Reality Check (March 6th 2002)

Jan 31st 2010

Watching the sunset over the Dragoon Mountains

(...and me with NO make-up. awesome.)

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Okay, with all these long-lost-friends we are finding on facebook, many are asking for more stories and clarification about Ben's notorious stroke. I'll finally do a better job of "spilling-it" on the blog now, as promised last year.

*NOTE: The following is part of an on-going series of "Stroke Posts".

For an introduction to "Stroke Posts" click HERE.

For relative stories, click HERE.

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There was a time....

Before babies...

Before joint checking accounts...

Before the Honeymoon even BEGAN...

...When we were slapped in the face with a reality check.

I was a 24-year old Esthetics instructor,

Ben was a 28-year old Fire Science and Emergency Response student with one semester left until graduation.

We were married in January and decided to delay our Honeymoon until AFTER the Olympics were over, since our days back then were filled with work, Olympics, skating rehersals, more work, applying for work at various Fire Departments....aaaaand Olympics (did I already mention that?).

Ben enthusiastically asked me where I wanted to go for our first trip together.

I told him, "Surprise Me! No, really; Don't even tell me until we're getting on the plane."

That was the deal.

* * *

I called Ben during a break from my afternoon lecture on Langerhans Cells and the stratum spinosum layer of the epidermis.

It was two months after we were married in Vegas....

One week after the Olympics ended...

It was wednesday...

...and 2:15 in the afternoon.

During our chat, I heard a faint, "whoa" as Ben bent over to tie his shoes.

I almost changed the subject of the conversation.

I almost moved-on to telling him about my day,

but somehow a red flag sprang up in my thoughts and I had to pause.

"Are you okay?"

"Ya, I just bent over and I got a little dizzy. (pause) Hmm. My foot feels weird."

"What do you mean weird?"

"Oh, it's no big deal. I've been working out a lot lately and lifting quite a bit. I'm probably tired. I'm going to go walk out to the mailbox, so I'll talk to you later."

...and that was the end of it...

until about an hour later when there was another call for me....

"Do you know the name of a Chiropractor?"

"No. I've never been to one."

"Why don't you ask around for me? I think I have a pinched nerve. My foot isn't working very well now and it feels like I need to be adjusted or something."

"Sure, I'll ask around."

(But I never did.)

Ben tried to lay down on the livingroom floor of our little townhouse; hoping that the "pinched nerve" would find relief, but as he tried to sit up again, he couldn't. In fact, the entire left side of his body didn't work now. Pulling himself across the floor with his right arm, pushing with his right leg, and straining to lift himself up onto the couch he realized that he wasn't dealing with a pinched nerve.

First he called me.

It was 5pm and I was leaving work.

"Will you stop at Taco Bell on your way home and grab me a few tacos?"

...and of course, being the dutiful little wifey I did just that, eventhough there was a voice of concern in the back of my mind...

(I know better now.)

By the time I walked through the door, bag o' tacos in hand, I found Ben laying on the couch. He greeted me with a big smile, his (right) hand waving high in the air, and a cheerful, "Hi Sweetie!" I still remember the look on his face: He looked happy and calm for the most part, but there was a look. I'm not the clueless newlywed today that I was back then. NOW I know that he was scared.

I told him to call 9-1-1 (since he already had the phone) while I ran through the house, methodically packing a backpack for the hospital. You know, JUST IN CASE he had to spend the night.

I had no idea.

He ended up staying in the hospital for 4 months (including inpatient rehab).

About two weeks after the ambulance came and swept Ben away to the Emergency Room, I was sitting in the office and checking email one afternoon before traveling back to the hospital.

The phone rang.

"Hello, this is Michelle with Princess Cruises! I'm just calling to confirm your cruise to the Caribbean for April.....(blah, blah, blah)."

I don't remember what she said after that (because all I heard was "Caribbean" and "Cruise"). I thought about WALKING around sunny sandy beaches with my new husband. I thought about seeing the ocean from the deck of a gigantic gleaming white ship. I finally woke up again when there was a long moment of silence on the phone.

"I don't think we're going to be able to keep that reservation," I started. "Something has come up...."

"Got Yer Back!"

*NOTE: The following is a part of an on-going series of "Stroke Posts". For an introduction to "Stroke Posts" click HERE.

June: 2002
I had never before looked at a house and judged it's wheelchair accessibility.

But the day I was told by the Physical Therapist that Ben was going to have a "Day Pass" from In-patient Rehab I went straight back to our 1300 square foot townhouse and measured doorways, removed rugs, folded up bathroom floor mats, and added a handicap chair to the shower.

I had everything figured out before the Big Day....except the stairs.

Ben had been in the hospital (between the ICU, the 2nd floor East Wing, and Inpatient Rehab) for 3 months. When I wasn't working over-time, I was at the hospital until the middle of the night. I would then drive home (half asleep) and return early the next morning for a visit before work.

So the fact that my new husband was going to be able to leave the hospital for a few hours one beautiful Spring day (on my day off) gave me the motivation to figure out any obstacle.

The rules were clear: I had to get Ben home (no field trips), and let him rest in bed. We had to limit his activity still, so he didn't get too exhausted. Ben was already doing three-times more Physical Therapy sessions every day than the "typical" patient.

After pulling up to the garage door, I helped Ben into the house via wheelchair. Once we got in the house and to the stairs, he pulled himself up with the banister. His left side was still extremely limited, so he had to rely on pulling himself up with his right arm and leaning on me to support his left side.

I didn't realize until I was holding my 200-pound husband up (mid-stair) that I was not going to fit beside him on our tiny townhouse stairs. Worried I would slip and drop him if I got above him on the stairs, I stepped down a few and got behind him. For some reason, I thought that if he DID loose his strength and slip I was going to be able to catch him somehow.

I guess I thought I was Superwoman.

Sure enough, toward the top half of the stairway, Ben started to get shakey. "I just need to stop for a minute to rest," but he needed me to support him while he rested. "I think I'm going to fall!"

With my right hand on the banister (to support myself), and my left hand picking up and holding his foot on every step, I was out of hands. Thinking quickly as he started to teeter back and forth from fatigue, I held him up with the only thing I had left to offer: my head.

Ben's "Rear End" was at just the right height for me to push the top of my head firmly against his "cheeks" and give him just enough support to prevent a potentially BAD fall down the stairs.

(I wish I was making this up.)

Frozen on the stairs, we had to use every ounce of energy we had left to hold that position and NOT fall down in an exhausted heap from laughing so hard.

The physical ordeal of JUST coming into the house, climbing the stairs, and changing into some jammies was enough to send Ben into dreamland. He slept for most of that first trip home. I can say that coming down the stairs was much easier and eventhough we were only able to have a few hours away from that dreaded hospital, it was enough to give us hope that things were going to start getting better.

Or at least that (together) we would be able to handle whatever obstacles we would have to climb.

Stroke of Genius

"We write to taste life twice; Once in the moment and in retrospection."

~Anais Nin

It is according to Ben's request, questions from new friends and visitors, (and the fact that it's mentioned in the blog profile) that I write about Ben's stroke. I've been wanting to do this for a while (and even started working on it back in July). However, for some reason it has been much harder for me to blog about the stroke than my tumor and brain surgery. This has been weighing heavily on my mind.

"Why am I stumped? Why isn't it coming naturally? Why do I seem to have to force my writing on this subject?"

I couldn't figure it out until it hit me this morning, when I realized that the stroke has had a MUCH more lasting (ongoing) effect on our lives. My tumor was found, fixed with surgery, and is followed-up on regularly. I have to keep an eye on it, but for the most part I am able to move on without any lasting effect on my life or my marriage besides just some occasional issues and anxieties once in a while. I can look at pictures and say, "Wow...that was weird. I hope it leaves me alone now and never comes back again."

But it's a different story with the stroke. The stroke changed the course of our lives forever. The stroke is something we still deal with on a daily basis. It's a part of our conversations and regular thoughts. How can I blog SO many experiences, lessons, and explainations without writing an entire book about it?

And that's when I realized that I can't.

The best I can do is to "take little bites and chew well." Only then can I really express it in the way it should be expressed and with the effect I want it to have. I don't want to give the "Cliff Notes" version; I want you to understand it and experience it, and I want to record it so that WE won't forget the details either.

It would be disappointing if I did this any other way.

Which is why blogging about "Ben's Stroke" is going to be an on-going project. I'm going to write about particular events and experiences as they come to me. Some will be funny, some will be serious, and most will be out of sequence, but I hope that it will be interesting to read for everyone.

Who knows, by the time all is said and done, I just MIGHT have the equivalent of a book on my hands!

*For a quick reference, all "Stroke Posts" will be under the label "Ben's Stroke" (found to the right of this page).*