Positive mental attitude is something I talk about a lot in terms of stroke rehabilitation: if you don't believe you'll improve and keep improving, then you won't. If you do, you will. And if you don't do something about it, you certainly won't.
And part of the thinking behind calling this blog 'The Warrior' was to reflect that desire for positive mental attitude. Warriors don't stop fighting, do they?
This week, however, I've struggled to live up to my own words. Domestic life has been stressful for various reasons and some home-improvement work has massively disrupted the normal daily schedule of life at Warrillow Towers.
The first really cold spell of the winter hasn't helped; warriors aren't supposed to sit inside their castles with thick thermal gloves on and wearing two jumpers because they are freezing cold. But being outside in the cold, wind and rain isn't good for me, my blood-thinning tablets make me feel cold anyway and someone needed to be in the house to supervise the home improvements.
So by Monday evening, this particular warrior was seriously lacking in PMA. But as always, my fellow college students in counselling skills acted as a sounding-board for me to let off steam and a brutal session in the gym on Tuesday with #breathebalancebeactivatedEmily left me realising just how far I have come since December 16 2013; after all, focusing on what you can do, not what you can't do, is the definition of PMA, isn't it?
Tuesday evening, however, saw another setback. The gym session wore me out more than I had imagined and I let it trouble me; which brought bad thoughts to the fore about our ongoing financial difficulties and my own future in general. I needed a boost and this morning (Wednesday) I got one; well, two, in fact. First, my good friend Mel Eves, who some of you may remember from his previous life as a professional footballer in the 1970's and '80's with Wolverhampton Wanderers, came to visit me at Warrillow Towers. Mel is an expert in sports performance and on the need for elite sportsmen to be 'in the zone' when they are performing. Positive mental attitude is key and if you are interested, I recommend you check out his website at www.wellnesswizard.co.uk.
An hour with Mel, working on my mental approach to my thoughts and life in general, lifted my mood. Then, I had a visit from a networking friend, Amanda Goldston. To quote a testimonial I read about her recently, Amanda is the ''MAD Woman of MAD Woman Academy helping Magnificent, Awesome, Daring Women to clear away blocks to money." She talks to men, as well, I'm pleased to say and she was visiting to deliver some relaxation tapes which I am hoping can be used to help fellow stroke-survivors.
But we also began talking about a project for which she volunteers called Walking For Health (walkingforhealth.org.uk). Run by the Ramblers and Macmillan Cancer Support, it provides thousands of walks of varying degrees of difficulty to help people improve their health. There are several free walks (the magic word there is free, lol....) within a few miles of Warrillow Towers and I may well try one soon. When and if, I do, you can be sure I'll blog about it. And I go into the next seven days with a much more positive attitude.
Wednesday 25 November 2015
Wednesday 18 November 2015
An unexpected start to my day
Like too many of us these days, the first thing I do when I come downstairs in the morning is check my phone; text messages, emails, Facebook, the ESPN Sportscenter website (don't ask....).
Only when that is done do I open the curtains, feed the cat and the dog and do all my other early-morning tasks.
Often, the only thing of importance is another rude email from the bank or a message from one of my strokie friends on the west coast of the USA. On Friday, however, one message really shook me out of half-sleep.
It was from a (necessarily anonymous) friend who said that two people very close to her had been forced to deal with stroke in the last couple of weeks. One involved someone suffering a fatal stroke, another person had been left paralysed down their left side (as I was, of course).
My friend was seeking advice, help, details of support groups and so on; it's a scenario I come across all too often. Stroke hits completely unexpectedly and often, the person involved, their family and friends haven't a clue where to turn.
The NHS does its best with limited resources but their focus is on the person who has had the stroke, not their family and friends. Yet these people also find their lives turned upside down in an instant. They may have to give up work/reduce their hours to care for someone, so finance becomes a major issue; they almost certainly don't know where to go for help and advice; they don't know what is going to happen in the long term; they probably don't know what caused the stroke; they don't know what the after-effects (which can be many and varied - every single stroke is different) will be. The stress is enormous. And the one thing survivors are supposed to avoid is stress.
They need someone to talk to and stroke-support groups for carers and survivors are crucial. So often, I come across people who ask if this or that symptom is normal post-stroke - whether it's depression, mood-swings, sensitivity to noise, forgetfulness, fatigue or any one of plenty more. Too many people aren't told what will happen, when it will happen, whether the survivor will get better and how quickly and so on.
Joining support groups or just talking to survivors and carers is an important part of the rehabilitation process. Yet funding for groups like this is, unsurprisingly, not easy to find. Which is why blogs like this and the work so many survivors and carers do in educating others are so important.
I love writing this blog every Wednesday. I'd do it even if no-one was reading it. But messages like that I received on Friday make me realise why I do it.
Only when that is done do I open the curtains, feed the cat and the dog and do all my other early-morning tasks.
Often, the only thing of importance is another rude email from the bank or a message from one of my strokie friends on the west coast of the USA. On Friday, however, one message really shook me out of half-sleep.
It was from a (necessarily anonymous) friend who said that two people very close to her had been forced to deal with stroke in the last couple of weeks. One involved someone suffering a fatal stroke, another person had been left paralysed down their left side (as I was, of course).
My friend was seeking advice, help, details of support groups and so on; it's a scenario I come across all too often. Stroke hits completely unexpectedly and often, the person involved, their family and friends haven't a clue where to turn.
The NHS does its best with limited resources but their focus is on the person who has had the stroke, not their family and friends. Yet these people also find their lives turned upside down in an instant. They may have to give up work/reduce their hours to care for someone, so finance becomes a major issue; they almost certainly don't know where to go for help and advice; they don't know what is going to happen in the long term; they probably don't know what caused the stroke; they don't know what the after-effects (which can be many and varied - every single stroke is different) will be. The stress is enormous. And the one thing survivors are supposed to avoid is stress.
They need someone to talk to and stroke-support groups for carers and survivors are crucial. So often, I come across people who ask if this or that symptom is normal post-stroke - whether it's depression, mood-swings, sensitivity to noise, forgetfulness, fatigue or any one of plenty more. Too many people aren't told what will happen, when it will happen, whether the survivor will get better and how quickly and so on.
Joining support groups or just talking to survivors and carers is an important part of the rehabilitation process. Yet funding for groups like this is, unsurprisingly, not easy to find. Which is why blogs like this and the work so many survivors and carers do in educating others are so important.
I love writing this blog every Wednesday. I'd do it even if no-one was reading it. But messages like that I received on Friday make me realise why I do it.
Thursday 12 November 2015
Camera-shy? Me? No, of course not.....
At a networking meeting I attended this morning, someone said that most people's biggest phobia surrounds having to speak in public (Obviously, the speaker, who is a life coach, wasn't one of them.)
Public speaking, either to an audience, into a microphone or into a TV camera, has never bothered me. I was sports editor of the student radio station at Loughborough University in the mid-80s, I've done countless presentations to business networking meetings and since my stroke, I've appeared on radio and TV talking about my experience.
I've even done presentations in the nude to entirely naked audiences at naturist events. After all, they do say one of the best ways to combat public-speaking phobia (is there a word for it?) is to imagine that the audience is nude.
Consequently, when I get the chance to educate an audience anywhere about stroke, I generally take it. I was contacted recently by Megan Trowell, production co-ordinator for a new project from the Stroke Association called "My Stroke Guide.' It's intended as (I quote...) "a digital self-management tool to support people in their recovery following a stroke."
Available on mainstream digital platforms, it will feature information on how to deal with the effects of stroke, advice and signposting on key issues that people face after stroke, goal-setting tools and graphs for individuals, memory and concentration games, peer-to-peer support, online forums and an extensive video library.
Megan wanted me to tell my story for six of those videos, each dealing with some of the problems that all strokies face and how I have managed (or failed) to deal with them.
Megan and her camerawoman Rochielle spent five hours on Wednesday this week at Warrillow Towers, filming me telling my story and relating my experiences over issues such as headaches, vision problems, fatigue, irritability and the like.
It all went superbly (I think) and I am looking forward to seeing the results. At the moment, because the site is so new, stroke survivors who are interested in the project will get a log-in and an introduction to the site from a member of staff at the Stroke Association who will support them to use it. Therefore, MSG is currently only available to people living within an area where there is a Stroke Association service supported by the local health board or authority and/or the NHS via a contract.
Obviously, the eventual aim is for all stroke survivors to be able to use it but, as always, money will probably be the issue. If and when I hear more, I'll blog about it here.
I must also give my usual quick shout-out to the amazing Emily Smedley. You may recall that last week's session saw me failing dismally to climb on to a platform using my stroke-affected left foot first, then trying and failing to hang a few inches off the ground and being defeated by my poorly left shoulder.
Well, things were a little better this week. I still didn't manage the platform, but I felt slightly more confident in doing both that and trying to hang, while we did plenty of work on my affected visual field; I tried (sometimes successfully!!) to catch a ball and a falling pole using only my left hand.
Throughout it all, I kept thinking (as I have often said here) "no such word as can't" and I will get there, even if it takes a while.
PS - I am indebted to Tarnya Brink, who read this post and has now educated me with the knowledge that the fear of public speaking is called glossophobia.
Public speaking, either to an audience, into a microphone or into a TV camera, has never bothered me. I was sports editor of the student radio station at Loughborough University in the mid-80s, I've done countless presentations to business networking meetings and since my stroke, I've appeared on radio and TV talking about my experience.
I've even done presentations in the nude to entirely naked audiences at naturist events. After all, they do say one of the best ways to combat public-speaking phobia (is there a word for it?) is to imagine that the audience is nude.
Consequently, when I get the chance to educate an audience anywhere about stroke, I generally take it. I was contacted recently by Megan Trowell, production co-ordinator for a new project from the Stroke Association called "My Stroke Guide.' It's intended as (I quote...) "a digital self-management tool to support people in their recovery following a stroke."
Available on mainstream digital platforms, it will feature information on how to deal with the effects of stroke, advice and signposting on key issues that people face after stroke, goal-setting tools and graphs for individuals, memory and concentration games, peer-to-peer support, online forums and an extensive video library.
Megan wanted me to tell my story for six of those videos, each dealing with some of the problems that all strokies face and how I have managed (or failed) to deal with them.
Megan and her camerawoman Rochielle spent five hours on Wednesday this week at Warrillow Towers, filming me telling my story and relating my experiences over issues such as headaches, vision problems, fatigue, irritability and the like.
It all went superbly (I think) and I am looking forward to seeing the results. At the moment, because the site is so new, stroke survivors who are interested in the project will get a log-in and an introduction to the site from a member of staff at the Stroke Association who will support them to use it. Therefore, MSG is currently only available to people living within an area where there is a Stroke Association service supported by the local health board or authority and/or the NHS via a contract.
Obviously, the eventual aim is for all stroke survivors to be able to use it but, as always, money will probably be the issue. If and when I hear more, I'll blog about it here.
I must also give my usual quick shout-out to the amazing Emily Smedley. You may recall that last week's session saw me failing dismally to climb on to a platform using my stroke-affected left foot first, then trying and failing to hang a few inches off the ground and being defeated by my poorly left shoulder.
Well, things were a little better this week. I still didn't manage the platform, but I felt slightly more confident in doing both that and trying to hang, while we did plenty of work on my affected visual field; I tried (sometimes successfully!!) to catch a ball and a falling pole using only my left hand.
Throughout it all, I kept thinking (as I have often said here) "no such word as can't" and I will get there, even if it takes a while.
PS - I am indebted to Tarnya Brink, who read this post and has now educated me with the knowledge that the fear of public speaking is called glossophobia.
 |
| The Warrior being filmed this week |
Wednesday 4 November 2015
Why I'll never be a left-winger - not yet, anyway
It's often said by stroke-survivors that coming out on the other side of something so life-threatening gives you a new perspective on life.
Because no stroke results in the same after-effects, we all deal with that in different ways. Some of us have severe speech problems, some are left dragging their affected side around 'like a sack of spuds' in the evocative phrase used by a close friend of mine, others such as myself have balance and memory issues, others lose large parts of their vision, some are intensely depressed by what has happened.
The various issues are caused by whichever part of the brain is affected (Google it....) and I consider myself somewhat fortunate to have got away relatively lightly. Since that fateful day in December 2013, I've been able to re-learn how to use my left side, I threw away my sticks in July of this year, I took part in a sponsored run last month, I'm training to be a counsellor, I've done plenty I wouldn't have dreamed of doing when I was a journalist.
This week delivered another first. Unsurprisingly, it involved physiotherapist Emily Smedley of breathebalancebeactivated. Since I successfully completed my 5km 'run' at the end of September, the focus of my work with Emily has changed. No longer do I lie on the couch for an hour, periodically screaming and howling in agony as she pokes, prods and pushes. For the last three weeks, we have spent time in the gym, with Emily teaching me the basics of boxing.
It's not just a matter of standing there and flinging punches, although it does help to get out some of my aggression and frustration; rather, my feet have to be in the right place and as we're practicing without gloves, my hands have to be positioned properly. Apparently, it's surprisingly easy to break a finger if you don't do it properly.
I've also been dragged backwards around the gym with an extendable band around my waist (it improves balance, apparently) but this week's efforts hit new heights - or tried to.
Emily was only asking me to step up on to a platform which was about a foot off the floor - but to do it using my affected left foot first. And it absolutely wouldn't go.
I could get up there by resting my hands on the platform, I could easily do it right foot first. But my left foot simply wouldn't play ball. It's a mental block, apparently. We'll be working on it.
We'll also be working on making me hang in the air with my hands gripping a high horizontal iron frame, with my feet off the floor. At my first attempt, my left shoulder wasn't having any of it; not only is that shoulder on my affected side, I've had problems with it previously.
Again, it's a mental issue; I did manage to do both these things after a fashion but not to my satisfaction; especially not when I watched Emily climbing over the gym equipment like Spiderwoman.
But I'll keep going; using the principle that 'there's no such word as can't' I will manage it and it will be another goal achieved, won't it?
And anyway.....she won't let me focus what I can't do, only on what I can do. Which is a pretty good mantra for stroke-survivors and disabled people everywhere.
Because no stroke results in the same after-effects, we all deal with that in different ways. Some of us have severe speech problems, some are left dragging their affected side around 'like a sack of spuds' in the evocative phrase used by a close friend of mine, others such as myself have balance and memory issues, others lose large parts of their vision, some are intensely depressed by what has happened.
The various issues are caused by whichever part of the brain is affected (Google it....) and I consider myself somewhat fortunate to have got away relatively lightly. Since that fateful day in December 2013, I've been able to re-learn how to use my left side, I threw away my sticks in July of this year, I took part in a sponsored run last month, I'm training to be a counsellor, I've done plenty I wouldn't have dreamed of doing when I was a journalist.
This week delivered another first. Unsurprisingly, it involved physiotherapist Emily Smedley of breathebalancebeactivated. Since I successfully completed my 5km 'run' at the end of September, the focus of my work with Emily has changed. No longer do I lie on the couch for an hour, periodically screaming and howling in agony as she pokes, prods and pushes. For the last three weeks, we have spent time in the gym, with Emily teaching me the basics of boxing.
It's not just a matter of standing there and flinging punches, although it does help to get out some of my aggression and frustration; rather, my feet have to be in the right place and as we're practicing without gloves, my hands have to be positioned properly. Apparently, it's surprisingly easy to break a finger if you don't do it properly.
I've also been dragged backwards around the gym with an extendable band around my waist (it improves balance, apparently) but this week's efforts hit new heights - or tried to.
Emily was only asking me to step up on to a platform which was about a foot off the floor - but to do it using my affected left foot first. And it absolutely wouldn't go.
I could get up there by resting my hands on the platform, I could easily do it right foot first. But my left foot simply wouldn't play ball. It's a mental block, apparently. We'll be working on it.
We'll also be working on making me hang in the air with my hands gripping a high horizontal iron frame, with my feet off the floor. At my first attempt, my left shoulder wasn't having any of it; not only is that shoulder on my affected side, I've had problems with it previously.
Again, it's a mental issue; I did manage to do both these things after a fashion but not to my satisfaction; especially not when I watched Emily climbing over the gym equipment like Spiderwoman.
But I'll keep going; using the principle that 'there's no such word as can't' I will manage it and it will be another goal achieved, won't it?
And anyway.....she won't let me focus what I can't do, only on what I can do. Which is a pretty good mantra for stroke-survivors and disabled people everywhere.
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