Stroke affects people in so many different ways. In some cases, the physical effects can be almost invisible; you could look at The Warrior, for instance and think that there is nothing whatsoever wrong, except for the fact that my walking is a little bit more shaky than before my stroke (and it wasn't great then....)
Yet some people are left paralysed or in wheelchairs for life. It all depends on the severity of the stroke and which part of the brain is affected, of course. I know stroke-survivors who seem perfectly healthy to look at, but have had half their skull replaced by a titanium plate. Yet I know survivors who still need electrical stimulation to make their arms or legs move, more than a decade after their stroke. I know survivors who have lost 60% of their vision and survivors who find it almost impossible to read, because their brains cannot cope with putting the words in the right order. Or, as one person put it on a website I use: "Thankfully, there was minimal lasting physical damage, but the exhaustion, pain and effect on my mind has been profound."
This thought was brought home to me this week when I attended a workshop at Stroke Association House in London. The workshop was about how survivors can play a bigger part in research into the psychological effects of stroke. It was a very worthwhile, if slightly exhausting, day (The Warrior doesn't normally do 5.45am alarm calls). Apart from three medical professionals who work for the Association, the twenty-plus people in attendance were all strokies or carers. The survivors had all suffered their stroke at various different times of life (one while in the womb) and been left with vastly different degrees or types of disability.
This is why I think research into stroke and into the workings of the brain is so important. We know about some of the risk factors and I talk about them at length in my talks and my writings, but the brain is such a complex piece of kit that much more research needs to be done.
I know a great deal more about it than I ever did before December 16 2013, but I have found that my interest in knowing more has grown rapidly. Hence, I want to recommend a six-part series which began on BBC4 on Thursday January 21 (9pm). The first episode can be seen on the iPlayer and I'd recommend that anyone who wants to know more about the brain starts to follow it.
Like most BBC4 documentaries, you do have to concentrate (it's not something to be half-watched while doing the washing-up) but I found the first episode thoroughly worthwhile.
If you want to know more about how the brain works and why and how it occasionally goes wrong (maybe it's my inquisitive journalistic mind, but having mine go wrong did make me want to find out more) I'd thoroughly recommend it.
Wednesday 27 January 2016
Wednesday 20 January 2016
Act fast - you could help to save someone's life
What would you do if you saw someone in the street and you thought they were having a stroke? Do you know the signs to look for? Do you know that time is of the essence if the extent of the damage caused to the brain is to be limited?
Those were three subjects that came up during the question-and-answer session after the talk I gave yesterday to a business networking group about my stroke-survivor story and the nude sponsored run I undertook last September.
I was able to look back at my own experience and think that in those vital first few minutes, I was treated in textbook fashion. As I struggled to get off the road where I had collapsed and tried to cling on to a lamppost with my one working hand, I was lucky enough to be spotted by someone I knew from my business networking activities. As it happened, I had been on my way to the shop she owns when I collapsed.
As I recall it, this lady and a colleague dragged me through the doorway of the shop, sat me down and instantly rang 999. A paramedic was on the scene within a few minutes and he was able to do the necessary tests. Had my face drooped on one side? No, thankfully. Could I lift my arms above my head and keep them there? No. That's a bad sign. Was my speech slurred or garbled? Slightly more than normal, lol. Another bad sign.
Two out of three was bad so the paramedic rang instantly for an ambulance. That arrived just minutes later and I'm told that the resulting traffic jam of two ambulances in the street where most of Tamworth's buses stop was so severe that it made that week's edition of the local paper.
The ambulance men carried out some more tests which I don't remember, before lifting me on to a stretcher, rapidly pushing me into the back of their vehicle and blue-lighting me to the local hospital. If you observe the speed limits, that journey takes about 15 minutes. I remember that we did it in eight.
The speed of the whole process was remarkable. Within an hour of collapsing, I was in a hospital bed. Yet I know stroke-survivors who had completely the opposite experience. Where members of the public didn't know what to do, didn't call an ambulance, didn't recognise the signs. There is no doubt that those people had their recovery set back as a result.
So remember the signs. F=Face; A=Arms; S=Speech; T=Time. If you do find yourself in the position of my networking friend, make sure you know the signs to look for and get a paramedic on the scene as soon as possible. You could help to save someone's life. I am convinced that lady's prompt action helped to save mine.
Those were three subjects that came up during the question-and-answer session after the talk I gave yesterday to a business networking group about my stroke-survivor story and the nude sponsored run I undertook last September.
I was able to look back at my own experience and think that in those vital first few minutes, I was treated in textbook fashion. As I struggled to get off the road where I had collapsed and tried to cling on to a lamppost with my one working hand, I was lucky enough to be spotted by someone I knew from my business networking activities. As it happened, I had been on my way to the shop she owns when I collapsed.
As I recall it, this lady and a colleague dragged me through the doorway of the shop, sat me down and instantly rang 999. A paramedic was on the scene within a few minutes and he was able to do the necessary tests. Had my face drooped on one side? No, thankfully. Could I lift my arms above my head and keep them there? No. That's a bad sign. Was my speech slurred or garbled? Slightly more than normal, lol. Another bad sign.
Two out of three was bad so the paramedic rang instantly for an ambulance. That arrived just minutes later and I'm told that the resulting traffic jam of two ambulances in the street where most of Tamworth's buses stop was so severe that it made that week's edition of the local paper.
The ambulance men carried out some more tests which I don't remember, before lifting me on to a stretcher, rapidly pushing me into the back of their vehicle and blue-lighting me to the local hospital. If you observe the speed limits, that journey takes about 15 minutes. I remember that we did it in eight.
The speed of the whole process was remarkable. Within an hour of collapsing, I was in a hospital bed. Yet I know stroke-survivors who had completely the opposite experience. Where members of the public didn't know what to do, didn't call an ambulance, didn't recognise the signs. There is no doubt that those people had their recovery set back as a result.
So remember the signs. F=Face; A=Arms; S=Speech; T=Time. If you do find yourself in the position of my networking friend, make sure you know the signs to look for and get a paramedic on the scene as soon as possible. You could help to save someone's life. I am convinced that lady's prompt action helped to save mine.
Wednesday 13 January 2016
So how will you spend YOUR dash?
It became obvious pretty quickly to me post-stroke that there just isn't enough support, advice and help out there for strokies and their carers. Those who are providing it do sterling work, but there should be more.
That there isn't probably partly comes down to what an eminent neurosurgeon once told me. He was talking about funding for stroke research as against funding for research into other serious illnesses and disabilities, but it applies to other things, as well. "Stroke isn't sexy," he said.
It was a rather blunt way of putting it, but you know what he meant.
Hearing those words cemented an idea which was already forming in my mind about re-training to provide counselling for stroke-survivors and carers. After all, there aren't enough qualified counsellors at all, there aren't enough male counsellors and there aren't enough disabled counsellors, those who have walked in the footsteps of stroke-survivors.
So I'm now training to be a counsellor and hope to qualify in two or three years. So far, it's been fascinating, rewarding and challenging. I know it will get considerably more challenging and I do wonder how my strokie-brain will cope, but I won't know unless I try, will I?
Obviously, what goes on in my counselling lessons is confidential, but I can say that during a recent lesson, our tutor introduced us to 'The Dash Poem' by Linda Ellis (find it at www.Linda-Ellis.com). It's often read at funerals and it encouraged the class to think about what we do with our lives and how we will be remembered when we're gone.
As a strokie, perhaps I can't do as much these days as I'd like to but I can still try to be the best I can, given my circumstances. That's why I write this blog, that's why I'm currently working on a short novel, that's why I do talks about stroke-education and it's why I want to be a counsellor. If that's what I can do given my situation, I might as well be as good as I can at it.
*Speaking of talks, if you run your own business and are into business networking or would like to try it, I'm speaking at a couple of meetings in the Midlands over the next week or so. I'll be talking about my recent fundraising run for the Different Strokes charity at 4Networking's Birmingham Lunch event on Tuesday January 19 (details at https://www.4networking.biz/Events/Group/Birmingham%20Lunch) and the Lichfield Breakfast meeting on Thursday January 21 (details at https://www.4networking.biz/Events/Group/Lichfield). I'd love to see you at one or preferably both of these!
That there isn't probably partly comes down to what an eminent neurosurgeon once told me. He was talking about funding for stroke research as against funding for research into other serious illnesses and disabilities, but it applies to other things, as well. "Stroke isn't sexy," he said.
It was a rather blunt way of putting it, but you know what he meant.
Hearing those words cemented an idea which was already forming in my mind about re-training to provide counselling for stroke-survivors and carers. After all, there aren't enough qualified counsellors at all, there aren't enough male counsellors and there aren't enough disabled counsellors, those who have walked in the footsteps of stroke-survivors.
So I'm now training to be a counsellor and hope to qualify in two or three years. So far, it's been fascinating, rewarding and challenging. I know it will get considerably more challenging and I do wonder how my strokie-brain will cope, but I won't know unless I try, will I?
Obviously, what goes on in my counselling lessons is confidential, but I can say that during a recent lesson, our tutor introduced us to 'The Dash Poem' by Linda Ellis (find it at www.Linda-Ellis.com). It's often read at funerals and it encouraged the class to think about what we do with our lives and how we will be remembered when we're gone.
As a strokie, perhaps I can't do as much these days as I'd like to but I can still try to be the best I can, given my circumstances. That's why I write this blog, that's why I'm currently working on a short novel, that's why I do talks about stroke-education and it's why I want to be a counsellor. If that's what I can do given my situation, I might as well be as good as I can at it.
*Speaking of talks, if you run your own business and are into business networking or would like to try it, I'm speaking at a couple of meetings in the Midlands over the next week or so. I'll be talking about my recent fundraising run for the Different Strokes charity at 4Networking's Birmingham Lunch event on Tuesday January 19 (details at https://www.4networking.biz/Events/Group/Birmingham%20Lunch) and the Lichfield Breakfast meeting on Thursday January 21 (details at https://www.4networking.biz/Events/Group/Lichfield). I'd love to see you at one or preferably both of these!
Wednesday 6 January 2016
The importance of getting together and talking about spaghetti on toast
"Yay, I just ate spaghetti on toast with a knife and fork, b****y thrilled."
"It's finally nice to read something and know I can relate and that others may be able to relate with me. Finally a good feeling"
I've taken those words (with permission, of course) from a couple of posts today on Different Strokes, one of the several stroke-survivor Facebook groups, internet forums and websites I use and contribute to. I've chosen them because they sum up the importance to strokies of feeling that they are not alone.
Like, I'm sure, lots of disabled people, stroke-survivors can be prone to bouts of low mood and even depression. Heck, The Warrior even gets it occasionally. It's the 'why did it happen to me?' syndrome.
The fact is, of course, that it was just as likely to happen to you as anyone else and now that it has, you can't stuff the genie back in the bottle. So it's important to keep your spirits up, to feel that you're not alone, to feel supported in as many ways as possible by your fellow strokies, wherever they may be.
Last week, a lady stopped me in a shop in Tamworth and introduced herself. I'd never met her in person but we feel like old friends because of the relationship we've built up online as stroke-survivors. Through the internet, we encourage each other (the lady with the spaghetti on toast has had 38 messages of encouragement as I write; today spaghetti on toast, tomorrow, who knows?); we give each other advice about how to deal with the minefield which is the Department of Work and Pensions; we tell each other that no, you're not the first person ever to have had that symptom, it's perfectly common and there's no need to worry about it.
And our carers also find support in this way. There is next to no help available in the UK for carers of strokies; for the people who didn't sign up for this but who now find themselves living with a totally different person, both mentally and physically, to the one they first met. That's not fair, it shouldn't happen, so the more help and support we can give each other, the better.
My support network of these groups stretches right around the UK and across the Atlantic to the West Coast of the USA. It's vital to me and it helps me if I can feel I am supporting other people, whether strokies or carers.
Many strokies are stuck at home all day and night, staring at four walls, because of their mobility problems. Anything which can help them get over the loneliness should be supported and encouraged. I hope that by drawing attention to groups like these, I can do my bit.
"It's finally nice to read something and know I can relate and that others may be able to relate with me. Finally a good feeling"
I've taken those words (with permission, of course) from a couple of posts today on Different Strokes, one of the several stroke-survivor Facebook groups, internet forums and websites I use and contribute to. I've chosen them because they sum up the importance to strokies of feeling that they are not alone.
Like, I'm sure, lots of disabled people, stroke-survivors can be prone to bouts of low mood and even depression. Heck, The Warrior even gets it occasionally. It's the 'why did it happen to me?' syndrome.
The fact is, of course, that it was just as likely to happen to you as anyone else and now that it has, you can't stuff the genie back in the bottle. So it's important to keep your spirits up, to feel that you're not alone, to feel supported in as many ways as possible by your fellow strokies, wherever they may be.
Last week, a lady stopped me in a shop in Tamworth and introduced herself. I'd never met her in person but we feel like old friends because of the relationship we've built up online as stroke-survivors. Through the internet, we encourage each other (the lady with the spaghetti on toast has had 38 messages of encouragement as I write; today spaghetti on toast, tomorrow, who knows?); we give each other advice about how to deal with the minefield which is the Department of Work and Pensions; we tell each other that no, you're not the first person ever to have had that symptom, it's perfectly common and there's no need to worry about it.
And our carers also find support in this way. There is next to no help available in the UK for carers of strokies; for the people who didn't sign up for this but who now find themselves living with a totally different person, both mentally and physically, to the one they first met. That's not fair, it shouldn't happen, so the more help and support we can give each other, the better.
My support network of these groups stretches right around the UK and across the Atlantic to the West Coast of the USA. It's vital to me and it helps me if I can feel I am supporting other people, whether strokies or carers.
Many strokies are stuck at home all day and night, staring at four walls, because of their mobility problems. Anything which can help them get over the loneliness should be supported and encouraged. I hope that by drawing attention to groups like these, I can do my bit.
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