Is there anything worse than someone who is near-evangelical with health and lifestyle advice on the back of something which happened to them, then goes and completely ignores that advice?
Probably not. With my hard-nosed journalist's hat on, I could call it hypocritical. As the person involved is me, let's just call it stupid.
My stroke taught me many things, but key among them were the importance of eating properly, reducing stress, not rushing around trying to do a million things at once, resting properly - all the things I talk about regularly.
One day this week, I stupidly ignored all that advice and came dangerously close to collapsing (why do I hate that word?) while out walking the dog in Tamworth's Castle Grounds.
I should have known at lunchtime that something wasn't right. It took too long to write my blog (were the lounge of Warrillow Towers an old newspaper office, the floor would have been awash with torn-up sheets of copy paper....), so I was rushing to have lunch before my 2pm appointment with my counsellor.
Lunch was supposed to be a jacket potato with a decent filling, but in my haste, I misread the time and when I got it out of the oven, it was still half-cold. So I put it back in the oven for the required time, then ended up rushing to eat it and leave the kitchen in a decent state before going out.
Unsurprisingly, I then went and vented at my counsellor for an hour, getting out all my frustrations and barely giving her space to speak; it needed doing, but in hindsight, it was just getting me more wound up. I came home just in time to feed the dog and cat, grabbed ten minutes in front of the TV, then decided to take the dog for a walk. Is it any wonder that, as a fellow strokie put it this week about her own bad day, I felt light-headed and wobbly on my pins?
No, probably not.....
The dog and I have a regular route through Tamworth's idyllic Castle Grounds for our daily walks; he probably knows the way better than I do. About halfway through our walk, there is a bridge across the river; a left-turn takes us past the wonderful flower-beds by the Castle and through the Town Centre; a right-turn takes us home.
Normally, we turn left but I knew that if I didn't get home ASAP, I was likely to collapse (there's that word again) and leave the dog unattended. He has our address on his collar and could probably make his own way home without me from where we were, but I'd rather not let him try, thanks.
As we stood (sort of, in my case) waiting to cross the ridiculously busy road opposite Warrillow Towers, I knew I had to get home quickly, get some food and sit down before I blacked out. My legs were shaking, my head was woozy; this was worse than on that day in December 2013. On that occasion, I had no warning whatsoever about what was coming.
We just made it home as Mrs W was walking through the front door, having got home from the railway station. She sat me down, ordered me to have two large glasses of water and a couple of bananas and get some rest.
I barely got out of the chair for the rest of the evening and was in bed by 10pm. At my networking breakfast the following morning, plenty of people asked how I was 'after my wobble." I was OK, but I really could say I was glad to wake up breathing after what felt like a lot more than just a scare. It was proof that I should listen myself to the advice I give other people.
I've been conscious of that all week; I've eaten properly at breakfast and lunchtime, I've even gone to sleep in the afternoon to benefit from the restorative properties of the power-nap.
I've frightened myself this week. And I can assure you I won't be doing it again any time soon.
Wednesday 28 October 2015
Wednesday 21 October 2015
Getting back on the networking horse
Regular readers will know that I'm a keen business networker, mostly as a member of 4Networking. Among other things, it raises my profile and the profile of the work I do in stroke support and education. Having been on the leadership teams of local 4N groups for three years, I've had to rein in my networking to a fair degree over the last few months because of my health issues.
But I was asked this week if I would join a new team to run the group in Lichfield, Staffordshire. As I won't be leading the group itself, just helping to run meetings, drum up interest and take admission money (among other things), I've agreed. I get on well with the new group leader, Ben Birchall, who runs an HR consultancy called Progression, so I think the team will work nicely.
The new team starts at the meeting on Thursday October 29 and I will be doing a talk about my recent run to raise money for stroke-survivor charity Different Strokes. If you're a 4N member, it would be great to see you there. If you're not and you are a business owner yourself, why not come along and find out what 4N's all about (and hear me speak, of course!)? To find out more about how 4N works, go to the website at www.4networking.biz.
Aside from that, which I see as another important step in my post-stroke rehabilitation, it's been another busy, up-and-down, week. On the plus side, I've been talking to a fellow stroke-survivor about possibly liaising on an e-book while I'm grateful to a lady I know in America, whose husband is a strokie, for suggesting that I write and self-publish a short novel. Hopefully, both ideas will be under way shortly.
College on Monday evening was slightly brain-twisting (not a good idea for a strokie, lol) but very rewarding, while Tuesday's session with #breathebalancebeactivated Emily was definitely of the 'if it's not hurting, it's not working' variety.
On the down side of the week, I was again reminded several times just how life as a stroke-survivor makes the mundane things in life annoyingly difficult at times. It wasn't that cold at Tamworth FC's Lamb ground on Saturday afternoon for the National League North clash with Solihull Moors, but the fact that my blood-thinning tablets leave me constantly cold made the terraces feel like the North Pole, making it near-impossible to concentrate on the game. Memo to self: Time to ditch the denim hooded jacket in favour of the thick waterproof 'football manager' coat with the 27 pockets and the several layers of warming material......
Then, there was my seemingly un-ending battle with fatigue. On at least three occasions this week, I have had to give up on the day and go to sleep for a couple of hours at downright inconvenient times while on at least two others, failure to do so has left me feeling as washed-out as an old rag.
Indeed, Mrs W and I were out on Tuesday evening with fellow members of a stroke-support group we attend when the former NHS team leader who runs the group told Carmel: "He's too tired, get him home and straight to sleep." And when Dawn tells you something, you stay told, believe me.....
One of these weeks, I will get a handle on the fatigue which plagues all stroke-survivors and as I wrote here last week, threatens my working future. This week, however, wasn't it.
But I was asked this week if I would join a new team to run the group in Lichfield, Staffordshire. As I won't be leading the group itself, just helping to run meetings, drum up interest and take admission money (among other things), I've agreed. I get on well with the new group leader, Ben Birchall, who runs an HR consultancy called Progression, so I think the team will work nicely.
The new team starts at the meeting on Thursday October 29 and I will be doing a talk about my recent run to raise money for stroke-survivor charity Different Strokes. If you're a 4N member, it would be great to see you there. If you're not and you are a business owner yourself, why not come along and find out what 4N's all about (and hear me speak, of course!)? To find out more about how 4N works, go to the website at www.4networking.biz.
Aside from that, which I see as another important step in my post-stroke rehabilitation, it's been another busy, up-and-down, week. On the plus side, I've been talking to a fellow stroke-survivor about possibly liaising on an e-book while I'm grateful to a lady I know in America, whose husband is a strokie, for suggesting that I write and self-publish a short novel. Hopefully, both ideas will be under way shortly.
College on Monday evening was slightly brain-twisting (not a good idea for a strokie, lol) but very rewarding, while Tuesday's session with #breathebalancebeactivated Emily was definitely of the 'if it's not hurting, it's not working' variety.
On the down side of the week, I was again reminded several times just how life as a stroke-survivor makes the mundane things in life annoyingly difficult at times. It wasn't that cold at Tamworth FC's Lamb ground on Saturday afternoon for the National League North clash with Solihull Moors, but the fact that my blood-thinning tablets leave me constantly cold made the terraces feel like the North Pole, making it near-impossible to concentrate on the game. Memo to self: Time to ditch the denim hooded jacket in favour of the thick waterproof 'football manager' coat with the 27 pockets and the several layers of warming material......
Then, there was my seemingly un-ending battle with fatigue. On at least three occasions this week, I have had to give up on the day and go to sleep for a couple of hours at downright inconvenient times while on at least two others, failure to do so has left me feeling as washed-out as an old rag.
Indeed, Mrs W and I were out on Tuesday evening with fellow members of a stroke-support group we attend when the former NHS team leader who runs the group told Carmel: "He's too tired, get him home and straight to sleep." And when Dawn tells you something, you stay told, believe me.....
One of these weeks, I will get a handle on the fatigue which plagues all stroke-survivors and as I wrote here last week, threatens my working future. This week, however, wasn't it.
Wednesday 14 October 2015
Another week on the strokie roller-coaster
The first thing to say is that I haven't punched or sworn at anyone this week, which might come as a relief to anyone concerned about my welfare after last week's post.
That's not to say that the week has been easy; far from it. I saw my neuropsychologist last Thursday to get the results of the brain tests which were done last month. It's fair to say that they were a mixed bag.
In some areas, the results suggested that my brain has recovered to something like what it was pre-stroke. In others, there has been little or no progress. Some of this is probably due to post-stress fatigue and the catalogue of worries which come with post-stroke life, but some of it is obviously long-term harm.
Over the last 18 months, I've come to know a lot about the idea of neuroplasticity (strokies will understand, the rest of you can Google it, lol) and I would particularly recommend a book called 'The Brain That Changes Itself' by Norman Doidge. I was given it last year by a fellow strokie and found it useful in helping me to understand how the damaged brain finds new neural pathways (again, Google it) to replace those lost or damaged through traumatic injury.
This process takes years, of course. It helps those of us who are determined to be positive because it keeps us looking forward and seeing a half-full glass, but it can't acknowledge how difficult it is to deal with the day-to-day struggles of life while recovery continues.
For instance, those results have made me question where I am going on a long-term basis. Will I ever again be fit enough to work full-time (by which I mean a five-day 40-hour week)? If not, what does a future of part-time work look like at the age of 51? Is it more financially secure than where we are now? If not, what's Plan C? Or Plan D?
The neuropsychologist wants to see us again ASAP to discuss this further. I'm trying to be positive and, as always, just take each day as it comes. But I can understand why plenty of disabled people start to wonder how much more of this they can take. And I have only one thing to deal with - I know far too many who have rather more than one.
Let's lighten the mood, shall we? This week, I broke through the £1,000 barrier in terms of sponsorship received for my recent run in aid of stroke-survivor charity Different Strokes. You can still donate at uk.virginmoneygiving.com/MartinWarrillow. All the proceeds will go to helping DS (differentstrokes.co.uk) maintain the Facebook group which it runs and which has been an invaluable resource for me in terms of getting help, advice and most crucially, support in difficult times.
Given that I didn't have a target in mind when I first decided to do the run, I'm pleased and proud to have generated so much. Thanks to everyone who has sponsored and supported me; if I have helped to raise the profile of DS by one iota, all that pain was worth it.
Many of you will be aware that I have a long-term goal to qualify as a counsellor. For various reasons, my latest course got off to a shaky start but things really picked up this week and I promised a fellow student that I would give it a mention in this week's blog. For obvious reasons, I don't want to go too far but if any fellow students are reading this, they'll know who they are.
Finally, #breathebalancebeactivatedEmily suggested this week that I start to investigate having a proper presence on YouTube, talking about my situation. It's something I've never explored because I felt it was at the edge of my very limited technological ability. I should start now. As much advice as possible would be welcome. Just don't leave me as confused as I'm starting to feel about my financial future.
That's not to say that the week has been easy; far from it. I saw my neuropsychologist last Thursday to get the results of the brain tests which were done last month. It's fair to say that they were a mixed bag.
In some areas, the results suggested that my brain has recovered to something like what it was pre-stroke. In others, there has been little or no progress. Some of this is probably due to post-stress fatigue and the catalogue of worries which come with post-stroke life, but some of it is obviously long-term harm.
Over the last 18 months, I've come to know a lot about the idea of neuroplasticity (strokies will understand, the rest of you can Google it, lol) and I would particularly recommend a book called 'The Brain That Changes Itself' by Norman Doidge. I was given it last year by a fellow strokie and found it useful in helping me to understand how the damaged brain finds new neural pathways (again, Google it) to replace those lost or damaged through traumatic injury.
This process takes years, of course. It helps those of us who are determined to be positive because it keeps us looking forward and seeing a half-full glass, but it can't acknowledge how difficult it is to deal with the day-to-day struggles of life while recovery continues.
For instance, those results have made me question where I am going on a long-term basis. Will I ever again be fit enough to work full-time (by which I mean a five-day 40-hour week)? If not, what does a future of part-time work look like at the age of 51? Is it more financially secure than where we are now? If not, what's Plan C? Or Plan D?
The neuropsychologist wants to see us again ASAP to discuss this further. I'm trying to be positive and, as always, just take each day as it comes. But I can understand why plenty of disabled people start to wonder how much more of this they can take. And I have only one thing to deal with - I know far too many who have rather more than one.
Let's lighten the mood, shall we? This week, I broke through the £1,000 barrier in terms of sponsorship received for my recent run in aid of stroke-survivor charity Different Strokes. You can still donate at uk.virginmoneygiving.com/MartinWarrillow. All the proceeds will go to helping DS (differentstrokes.co.uk) maintain the Facebook group which it runs and which has been an invaluable resource for me in terms of getting help, advice and most crucially, support in difficult times.
Given that I didn't have a target in mind when I first decided to do the run, I'm pleased and proud to have generated so much. Thanks to everyone who has sponsored and supported me; if I have helped to raise the profile of DS by one iota, all that pain was worth it.
Many of you will be aware that I have a long-term goal to qualify as a counsellor. For various reasons, my latest course got off to a shaky start but things really picked up this week and I promised a fellow student that I would give it a mention in this week's blog. For obvious reasons, I don't want to go too far but if any fellow students are reading this, they'll know who they are.
Finally, #breathebalancebeactivatedEmily suggested this week that I start to investigate having a proper presence on YouTube, talking about my situation. It's something I've never explored because I felt it was at the edge of my very limited technological ability. I should start now. As much advice as possible would be welcome. Just don't leave me as confused as I'm starting to feel about my financial future.
Wednesday 7 October 2015
Pillow talk......no, not like that, lol.
I've remarked previously that I try my best to keep this blog as positive as possible: 'you don't come here to see me moan" and all that......
Unfortunately, this week, that's proving very tough to do. Admittedly, there have been good bits - the email from the Derby Telegraph at 1pm on Thursday, asking if I could go in at 1pm on Friday ("yes, of course"), the good connections made at 4Networking in Lichfield on Thursday morning, the continuing stream of donations for my charity run (go to uk.virginmoneygiving.com/MartinWarrillow, where I'm nearly up to £1,000) but they have been overwhelmed by incidents which have reminded me of the precarious nature of life as a stroke-survivor.
There was one on Saturday which I will mention but can't, for various reasons, expand on; there was the incident on Sunday afternoon when Mrs W had to order me out of our local branch of a well-known German discount supermarket before I got into a fight with someone; there have been the reminders that while I am unable to work, money will be a constant cause of resentment and argument at Warrillow Towers; there have been the "I'm more tired than you' arguments which all this naturally leads to; there have been the headaches, wobbly walking, fatigue, having to look at new ways of dealing with worry; there have been the fears that although I am back behind the wheel of a car, I could be just a step away from something going horribly wrong (the A5 at 9.30pm in a monsoon when the only traffic seems to be you and a host of foreign-driven 30-tonne articulated lorries is not fun); there have been the reminders that looking after my diet is more important than ever (like most, if not all, journalists, I am too used to eating on the hoof); there have been the "Why me" moments which all strokies have and which I usually tell people they should avoid; the frustrations of the useless British weather which leave me feeling more or less permanently cold and the blood-thinners I have to take which mean I bleed for England. All in all, it's not been my best week.
Thankfully, # breathebalancebeactivatedEmily got hold of me on Tuesday, told me I needed to get some of this anger and frustration out and we started doing some boxing moves. It certainly helped (at least until Emmerdale came on the TV at Warrillow Towers last night, lol) and it's something I'm keen to pursue. She's suggested I find a handy pillow to beat the **** out of when I'm feeling like I have this week.
Certainly sounds better than beating it out of fellow shoppers, doesn't it?
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