Who Is This Snarky Person ?

In my head I am still fully capable of doing everything I was able to do three years ago, but then the reminders strike.

I forget the names of random items.
While talking I sometimes pause for my next thoughts to form.
It makes people think I have finished speaking and then I don't get to actually make my point.

Or even worse, I look less intelligent than I actually am.

But the worse part is that I am actually less intelligent than I was three years ago. 

I know that I am actually one of the very lucky few.

I survived with no lasting physical damage.

What is the loss of a few I.Q. points if I can still walk without assistance?

Yeah, right! Totally a fair trade.

So what happened to me you wonder? 

I am a stroke survivor.

I am a heart attack survivor.

One night.
Two possible life altering events.
Total fun time party for me. 

My emergency room doctor was extremely proud of himself for figuring out that at the age of forty seven I had just experienced a "Silent Heart Attack".

He actually said he was proud of himself.
Then he told us why.
My symptoms were unusual for a heart attack.
Even I knew what to look for in a normal heart attack.

My father had several before cancer stepped in and said this one is mine.
I even knew that women had different symptoms and made sure I was familiar with them.

Because, hey, if your dad is going to have a heart attack at age 48, being prepared is smart and I was smart.

But I had to have something special. 
It was sneaky. 
It was quiet. 
It was fucking Silent.

I was forty seven years old. 





A whole year younger than my dad.





But there were differences. I had no blockages, so no surgery. He had five blockages and had to have emergency surgery.

My heart attack was mild. His, not so much. 

The heart attack was easy peasy stuff for me. 
They ran a wire from my thigh up into my heart and then I had to lay flat on my back forever. 
Or for eight hours. 
Whichever came first. 
Lucky for me the eight hours sped by at the pace of a bad summer day waiting for dark so you can finally put your kids to bed again.  
Have you ever laid in one place without moving for eight hours? 
If you have, I feel ya! 
If you haven't, do not have a heart attack...they will make you do this. 
It is not pleasant. Especially in a hospital bed.

The real kicker of this adventure was that the one part of my body that I had always counted on to stand by me. 
To support me in everything I tried to do. 







To always have my metaphorical back, kicked my metaphorical ass. 
Big time. I never expected it and was so shocked that I refused to accept anything had changed.  
I was so wrong.

My brain basically sent me out a big old "fuck you" message and it was my own fault.

I had spent years struggling with high blood pressure. But I had managed to find a combination of medications that was working.
The best news was that I had finally quit smoking five months previously. 

But it was too little, too late.

My brain stroked in the area related to language, words and speech.
That was the best part of my brain. WTF?
My speech was slurred for months after. I didn't notice it right away. Everyone else did.
But no one said anything.  I notice it now when I am tired.
I continue to "reach" for words that I knew before that are lost to me now. I was fairly articulate before that stroke. I fake it pretty good now. 

Before the stroke I was an avid reader. I read ferociously. I do not know if I can describe how much I actually loved to read. Or how fast I could read and understand and comprehend.

Hmmm....I began and finished each of the Harry Potter novels on the day the were released. That is a lot of words. I actually purchased two of the last three novels so my son could have his own copy because I didn't want to share mine and he thought it was unfair he had to wait until the next day to start reading.

After the stroke, I was still able to read and understand. But nothing I read stayed with me. To read a new book in a series, I would have to read all the books that were released since the stroke to "catch up". I was current up to the stroke date, but after that..Poof!

I finally re-wired the reading about a year ago, but I am nowhere near as fast as before

But strangely I forgot information that I had been told in the months prior to the stroke. When I was "reminded" of things, apparently my reactions were identical to the way I reacted when first told.

I struggle everyday with the people who should understand me the best and they still don't get it. Because I am really good at faking it. Because I can make jokes about Stroke Brain and having brain damage. Because I let it slide when someone talks over me or assumes that the extra second it takes for me to gather my thoughts is their clue to walk away.

 Because no one really knows what its like inside my head, even the people I have tried to explain this shit to. Because how do you really explain how it feels to know that you use to be smarter than you are now, and while you know you are still smart, you also know just what you lost when your brain revolted against you.
How is it possible for another person to get that you aren't crying because you are sad, or your feelings are hurt, but because you are angry at a fate you can't change.
That you don't want people to feel sorry for you, that you aren't looking for sympathy or any sorry shit like that. 

I know that I am okay most days. I do just fine. But damn, there are some days that I want to scream and yell and ask just what the FUCK did I do to deserve having my brain semi-scrambled. 

But what I did was not pay enough attention to my high blood pressure when I was younger. My brain formed scar tissue. The scar tissue led to a stroke. End of the story. 

Oh...well not really. That scar tissue? The area I have it in? 

I also now have seizures. All the time. Absence seizures. From that area of the brain. FML! 

But that is another blog. This one has done wore me out.