My "adventure" began on Sunday, December 4, 2005 at about 7:15 A.M.

Woke up feeling "off". My husband's cat liked to sleep up on my pillow, wrapped around my head...so at first, I thought she had gotten her claws tangled in my hair. After reaching up my hand and not feeling here there, decided that wasn't the problem. I had been lazy the night before, and didn't take my contact lenses out...so then thought maybe they were dried out and sticky (I could see just fine, but the odd feeling is what I was considering.). When I went to take out my contact, my hand was wobbly. I figured I was just tired, since I was barely awake, and managed to take it out. The other one wasn't so easy. Not being able to control my hand well, is what got me realizing something was wrong with me.

I don't remember if I tried waking up my husband, or finished taking out my contact lenses, first.
Anyway, he had his back turned to me, so I sort of floppy-hand slapped his shoulders because I couldn't quite do the typical shaking him awake. I tried to say "Bryan, something's wrong.", which of course didn't come out quite like that. It was more like "Bian, 'omin' wong"! He thought I was just having a nightmare, and ignored me, I guess since it was garbled like that. I kept slapping him (lightly, of course, as I couldn't have hit him even if I had wanted to). Finally he got up, but as per usual, just went into the bathroom to putter around...and he normally spends a good half hour in there!

So now I'm all by myself, feeling all sorts of weird. I didn't have a headache, I wasn't really dizzy, and I could see just fine (except for not having my contacts in anymore). The best way I can think to describe the sensation, is that reality seemed displaced, somehow.

Since I have heart problems, I knew about strokes in general. Of course, now I was quite scared. It wasn't the thought of dying from it, as that I'd have to be dependent on other people if it crippled me. I'm a very independent person, and the mere thought of not being able to do simple things like dressing or feeding myself, annoyed me just to imagine it. As I was still a bit groggy - both from it being 7:30 A.M., and the surreal feeling - I figured I better make sure of other symptoms, and tried to sit up. That didn't go so well!

Hefting myself up to sit, I just flopped over again the other way. After a couple times of getting up and ending sprawled on my side, I finally figured out I could prop myself up on my left arm/hand (which ironically was the numb side). Once I was decently upright and steady, I felt my face with my right hand, which still wobbled and wavered a bit, I realized my face was indeed numb. Oh joy...
And then I wet the bed. On purpose, though...I was certain I couldn't even walk to the bathroom if I had wanted to, and was giving other things too much concentration. So decided I'd just let it go, because I always have to pee when I get up, and my bladder was cramping.

By now, I'm a nervous wreck, and sobbing. My husband finally came out of the bathroom, to see why I was so frantic. I tried to tell him to go get my dad, since that's who I trusted most (my husband always underestimated my health, and always thought I was just being lazy and taking advantage, and making a big deal of everything all the time). I only remember that he said something that made me exasperated... wanted to wait if I got better, or something about him being able to handle it. So I finally told him just to call the hospital (which came out more like "hopital", because I couldn't say S's).

Now I was also nauseous. It could've been a combination of many things. I was also having a heart "attack" (atrial fribulation), which can upset my stomach, but I didn't realize it because I was so focused on what was going on with my head. Maybe it was also the stroke. And most likely at least the fact that I was full of anxiety.
My husband got the bucket we use to change aquarium water for me (after I had to ask him, despite my obvious (but apparently not so obvious) dry heaving). So I utilized that, while I waited for the paramedics to come. And of course since my husband never pays attention to my health condition, had to ask me things, to tell the dispatcher. I finally got him to just get my dayplanner, which has all my information on a paper in the front. Good thing I planned ahead! I actually did that, in case I passed out, but it worked for this instance, too.

When the paramedics finally arrived, I tried to tell them I was having a stroke. Which of course make out like "troke"! One of them said "You think you're having a stroke?" Both for clarification, and it seemed like he didn't believe me. They went about setting up a heart monitor, blood pressure, and told me they were going to test my blood sugar just to be sure it wasn't low and that's why I was feeling weird. I doubted it, and sort of whined a bit, but oh well...I guess it was a good precaution anyway. Was 116, which is a little surprising since I hadn't eaten in about 10 hours.

After they checked everything (and nobody bothered to ask me about my heart, which a year later I found out was going crazy! Maybe they just figured it was because I was upset), they had to pack me up and take me out to the ambulance. When they asked if I could walk, I really wanted to, but the simple act of standing up was difficult enough. So after barely two and very wobbly steps, I siiiighed and said 'no'. They couldn't get a stretcher inside because both our apartment is small and was very cluttered (my husband was an absolute slob, and I could never keep up with him trashing the place all the time). So they took a blanket and used it as sort of a hammock to carry me upstairs and to the ambulance.

I was awake and alert all the way to the hospital. I know I pestered the poor guys with many questions about what they were doing, how long it would take, and basically just wanting to be informed. I always get told not to worry about things... it's not worry, so much as curiosity and that I like to know what's going on with me.

At the hospital, the usual routine - check vitals, oxygen put on, ask me questions...which really weren't answered too well. The CT scan was when things 'stopped'. I remember going, and getting prepared. As I was sliding in, and saw the red light, figured that if I closed my eyes, it wouldn't freak me out so much. Then I konked out. I suppose it was both from being tired with all the excitement first thing in the morning, and it could very well have been simply the stroke's next symptom on me.

I was transfered to another hospital, but I'm not sure which one gave me the MRI... and I'm sort of glad I was unconscious, because those things are annoying! The hospital I went to, was the children's hospital. I had been going there for 21 years, and I guess they thought since I had been there so much, it was the best place to take me. Later, my doctor said they could've just taken me to the adult one, since she works at both (she's a pediatrician, but also works in the adult congenital clinic).

When I woke up in ICU around noon, I had no idea what time it was. I thought it was evening, since they had all the lights turned down low. But that also might have been to have a calming effect, or not have brightness glaring over people who might be sensitive to light. My husband and my dad were there. Our family friend was on her way. I don't remember if my dad called my sister, or she called him. I probably shouldn't have felt guilty, but I kept trying to apologize to my dad for the hassle. My dad said (at a later time) that I sounded drunk. Eventually I figured out that if I talked slow and quiet, it came out decently normal. Until then, I had the odd feeling that I needed to be louder than normal...not really shouting, but like talking to an older person - and also I think I as doing it too quick, but that might've just been from being anxious and wanting to say something before I wouldn't get a chance to.

My dad handed me the phone to talk to my sister, and I remember huffing a pout with "I can't!" and she heard me, so when I finally answered (after propping the phone on my pillow, because my right hand refused to keep it at my ear), she asked if I was okay. "No..." I whined. Then she asked if I wanted anything from the house, and of course it was words with a lot of S's! "My glasses from the sink in the bathroom" ended up more like "My 'hasses from'a 'hink in'a bafrume". Luckily, she figured out what I wanted, and later that night I could see decently again! One less thing to frustrate me!

Even though I was laying in a bed, I still had that "off" feeling. Like somebody was gently rocking the bed like a cradle. My right arm still wasn't very steady. I asked for a bedpan (which I hate doing!), and even just arching my back to get it under me, was a struggle.

The next morning, I woke up in a different place! Still ICU, but not such a secure level of it. Despite being slightly disoriented from that, I felt fine. It was Monday, and about 8:30, so I couldn't call work yet. Which might be a good thing, because then I could test out how well I was functioning now. Talking was okay, I wasn't woozy...overall felt just fine. My husband claims I was still 'off', but I figure since I dialed the number myself and if the secretary at work understood me, that I might as well consider myself recovered.

After 9:00 A.M., I called work (all by myself!), and talked to my boss. Told her I had a stroke the previous morning, and was still in the hospital, but I'd probably be back tomorrow (or so I hoped). Of course she wished me well, and said she'd tell my supervisor.

Later that day, I got moved upstairs to a regular room. Now that I felt just fine, I asked if I could leave tomorrow (Tuesday) and get back to work. I don't mind staying in the hospital, if it wasn't for the huge bill! So that's mainly the reason I wanted to go back to work. Plus, I felt guilty for leaving everybody else to take care of my stuff, too. The doctor said that possibly Wednesday, since there's a high risk of a second stroke in the 72 hours after the first.

Wednesday, I asked if I could go home. Nope, needed to do more tests (another MRI, which I was awake for, and got to actually experience for the first time. Soooo not like in the TV shows/movies!). Got informed of the new medicine I needed (Warfarin), and also had to have shots (Lovenox) for 2 weeks! These were also blood thinners, while the Warfarin levels got adjusted in my system. Two shots a day... in my fat. I blinked blankly at the nurse and said "What fat?" and laughed - as I only weigh 85 lbs (38.5kg).

Thursday afternoon...can I go home yet? No, of course not! More tests, more observation time. It wasn't until Friday morning, that it was decided I could be released. Then the paperwork took forever! Me and my dad waited around (he watched golf on TV, I read pamphlets about my heart condition...didn't learn anything new, but it was a bit less boring than golf!) until 4 P.M. By then, it was too late to stop by work, as I had wanted to. Oh well.

As far as I can tell (and officially documented in my medical records, from the neurologist), I have fully recovered. Sometimes I get easily distracted, and "bounce" from doing one task or flow of thought to another, which I don't think happened as much before. I get restless, and have to force myself to concentrate on, and finish a task, before doing something else. But as far as physical effects, I have no limitations (other than what my heart condition imposes). Of course, I am very grateful to be "whole", and realize that many people end up worse off than I, if I ever start to think my lot in life is bad.