Stroke Survival and Recovery

How one man’s recovery process may aid in the healing of others

By W. Thomas Smith Jr.

For weeks I’ve been considering, debating perhaps, the value of writing a piece about strokes (aka brain attacks) and stroke recovery: And generally speaking, would writing such a piece be worthwhile? Would others read it? Would others benefit from it? I’m not sure. But here’s hoping and here we go.

FIRST A LITTLE BACKGROUND: In May of this year, I suffered a severe stroke (multiple simultaneous sizable strokes actually): Severe in the sense of magnitude according to all the doctors, but absolutely survivable and deficit-recoverable which has amazed those same doctors – including my primary care physician, my neurologist, my hematologist, my cardiologist, and the many medical professionals who are among my friends and family.

After multiple CT scans and ultrasounds, an MRI, two heart-related procedures (one where they photographed the back of my heart and one where they implanted a permanent heart monitor in my chest), I was hospitalized for several days and only released from the hospital after ardently persuading the doctors to let me go, striving hard physically to bounce back while in the hospital, and assuring the doctors I would be well-taken care of at home. And of course they deemed that I was physically and physiologically able to function on my own. I won’t get into the details of what caused the stroke except to say it was blood related. I’m now being medicinally treated for it. The treatment is working according to the hematologist. My blood is looking good, and everyone says I will ultimately be fine.

But it has been – and will continue to be – a long recovery road before all my physical deficits return and a zillion time-consuming, occasionally stress-inducing outpatient visits.

The toughest struggles right now are – and have been – my ability to think and perform simple math computations in my head (of which I used to be really proficient), my ability to speak (which most people would never notice), my ability to process and answer questions, and the limitations related to the fine motor skills in my left hand among a few other things.

What else? Chronic fatigue. Unexpected emotional extremes (meaning I want to either cry, occasionally laugh at inappropriate times, or physically fistfight someone at the drop of a hat: But I am able to immediately recognize and control all of it). I also don’t process humor very well (I don’t understand jokes) and I get very angry when someone is impatient with me or sarcastic. I also feel a tremendous sense of guilt and shame (though I did not cause the strokes) and I feel that I am somehow less of a man because of my temporary deficits.

All of this is of course wrong thinking as a result of the physical damage which my brain has suffered.

The amazing multiple realities in all of this are that I am able to walk, talk, drive, work, attend most meetings, type (typing is still a bit of a struggle but I’m improving daily), read, listen, cognitively reason, enjoy all the seasonal football and basketball games I so-enjoy, and take care of all my everyday physical, administrative, and housekeeping needs as well as some of the needs of others. I go to the gym at least three times a week. I’m still far stronger on bench-press than the average athletically fit 25-year-old male (yet I’m a 65-year-old stroke survivor), but I get very winded, even light-headed if I push myself to the extreme, which I am prone to doing: I am, after all, a United States Marine Infantryman, and we Marines are a bit hard-headed.

How did I survive the strokes in the first place and why has my recovery trek gone so well? First I was working-out long before the strokes happened. For many years in fact: Weight-training, walking and hiking (I ran sprints and long distance as a young man), and working out with the speedbag (I was once considered to be “the fastest man on the speedbag” at the Downtown Columbia YMCA). ALL OF THAT and GOD: I regularly pray for myself and for others. God delivered me and He continues to deliver me daily from the ravages of the strokes. And I will never take any of that for granted.

According to the American Stroke Association (ASA) and all of my doctors, the aforementioned feelings of guilt and shame are normal as are the unexpected emotional extremes (which I’ve been very successful at masking), the chronic fatigue and all of the other deficits.

So how does a stroke survivor combat these things? The ASA tells us to get to the gym (no question about that, even when we don’t feel like it). Get lots of sleep (essential). Keep a journal (a great idea), and pray constantly (absolutely). The ASA also says: “Avoid self-judgment” and “affirm yourself with positive statements.”

These very same demands are regularly reiterated by my good friend Bruce Brutschy, a well-known fitness instructor and 10th-degree Black Belt.

My lifelong family friend Ethel Davis tells me her husband John (who by the way is a retired Columbia business leader, an Army veteran, my ever-tough boss when I was a teenager, and today an 85-year-old stroke survivor) says: “I just let the good outweigh the bad. I trust in the Lord. I count my blessings. I find joy and I greet each day with a smile and an I-can-do-this attitude.”

Perfect words from a model leader. And that’s how we mitigate our own suffering through it all and set the example for others who are suffering or as my dear friend from church Dawn Curtis Juchum reminds me: “So many who are suffering in silence with debilitating conditions.”

I’ve also come to the conclusion – like I have in so many other challenging evolutions in my life – maybe God had me experience this stroke and all the variables associated with it so that I might encourage others experiencing something similar.

Granted, it’s hard, but God is good. And that’s not some simple platitude. Yes, of course I deal with bouts of depression – the VA had diagnosed me with post-traumatic stress disorder years before my stroke, so I well-know the symptoms of the kind of depression unique to that disorder – but I don’t sulk. I don’t really know how to sulk. I get frustrated and I experience the proverbial dark cloud. But sulking is not in my makeup. Instead I look for some level of sunshine or I try to generate something good at the simplest level. Also, I never question God’s purposes in my life, and I would never ask: “Why me?” Fact is: WHY NOT ME?

What would possibly lead me or anyone else to believe I (we) should suffer less than anyone else? How self-absorbed would that be? My take is, as I’ve expressed many times before, far better this happened to me than to someone else. Why? Because maybe I can deal with the experience and they can’t.

Naturally no one wants to suffer, but no one is immune to suffering either. We all suffer and we all ultimately will suffer. Christ Himself suffered, and to an infinitely greater degree than any of us might ever imagine. Thinking now of His deep despair in the Garden of Gethsemane and the terrible physical suffering that followed. But that’s another story.

Anyway, the point in all of this is to perhaps provide something of a quick narrative guide to help mitigate the suffering that we will all face in this life. Remember, “Be prepared” as many of us were taught in Boy Scouts. Be as physically fit as we possibly can be before we are struck (eat well and get to the gym). Encourage others in their own suffering always, and also be willing to encourage ourselves. Lastly and most importantly, give all of it to God. How do we give these things to God? 1 Thessalonians 5: 17 tells us: “Pray without ceasing.”

 

– W. Thomas Smith Jr. is a formerly deployed U.S. Marine infantry leader and a New York Times bestselling editor. Visit him online at http://uswriter.com.