Who has a stroke in their 30’s? I do.

After a long absence my Blog has life once again. Ironic, isn't it?

I’ll miss the stroke. Really. Don’t get me wrong. Sure it was scary afterwards when I understood what the Hell had occurred. The kids, my family, a presentation to give and tomorrow is trash day! But oh how fascinating it was when my mind was co-opt and somewhere between PS (pre-stroke) and afterwards when the “event” was over. But during the stroke which felt like it lasted about 4 hours. There is one (that I can recall) caveat. While the stroke was occurring, linear time does not occur during a left-hemisphere ischemic stroke. There was no past remember and there was not future to consider/worry/think about. There was only the present. And for the only time in my humble adult life I was aware, living in, thinking in solely in the moment and then the following moment and so on. I couldn’t consider the next second let alone tomorrow. And as a result of “Being Present” for those hours I was as content and tranquil as I had ever been. And so now when I say I “miss the stroke” perhaps you’ll better understand. Other than stress (and who doesn’t have it), I was in the best shape of my life. 9% body fat, 158 cholesterol, BP of 120/70, eating right, working out like a freak. Never smoked, only an occasional drink. So, if that doesn’t help, maybe I’ll start smoking, ravenously wolf down steaks every night, swill martinis before dinner and gulp Scotch at the end of meals.

At some point, a clot moved to my left hemisphere and caused the stroke. In an ischemic stroke blood supply to part of the brain is decreased, leading to dysfunction of the brain tissue in that area. 87% of all strokes are classified as “ischemic.”

Stroke without an obvious explanation is termed "cryptogenic" (of unknown origin); this constitutes 30-40% of all ischemic strokes. And despite the alien abduction like slew of tests and procedures the reason for my stroke is still a mystery.

What Happened: The Rug pulled out from under

Things started innocently enough. We moved to Colorado from Connecticut 8 months earlier and we had the joy of moving 5 places in those 8 months with two under 5 year old kids in tow. But we had finally settled on the house that was going to become our home. A recent home we bought no more than 3 days and I was heading to our rental home 1.5 miles away. All was left to do was for me to meet to a couple to look at and buy a rug from the rental and then I was heading home for the day. If you’re dying to find one of your own, here is where you can find it: ( http://www.potterybarn.com/products/quinn-felted-shag-rug-clay/ ). The couple seemed nice enough. Rather non-descript late 30ish/early 40ish. Not gregarious but polite. If I were to guess, they were accountants.

Back and forth they wondered whether it would fit in the room they were planning on them. Not really wanting to keep it any longer, nor did I want to get rid of it, I substantially discounted the asking price as to further incite them to purchase it. “You know, I know it is a little larger than the room you have, but I’ve done the same. Just fold it under the rug where the couch is going to go. Worked great for us.” That sold it.

My Silent Movers

So I rolled up the rug and it started relatively well though we clearly knew this was going to be a heavy job. The husband was in front and I was in the back. It was only slight easier to moving a king mattress. After a little of heavy breathing we collected ourselves for the carry up the stairs and turning the first landing. We cleared the landing and were half-way up and took a moment to catch our breath. On this next push up, with me at the bottom and taking the bulk of weight we gave a big (mighty is an adverb more reserved for heroic efforts) shove. And then something happened. Or more accurately, something stopped happening. I stopped speaking out loud but all of my thoughts and words were in my mind. Though I still not felt that there was anything “wrong.” I felt a little floating sense in my head but not light-headed or pain. In fact I stopped thinking about anything but moving that rug. But the husband and wife, made a couple of comments and/or asked me. And I said…nothing. I smiled, I think. Not really a smile, but more of a sense of content. I even fooled myself a couple of times into thinking I may have actually spoken. But in fact I had not spoken a single word had been uttered from me approximately starting at 7:35PM. I learned later that Allison, my lovely wife whom I spoke with the couple the next day, thought I had “just been on drugs.”

The couple had left in their truck and was started closing up the rental and this is when I started being more aware of something was up. I went into the home to turn off the lights and to be fair, there were a lot of lights indeed. But I couldn’t find all of the lights in the house. After walking around for a few minutes, I gave it up and walked into the garage.

Now in the garage I was simply trying to close the garage with a 4 digit number to shut the garage door closer. I knew it by heart. But I didn’t. I tried first. No dice. No problem…it happens. Tried again. Wrong again. Now I just walked around the garage for a few minutes. Not why I was doing that….maybe thinking that it would come back. At this point I knew I was feeling “different” but still hadn’t connected the dots yet. But there is also a physiology reason why which I’ll come back to later. I tried again, now the 3rd time. Still didn’t work. Tried 3 more times getting the number wrong and figured somehow I obviously forgotten a number that I’ve known for 6 months. Time to call Allison.