A Stroke of Luck

It has been exactly four months since I was diagnosed with a stroke. “Stroke” is a scary word, conjuring up images of death or profound disability. My primary care doctor said, “With your type of stroke, if the clot goes one way, you have a minor stroke. If it goes the other way, you die. Luck of the draw.” While I prefer to see myself as more blessed than lucky, the fact remains that I am grateful to be here to discuss my condition. It could have been otherwise.

However, I did not just have a stroke. It was induced. A medical error. It all started when I decided to have a bunch of cardiac tests, because it had been a while. So I had the CAT scan, the sonogram, and so on. All showed no problem. However, a nuclear stress test resulted in just a smidgen of angina toward the end. Ever careful (or ever eager to ring up more fees) the cardiologist suggested an angiogram. While she was in there, she discovered a couple of partial blockages in my heart arteries. So she decided to place a pair of stents — and apparently jarred loose some plaque, and gave me a stroke. I sill always wonder how I would have fared if I’d just left well enough alone before the angiogram.

To make matters worse, there were no doctors in the recovery room to check me over when I came out from under the ether. If there had been, they would have seen that the right side of my face was drooping, and that my speech was slurred. But I didn’t feel bad, and I attributed my symptoms to the left over effect of the relaxing agent they’d used for the surgery.

Twenty-four hours later, my speech was still slurred, and I was exhibiting other symptoms. So I called the cardiologist. She pooh-poohed my concerns. “You sound like you always sound,” she said. This, though she had only spoken to me twice, and that rather briefly. I’m pretty in touch with my body, so I insisted something was wrong. She relented, and said to go the emergency room. An MRI there confirmed that I’d had a stroke. You know how you’re supposed to get medical care immediately at the onset of stroke symptoms? Every minute counts. The longer you wait to seek treatment, the greater the chance of permanent injury or death. But because I initially thought my symptoms were due to the relaxing agent, I waited for 24 hours. Not recommended.

By the way, memorize the acronym BE FAST. B is for balance; is it off? E is for Eye; can the person see out of both eyes? F is for Face; is it drooping? Mine was. A is for arms; ask them to lift both arms high, and see if one drifts downward. S is for speech; are they having trouble talking? I clearly was. The final T is for time; as in, if someone has even one of these warning signs, it’s time to call 9-1-1.

I am mostly recovered. After weeks and weeks of speech therapy, physical therapy, visits with the neurologist, visits with the primary care doctor — I tell you, I don’t want to see another medical professional for at least two years. The effect on me was not subtle. I tired easily and slept a lot. I could drive after a few days, and did okay, though I took the turns inexplicably wide for a few weeks.

I’ve also lost about twelve pounds, mostly muscle mass, due to inactivity. I don’t slur much, but I sometimes can’t recall common words that I usually know quite well. And I sometimes confuse my right hand for my left, which affects everything from my MMA sparring to my ability to play the piano. Those last two things are probably the most frustrating for me. I make a lot more typos that I used to, and can’t type a password correctly to save my life. I had to make a list of them so I could paste them into the password field. But most people don’t see that stuff. In fact, as long as I’m not too tired, most people who don’t know me well can’t tell there’s anything wrong with me. And when I am tired, I can just say little and be thought wise!

I’m going to return to preaching and teaching in another month or two, and to teaching my financial seminars. We’ll see how that goes. But however it goes, I’m just grateful to be alive!

Meanwhile, after months of research, I have become quite the contrarian when it comes to conventional wisdom about cardiovascular and metabolic health. A lot of medical treatment is about treating symptoms, rather than the underlying problems. And a lot of doctors regurgitate what they learned in medical school, long after some of those ideas have been debunked, or at least called into question. So while I’m grateful for doctors, and I still follow some of their advice, I no longer do so blindly. But that’s a topic for another day.

In the meantime, I’m all about living in the present, as we are none of us promised tomorrow. So I’m practicing my piano, taking long rides just because, and working on the third installment of my novel with an eye toward having it done my 12/25/2025 Forward!.