Something is Different

I knew I forgot something… call Allison. She's gonna kill me.

So knowing that something was different and I was unable to close the garage, I sat in the car’s driver side in the driveway. Keep in mind that I had no plan on driving. It wasn’t that I was scared in fact the mere thought of driving home didn’t even enter my mind. I never lost conscious. Most stroke suffers lose conscious, waking up (if they do) after sometime and often have a blurring ephemeral return back to reality albeit likely altered. If they are lucky they will recognize someone looking above them with a combination of smiles hidden by their concern. Others wake up attached to tubes, leaders from EKGs, IVs and if they made it this far the unmistakable wafting mixed of scents of hospital smells; rubbing alcohol, stale flowers 24 hours from expiring, hospital food in various states of consumption all combined with the unique various inmates/patients mixed with their own ailment. Imagine that for a moment.

One minute you’re in a Starbuck’s getting your latte on. You ask the barista for a grande. You’re on the phone with a colleague about a deadline which just went sideway. In your mind, working in the background much like a computer, there are a dozen other things to process, consider, choose, decide, procrastinate, plan, worry, and look forward to. You’re processing what your colleague is telling you. You consider talking to your colleague and asking them to call the client to have a meeting. You choose about whether you should get a blueberry muffin at Starbucks or get something on the way to the airport? You decide to refinance the house now because interest rates have gotten pretty low and we should refinance now. You procrastinate getting your driver’s license renewed because who the hell wants to go to the DMV. You plan for a vacation 6 months ago. Where should we go? You worry about whether or not the economy is going to go into a “double-dip?” You look forward to seeing the kids when you get home from your business trip. But at the moment of the stroke, it all stops. But if it was even possible, I digressed more than usual.

While sitting in the car, looking down at my iPhone, and then looking up, I had forgotten why I was there, in my car, in this driveway, of this house, in this state, at this time, of day of this month or year. So even more befuddling to me was why Allison had suddenly been kneeling down in front of me in the driveway of our rental house. I did recognize her and then after a few moments I vaguely remembering something about her talking to me on the phone. It would be accurate to call it a “conversation” because at the time, on the phone I was unable to get past 1-2 words let alone a coherent thought, feeling, expression or an explanation. Later I would understand that Allison guessed on where I was at the time of the stroke. Allison had to guess where I was and which way she drove to find me. She had no idea if I went to the rental, if I was driving, had I stopped on the road side? Did I drive off into a ditch? While the kids were blissfully ignorant and asleep while what was occurring Allison jumped in her car a started to drive following instinct and instantaneously calculating where I might have been and the route I might have taken. She was right.

She was wearing blue pilled sweats, Ugg boot knock-offs and a face that combined urgency with incredible calm। And so here I was. I had no pain. But I did have this sense that my peripheral site was not blurry but was not considered in my mind. Ambient sounds were all muted. Allison pulled into the driveway and kneeled upon an icy driveway and looked straight in my eyes.

Allison: “Are you ok?”
Me: “I’m…”
Allison: “Did someone hurt you?”
Me: “Something…” “I…”

And this is when I started to understand that something was beyond a “normal” experience. I understood most of her questions. And I thought I understood the answers to her questions. At most I could get one word out of my mouth. And often nothing came out of my mouth at all. I knew Allison was calling 911 and this was the first time that more than one word in a row came out of my mouth.

“Something is different.” Not ‘wrong,’ ‘different.’ “Something is different.”

Allison called it in and gave my location and condition. ‘Condition’ for Allison would observe me as confused, not speaking, and I’m sure she was a little scared but….calm. ‘Condition’ for me was ‘different.’ I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t in pain. There was no past or future there was only that moment. And nothing else mattered in my mind. I was calm, and experienced a tranquility that I wish I could bottle. The tranquility remained even though an ambulance and police officers arrived with brilliant red, white and blue brilliant flashing lights along with a small platoon of EMTs and police officers. And despite all the brilliance of lights, strangers, the parade of neighbors pouring out of their front homes and moving closer, I only saw and heard was Allison. At least for the moment that was all I had.

How long would this tranquility maintain? You’ll find out soon…...