Home again

I’m home again. It’s been a tiring worrying few days.

It all began on Sunday. Around midday my left hand & forearm were filled with pins & needles. I assumed I must have been sitting awkwardly. When I still had the tingling & numbness after 5pm, I thought I’d best mention it to the Fox & try to see whether it was like the sensation he’d felt when he had a stroke, though obviously on a lesser scale. The Fox was in the middle of cooking dinner by then.

When I ate the meal, it became apparent I’d lost my grip. I had great difficulty manipulating my fork as I tackled the pie dinner. After eating we thought I’d best ring 111. I wasn’t convinced I was having a stroke but on the other hand the tingling & numbness wasn’t going away. After answering various questions I was told to go straight to A&E within an hour. We duly did.

It was a long wait. We must have arrived at the hospital about 7.30pm. Eventually I saw the triage nurse & had an ECG & blood sample taken. Back to the waiting room & another long wait. It was a busy night at A&E. Finally I saw a doctor who thought I’d probably had a TIA or minor stroke. She arranged a CT scan which revealed some bleed in the brain. I would have to stay overnight for further tests. I finally got some diluted aspirin to thin any clot at 12.30am.

The problem with staying overnight was that there were no spare beds in the hospital. I would have to wait. By about 2.30 the Fox went to make some enquiries as to what was happening. His back was killing him after such a long wait on the uncomfortable chairs & he was aware I was getting increasingly uncomfortable in my wheelchair. I’d had to go to the loo to take off my knee braces as it was & have two lots of painkillers to ease the pain in my knees.

They finally found me a gurney to sleep on in the corridor of A&E & the Fox went home. The gurney was very hard & much space was taken up with my handbag, shoes, bed cradle etc. Just as I was starting to doze off a bit a doctor came to see me & explain a second time what they thought was the problem. An hour or so later I was told to transfer on to a bed but I remained in the corridor, though I was moved further up & further away from the light. Every time I thought I might doze off I was awakened for another blood pressure reading. Eventually around 6.30 I got moved into the minor injuries room of A&E to hopefully get some sleep.

Some hope. Now the stroke nurse arrived to ask some questions & do some tests. Once more I did some tests. I was finally told I was going to be moved to the Huggett Suite, the acute stroke unit. I arrived there about 10.30am. I was greeted with a steaming hot mug of tea – so welcome after so traumatically long a wait. I was told I was to have a MRI scan. So I waited once more.

Eventually the cleaning lady noticed I was just staring into space, unable to go anywhere as I was by this time wired up permanently to a machine seeing how my heart, pulse, oxygen intake was doing.  She hastily offered to find me some magazines to look at. It was clear that I was not to have the scan until after 24 hours had passed to see if the symptoms continued more than 24 hours. I had visits from the Physiotherapist to be told to use my hand as much as possible so I ignored the numbness & endeavoured to continue to use it whenever it was safe e.g. not trying to pick up hot mugs of tea with that hand. The Occupational Therapist came & reckoned since I’d clearly had adapted my home for disabled use there seemed little he could offer me. If I was happy to go home he was happy for me to do so. However, I would have to stay in the hospital at least until the MRI scan & that would probably mean another night’s stay. I rang the Fox & told him where I was, the visiting hours & to bring in an overnight bag & some reading matter.

While the Fox was visiting in the afternoon a doctor came round. He confirmed I’d probably had a stroke. However, the only bleed they’d found on the CT scan was on the left side & so wasn’t the cause of my numbness. They thought the problem was a slight bleed further in the brain which only a MRI scan would reveal.

The food that day was abysmal. On the first day after a stroke they insist you have virtually a liquid diet, baby food, in case you have difficulty with chewing or swallowing. For lunch the soup was good – tomato & herb – the main course was grated chicken (more finely minced than mince) in a gloopy gravy, mash & pea puree. No salt. Strawberry yogurt – I hate yogurt so that got left. Come tea-time I had some apple juice, oxtail soup, something I couldn’t even guess at & a rather sweet rice pud. That main bit was ¾ white gloop with a bit of green gloop at one end. I suspect there might have been some cauliflower in it but it was anyone’s guess. I abandoned it after one taste. Even the green gloop hadn’t any flavour, unlike the pea puree of lunchtime.

By this time my arm was normal & all but three fingers of my left hand.

Come Tuesday, I was told I was onto semi-solid food. So for breakfast I had two slices of bread & jam. Toast would have to wait another day as it requires too much chewing.

During the course of the morning, the stroke specialist doctor who had been allocated to me, a different one from the one I’d spoken to the day before, did his rounds. Having talked to me about my symptoms – by now only one finger remained numb – he concluded I hadn’t had a stroke. I’d clearly had had a stroke some time in the past – first time I’ve heard about it, presumably I was unconscious/semi-conscious at the time having an op or recovering from one – but that wasn’t the cause of my current problem. That is almost certainly a trapped nerve in my forearm otherwise more of me would have had symptoms. I could go home though they would need me to come in for some out-patient tests on the nerves in the left side of me.

It was with relief I rang the Fox to come & take me home. I’d had enough. We stopped at the golf club on the way home for some lunch, a fabulous prawn baguette, side salad & chips.

Now we’re trying to get back on top of things, to try & re-orientate ourselves. We both feel we’ve lost track of time. It doesn’t help when today we have a funeral to go to. The food shop hasn’t been done yet this week. That will have to wait until tomorrow. Everything is out of synch.

My little finger is still not fully recovered. However most of the strength in my grip has returned.

I’m bemused to discover certain things they found. I’ve already mentioned that mystery stroke. Apparently I have a very large brain mass for someone of my age. Usually a certain amount of brain dies with the years passing but mine is all there. If nothing else I should avoid dementia. Though, personally, I can’t help thinking mass does not mean there is anything of great value, or intelligence, in the brain.

My breathing apparently is very good. 99% oxygen intake, far better than the average healthy person.

I’ve apparently got the right attitude for someone who has had a stroke. I couldn’t help thinking that’s because I’ve been disabled a long time. One thing you do learn is how to adapt your life to your ability. It’s not like having the shock of disability thrown upon you after years of being healthy. If I hadn’t discovered a point in living by now, some thirty years on, then I would have killed myself – I know. I made two attempts at suicide while I was adjusting to life as a disabled person.  I’ve learnt that my value lies in me, the sort of person I am, not what I do, which is damn all.