroke. First of all, I'm walking with a cane. Even more so when it's rainy and slick. I've just had too many falls to walk around in the rain without it. I may be stubborn, but I'm not stupid. The soles of my shoes may be thick rubber (not really but you know what I mean) with deep treads for better traction, but that won't keep me from sliding. Well, they do to a point. But clog those nice treads with mud and all bets are off. Walk into a store with those high gloss tiles and BOOM. I'll fall in a heart beat without my cane.

This poses an interesting dilemma. I can't move my arm to put on a jacket. I can't use an umbrella because my only working hand is full of a cane...so what do you do? My daddy always told me that I didn't need to worry about getting wet "because poop floats." Yes, he was just being ugly in the comparison. He really didn't mean it I'm sure.

So all my life I've rarely worn rain gear. I would get wet, but I would dry. It's like saying " a little rain won't hurt you." But before, I could at least run to get out of the rain.  Not now. So I get soaked. I'll dry. But then again, I walk from the car into an air conditioned store. BRRR! A rain soaked sock under my AFO is very uncomfortable. It rubs and cuts even with the extra padding the brace maker put in. Then there is the clean up afterwards. Wiping the whole AFO in alcohol after drying it. Having my insurance only pay for one pair of specialty shoes a year doesn't help. I'm off my feet until all of it dries. No sense in putting on a dry sock and AFO if the shoe is soaked inside and out. But I'm tired of getting soaked!

I know Rebecca Dutton mentioned in her blog a couple of years ago about a strap up gollashes, but I can't find it now. So Rebecca ...help! At the time, I filed it away under "that would be nice, but not really necessary." This past month has proved the necessity to me.

I'm also looking into purchasing a rain slick that I won't have to put my arm into the sleeve, but can fasten one handed over the top of my affected arm. It may just mean getting one a size or two larger. The fasten easily one handed is the imperative. A zipper wouldn't be bad but joining the two sides into the zipper would be maddening. I would be exhausted by the time I finally got it fastened and zipped up to do anything else.

I know, Murphy's Law, that by the time I get all this new gear the rains will probably stop. But it won't truly stop. Even with last year's drought, it's has still been a very wet spring. I'll just be prepared. For as my mama used to say, "there will always be an again."

So that's it for this week. Remember...

Nothing is impossible.

 

Thursday's Tumbles and Stumbles ~ The Wet Pine Straw Incident

Last Sunday you read about my hospice dilemma. So you know I've been taking my own
trash out and then wheeling it to the road. It does sound like much, but I want you to consider my home sits in the middle of an acre of land so the driveway leading to the road is more than a couple of feet. It's more like 200+ feet from my garage to the road. From my front door to the trash cans is sixteen feet.

It being winter in southeastern Georgia, we don't have snow, but we get rain. Of course, the pine trees are doing their part by dumping loads of pine straw as wide as they are tall. When pine straw gets wet, it's slick so I always take extra care when walking on it. It's almost as bad as walking on salted ice. Slippery with a little bit of traction...just to put it in perspective for you yankees. (grinning)

Now imagine little, ol' me pushing a dumpster almost fully loaded (under 50 lbs) down a long driveway covered in wet pine straw. Not one but two of them (one regular trash and one recycle bin). The bins aren't small and the handle comes just below my chest. The wheels catch on every pine cone and twist the can throwing my balance off, because I'm using the trashcan to balance me rather than my cane.

I'll stop and get my balance back before I go forward again. Another foot achieved, and then *bump* another pine cone. This one was flattened by my car wheels. Except this time the wheels of the bin hit an open spot of pavement and kept rolling. Forward went the trash bin and so did I before I could catch my balance. I'm stepping and shuffling like mad to keep from falling.

I was mentally patting myself on the back when it happened again. This time I was not so lucky. This time the trash can was tilted back so the wheels would roll and it kept on leaning and carried me with it. My feet sought traction on the wet pile of pine straw beneath my feet and found none. I went down to the driveway in a half split. The trash can conveniently landing on one of my outstretched legs. You guessed it. It was my leg clad in my AFO and my functioning leg up underneath me. It was a sight worthy of a Kodak moment.

There I sat on a pile of wet pine straw. Rain water soaking through my pants in 36 degree weather. I wanted to cry. Not from being hurt but in frustration. I rocked and pulled my functioning leg out from under me, and then proceeded to kick the living tar out of the trash bin to get my other leg free. The kicking definitely eased my frustration, but it also used needed energy stores.

I stretched both legs out in front of me while I regained my composure and compiled the energy it would take to flip my fat behind over doggy style so I could stand up. The cold was quickly eating up my reserves. I used my feet to clear an area of pine straw before trying to stand or I'd never get up.

I was standing. Wohoo! Upright again! I flexed my skinned knees and hands while I glared at the trash bin. I was tempted to leave it where it lay. I kicked it again for good measure and said some not nice words to it. Finally, common sense won out. I couldn't leave it in the middle of my driveway and it wouldn't be emptied unless it was by the curb. I picked it up one handed by bracing it with my knee. Sure it threatened to open up and dump it's load, but my will was stronger.


I pushed it the last eighty feet to the curb. Saying a few choice words to recycle bin, I pushed it to the curb without incident. Hobbling into the house to tend to my wounds, my hubby calls to me. "You forgot to empty my trashcan."

"I'll get it for next week's haul," I answered as I made my way into the bathroom. I know he didn't hear me because I was in the hallway when I said it. All I wanted was to get the scrapes cleaned and put on some dry britches. Everything else could wait.

So that's the story of the pine straw incident. How have your tumbles and stumbles been this week?