My wife, Allison, graciously offered to be a special guest author/columnist for our latest submission. There was also the minor fact that I didn’t remember too much at this point. Take it from here...
I was just finishing putting the boys down for just the second night in our new house and heard my cell phone ringing downstairs. I said “good night” to Miles and shut the door before heading downstairs to my phone: “Missed call – Joe cell”. I called him right back, “Hi babe. How did it go with the rug? Did you sell it?” From the other end I heard “Al, something is….I can’t….what is the….we need to call….” Just a series of short, unfinished thoughts. I actually thought my cell phone was cutting out so I started walking around the house, dodging boxes in every hallway, to find a good signal.
After hearing “Something’s wrong” for the third time I felt my heart racing and knew I needed to get to him. I grabbed my car keys (forgoing shoes in the middle of March) and jumped in the car. Joe wasn’t able to answer any of my questions… “Are you still at the rental house?” “If you are driving please pull over – I am on my way.” I think it took me a minute and a half to get to 450 Himalaya as I whizzed by other cars that were just cruising through the neighborhood at the 25 mile per hour limit. I was preparing myself to see Joe critically wounded, rationalizing that the reason he couldn’t answer me was that the man that came to buy our rug had physically harmed him.
I turned the corner and caught sight of our “old house” and Joe’s green Audi was parked in the driveway, the door open, Joe sitting in the driver’s seat. I threw the car into park and raced to him. I leaned down and gazed over his torso and legs and was relieved to not see any blood. I then looked in his eyes and saw confusion staring back at me. I began to ask the same questions to try to determine what I’d missed: “Does anything hurt?” “Did you meet the man for the rug?” “Baby, can you tell me what is going on?” Each time Joe was able to just get out a word or two…”Something’s wrong” or “We need to call Mike” or “I can’t remember…”. I touched his cheek and smiled, holding back tears. I told him it would be ok as I dialed 911 on my cell phone. He looked at me and very clearly said “Who are you calling?” I was surprised at the clarity of his question as he looked at me holding the phone to my ear and was just more confused that he had – what seemed like – a moment of clarity. While we were waiting for the ambulance I remember him looking down at his hand, holding his car keys. He looked at them with confusion, as though he didn’t know what they were for, and then gently placed them on the dash.
I then remembered that I had left Max and Miles at home asleep and needed to get someone over there. Luckily, in the 6 months we’d lived on Himalaya we had become friendly with a family across the street with two teenage daughters that often babysat the kids. Sven and Sue, their parents, are amazing people and I started looking up their home number. I asked Sven to come across to our house to get my garage door opener before heading to our new place to just be in the house until I had a better idea of what was going on. Sven and his youngest daughter Kirsty were running to us within seconds and as I turned around I saw the lights of the ambulance glowing behind them.
The paramedics’ team came up to Joe’s car to start assessing the situation. The first thing I was asked was his name and what happened. I explained the call I’d gotten and his inability to answer my questions. I was then asked if he had done any drugs. I told them "no" – that I had seen Joe just 30 minutes earlier at home before he left to meet a guy and his wife at 7pm to sell them a rug off Craig’s list.
The EMT team put Joe on a stretcher and I asked which hospital they were heading to. I realized that in addition to getting some shoes on, I would need to race home and get my wallet and Joe’s meds - not to mention making sure Sven, Sue and the girls were there with my kids. I left 450 Himalaya at 7:45pm and drove home quickly but surprisingly un-panicked. In retrospect I know I was unconsciously calmed by Joe’s composed and peaceful demeanor during the past 15 minutes and was figuring it couldn’t be a very big deal since he wasn’t in any pain or panic. There was never a look fear in his eyes – and it was a strange yet welcome sensation.
I expected to arrive at the hospital after the ambulance as they already had Joe inside when I left 450 Himalaya and assumed they would be leaving for Exempla within a minute or two. At 8:00pm I left the new house and surprisingly, as I made my way to Aspen Street, I met up with the ambulance coming out of the Country Estates development. There weren't any lights on and they were driving roughly 20 miles per hour. I was confused as to why they'd been at the 450 Himalaya address for the past 15 minutes and wondered why they weren't speeding to the hospital. I followed them while calling my sister Robyn to tell her what was going on. We arrived there at 8:10pm.
At 9pm I realized I would need to have someone take over at my house for Sven and his family. Robyn suggested that Heidi, my 22 year old sister, could come to the house after getting off work so she took over the babysitting duties while I stayed with Joe.
The first two hours in the Emergency Room, until about 10:30pm, were very confusing for everyone. Joe was alert and in no pain. When asked his name, birthday, address and today’s date he gave perfect answers. When asked who the president was he replied “Olama”. When asked what he had for lunch he said “Chicken sandwich”. Then in response to “Where did you eat lunch?” he said “Yes, I also had chips and a diet coke.” No matter how often he was asked where he’d eaten lunch, he could not clarify with a location.
As the questions got more detailed Joe started to ask, after every question, “What is it you’re asking me?” or “Can you say that again?” I believe it was his brain’s way of strategically buying a little time, letting the question sink in and offering a few extra seconds to search for the words to answer. Sometimes it worked. Most often after the question was repeated he would say “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re asking me.”
Although Joe found it almost impossible to answer questions, interestingly, he was totally able to initiate thoughts and get them out with almost perfect speech. He was very concerned about me reaching Graham, his Crispin Porter teammate, and was able to clearly and concisely tell me to call him to explain he couldn’t pick Graham up the following morning for their flight to Seattle.
Blood had been taken and results showed no drug use. He had been taken for a CAT Scan and there was no bleeding on the brain. By 10:30pm it was clear to the hospital staff that Joe’s condition was even more of a mystery. Around 11pm a doctor who introduced himself as “Ben” came in dressed in jeans, a plaid flannel shirt and leather boots – looking like he’d walked in straight from a hike. He introduced himself to me and Joe and sat down on the rolling chair. He asked Joe the same initial questions he’d already been asked by two dozen doctors and nurses prior and then said “Please repeat after me….A E I O U”. Joe asked him to repeat the question and after the second pass replied “A E I O”, forgetting the “U”. Ben said, “Repeat after me….No ifs ands or buts.” Joe again asked him to repeat it and his response was completely garbled. Joe, realizing he wasn’t saying the correct thing, tried again and Ben stopped him by putting his hand on Joe’s arm. Ben then said, “Joe, I believe you may have suffered a stroke tonight.”
In this moment my body felt empty. The calm I had been feeling changed to a sense of disbelief, bewilderment and fear. Joe didn’t understand the gravity of Ben’s comment and looked at me for clarification. With tears in my eyes I went to him lying there, grabbed his hand and said “Baby, you’re having a hard time with your language and they’re going to do some more tests. They think something might have happened in your brain tonight. Everything will be fine.”
My sister arrived shortly afterwards and she was the first person I shared the news with her. The word “stroke” felt erroneous and impossible. Since his open heart surgery he’d been seen by doctors consistently, was taking 2 baby aspirin daily, was in great shape and DAMMIT, he was only 38 frickin years old!!
Around midnight Robyn and I followed the nurse as she rolled Joe down to get a carotid ultra sound. By looking at the two large arteries in his neck (called carotid arteries) which supply your brain with blood doctors can tell whether plaque has narrowed them. The plaque can slow down or block the flow of blood through the artery, allowing a blood clot to form. A piece of the blood clot can break off and get stuck in the artery, blocking blood flow to the brain and thereby cause a stroke. The ultrasound showed no plaque build-up.
By 1:30am Joe was admitted to Exempla Good Samaritan Hospital and moved into his room on the 4th floor. Robyn said “goodbye” to Joe and said she’d wait for me out in the hall. I sat on Joe’s bed and looked in his eyes. He said “What is going on?” I said, “Honey, they think you might have had a stroke tonight. Your brain is not responding normally and they are going to do some more tests to help figure out what happened.” It was a tough “good bye” for both of us. I knew Joe was exhausted and needed sleep but was so confused about everything that was going on around him. I told him I’d be back by 7:30am the next morning.
After a few hours of sleep I showered and headed back to the hospital. I briefly spoke to the beautiful nurse who resembled Angelina Jolie (really!) named Trissi before going in his room. She told me Joe was taken for an MRI at 2:30am after I’d headed home. Results were still pending so I went inside Joe’s room to say “hi”.
He was awake and, although tired, he was already analyzing how his brain was – and was not – functioning like normal. I asked him to read the sign on the wall which had the 4-digit number for reaching the Kitchen on it. Instead of saying “Kitchen” he said “mitchek”. He caught himself immediately and said, “Ah, why did I say that? I know that’s not how you say that word”. I asked him to try again and he again said “mitchek”. After a third attempt he asked me to say the word and while looking intently at my lips saying “kitchen” he practiced a few times and finally said “kitchen”. It is a very distinct memory for both of us, him re-learning the word “kitchen” – just one of a million words Joe has had to re-learn…much like learning a new language where the rules, phonemes (meaningful sounds), syntax, and grammar need to be taught along with vocabulary.
For me, this first morning after the stroke proved to be the most relieving and most scary of my life. I was so comforted that Joe was showing great improvements already and – unlike many stroke patients – that he was not paralyzed. However, I was so unsure of how much of my husband that we’d lost. How much would his brain heal? Would he ever be able to speak effortlessly again? So many people have asked how I got through those first few months without going crazy. I took it day by day – and sometimes minute by minute. Joe was in there – we just needed to be patient enough to have him come back to us in his own time.
DID YOU KNOW?
Stroke is the third leading cause of death in the United States. Over 143,579 people die each year from stroke in the United States.
Stroke is the leading cause of serious, long-term disability in the United States.
Each year, about 795,000 people suffer a stroke. About 600,000 of these are first attacks, and 185,000 are recurrent attacks.
I was just finishing putting the boys down for just the second night in our new house and heard my cell phone ringing downstairs. I said “good night” to Miles and shut the door before heading downstairs to my phone: “Missed call – Joe cell”. I called him right back, “Hi babe. How did it go with the rug? Did you sell it?” From the other end I heard “Al, something is….I can’t….what is the….we need to call….” Just a series of short, unfinished thoughts. I actually thought my cell phone was cutting out so I started walking around the house, dodging boxes in every hallway, to find a good signal.
After hearing “Something’s wrong” for the third time I felt my heart racing and knew I needed to get to him. I grabbed my car keys (forgoing shoes in the middle of March) and jumped in the car. Joe wasn’t able to answer any of my questions… “Are you still at the rental house?” “If you are driving please pull over – I am on my way.” I think it took me a minute and a half to get to 450 Himalaya as I whizzed by other cars that were just cruising through the neighborhood at the 25 mile per hour limit. I was preparing myself to see Joe critically wounded, rationalizing that the reason he couldn’t answer me was that the man that came to buy our rug had physically harmed him.
I turned the corner and caught sight of our “old house” and Joe’s green Audi was parked in the driveway, the door open, Joe sitting in the driver’s seat. I threw the car into park and raced to him. I leaned down and gazed over his torso and legs and was relieved to not see any blood. I then looked in his eyes and saw confusion staring back at me. I began to ask the same questions to try to determine what I’d missed: “Does anything hurt?” “Did you meet the man for the rug?” “Baby, can you tell me what is going on?” Each time Joe was able to just get out a word or two…”Something’s wrong” or “We need to call Mike” or “I can’t remember…”. I touched his cheek and smiled, holding back tears. I told him it would be ok as I dialed 911 on my cell phone. He looked at me and very clearly said “Who are you calling?” I was surprised at the clarity of his question as he looked at me holding the phone to my ear and was just more confused that he had – what seemed like – a moment of clarity. While we were waiting for the ambulance I remember him looking down at his hand, holding his car keys. He looked at them with confusion, as though he didn’t know what they were for, and then gently placed them on the dash.
I then remembered that I had left Max and Miles at home asleep and needed to get someone over there. Luckily, in the 6 months we’d lived on Himalaya we had become friendly with a family across the street with two teenage daughters that often babysat the kids. Sven and Sue, their parents, are amazing people and I started looking up their home number. I asked Sven to come across to our house to get my garage door opener before heading to our new place to just be in the house until I had a better idea of what was going on. Sven and his youngest daughter Kirsty were running to us within seconds and as I turned around I saw the lights of the ambulance glowing behind them.
The paramedics’ team came up to Joe’s car to start assessing the situation. The first thing I was asked was his name and what happened. I explained the call I’d gotten and his inability to answer my questions. I was then asked if he had done any drugs. I told them "no" – that I had seen Joe just 30 minutes earlier at home before he left to meet a guy and his wife at 7pm to sell them a rug off Craig’s list.
The EMT team put Joe on a stretcher and I asked which hospital they were heading to. I realized that in addition to getting some shoes on, I would need to race home and get my wallet and Joe’s meds - not to mention making sure Sven, Sue and the girls were there with my kids. I left 450 Himalaya at 7:45pm and drove home quickly but surprisingly un-panicked. In retrospect I know I was unconsciously calmed by Joe’s composed and peaceful demeanor during the past 15 minutes and was figuring it couldn’t be a very big deal since he wasn’t in any pain or panic. There was never a look fear in his eyes – and it was a strange yet welcome sensation.
I expected to arrive at the hospital after the ambulance as they already had Joe inside when I left 450 Himalaya and assumed they would be leaving for Exempla within a minute or two. At 8:00pm I left the new house and surprisingly, as I made my way to Aspen Street, I met up with the ambulance coming out of the Country Estates development. There weren't any lights on and they were driving roughly 20 miles per hour. I was confused as to why they'd been at the 450 Himalaya address for the past 15 minutes and wondered why they weren't speeding to the hospital. I followed them while calling my sister Robyn to tell her what was going on. We arrived there at 8:10pm.
At 9pm I realized I would need to have someone take over at my house for Sven and his family. Robyn suggested that Heidi, my 22 year old sister, could come to the house after getting off work so she took over the babysitting duties while I stayed with Joe.
The first two hours in the Emergency Room, until about 10:30pm, were very confusing for everyone. Joe was alert and in no pain. When asked his name, birthday, address and today’s date he gave perfect answers. When asked who the president was he replied “Olama”. When asked what he had for lunch he said “Chicken sandwich”. Then in response to “Where did you eat lunch?” he said “Yes, I also had chips and a diet coke.” No matter how often he was asked where he’d eaten lunch, he could not clarify with a location.
As the questions got more detailed Joe started to ask, after every question, “What is it you’re asking me?” or “Can you say that again?” I believe it was his brain’s way of strategically buying a little time, letting the question sink in and offering a few extra seconds to search for the words to answer. Sometimes it worked. Most often after the question was repeated he would say “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re asking me.”
Although Joe found it almost impossible to answer questions, interestingly, he was totally able to initiate thoughts and get them out with almost perfect speech. He was very concerned about me reaching Graham, his Crispin Porter teammate, and was able to clearly and concisely tell me to call him to explain he couldn’t pick Graham up the following morning for their flight to Seattle.
Blood had been taken and results showed no drug use. He had been taken for a CAT Scan and there was no bleeding on the brain. By 10:30pm it was clear to the hospital staff that Joe’s condition was even more of a mystery. Around 11pm a doctor who introduced himself as “Ben” came in dressed in jeans, a plaid flannel shirt and leather boots – looking like he’d walked in straight from a hike. He introduced himself to me and Joe and sat down on the rolling chair. He asked Joe the same initial questions he’d already been asked by two dozen doctors and nurses prior and then said “Please repeat after me….A E I O U”. Joe asked him to repeat the question and after the second pass replied “A E I O”, forgetting the “U”. Ben said, “Repeat after me….No ifs ands or buts.” Joe again asked him to repeat it and his response was completely garbled. Joe, realizing he wasn’t saying the correct thing, tried again and Ben stopped him by putting his hand on Joe’s arm. Ben then said, “Joe, I believe you may have suffered a stroke tonight.”
In this moment my body felt empty. The calm I had been feeling changed to a sense of disbelief, bewilderment and fear. Joe didn’t understand the gravity of Ben’s comment and looked at me for clarification. With tears in my eyes I went to him lying there, grabbed his hand and said “Baby, you’re having a hard time with your language and they’re going to do some more tests. They think something might have happened in your brain tonight. Everything will be fine.”
My sister arrived shortly afterwards and she was the first person I shared the news with her. The word “stroke” felt erroneous and impossible. Since his open heart surgery he’d been seen by doctors consistently, was taking 2 baby aspirin daily, was in great shape and DAMMIT, he was only 38 frickin years old!!
Around midnight Robyn and I followed the nurse as she rolled Joe down to get a carotid ultra sound. By looking at the two large arteries in his neck (called carotid arteries) which supply your brain with blood doctors can tell whether plaque has narrowed them. The plaque can slow down or block the flow of blood through the artery, allowing a blood clot to form. A piece of the blood clot can break off and get stuck in the artery, blocking blood flow to the brain and thereby cause a stroke. The ultrasound showed no plaque build-up.
By 1:30am Joe was admitted to Exempla Good Samaritan Hospital and moved into his room on the 4th floor. Robyn said “goodbye” to Joe and said she’d wait for me out in the hall. I sat on Joe’s bed and looked in his eyes. He said “What is going on?” I said, “Honey, they think you might have had a stroke tonight. Your brain is not responding normally and they are going to do some more tests to help figure out what happened.” It was a tough “good bye” for both of us. I knew Joe was exhausted and needed sleep but was so confused about everything that was going on around him. I told him I’d be back by 7:30am the next morning.
After a few hours of sleep I showered and headed back to the hospital. I briefly spoke to the beautiful nurse who resembled Angelina Jolie (really!) named Trissi before going in his room. She told me Joe was taken for an MRI at 2:30am after I’d headed home. Results were still pending so I went inside Joe’s room to say “hi”.
He was awake and, although tired, he was already analyzing how his brain was – and was not – functioning like normal. I asked him to read the sign on the wall which had the 4-digit number for reaching the Kitchen on it. Instead of saying “Kitchen” he said “mitchek”. He caught himself immediately and said, “Ah, why did I say that? I know that’s not how you say that word”. I asked him to try again and he again said “mitchek”. After a third attempt he asked me to say the word and while looking intently at my lips saying “kitchen” he practiced a few times and finally said “kitchen”. It is a very distinct memory for both of us, him re-learning the word “kitchen” – just one of a million words Joe has had to re-learn…much like learning a new language where the rules, phonemes (meaningful sounds), syntax, and grammar need to be taught along with vocabulary.
For me, this first morning after the stroke proved to be the most relieving and most scary of my life. I was so comforted that Joe was showing great improvements already and – unlike many stroke patients – that he was not paralyzed. However, I was so unsure of how much of my husband that we’d lost. How much would his brain heal? Would he ever be able to speak effortlessly again? So many people have asked how I got through those first few months without going crazy. I took it day by day – and sometimes minute by minute. Joe was in there – we just needed to be patient enough to have him come back to us in his own time.
DID YOU KNOW?
Stroke is the third leading cause of death in the United States. Over 143,579 people die each year from stroke in the United States.
Stroke is the leading cause of serious, long-term disability in the United States.
Each year, about 795,000 people suffer a stroke. About 600,000 of these are first attacks, and 185,000 are recurrent attacks.
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