STROKE and BEYOND 12

Adversity is a fact of life. It can't be controlled What we can control is how we react to it.

We were at a Fight Night Event and I was quite concerned. Our son had a difficult match. His opponent was good; he was being trained by a very knowledgeable fight crew, a very experienced International fighter and was definitely a very experienced fighter himself. Our son hadn’t been following my training requirements, he was unable to concentrate fully and his fitness level was down. We couldn’t afford this sort of distraction.

We were in the Rules Meeting for the mandatory reading of the Rules and Regulations. Only five (5) minutes in I had this ‘IMMENSE’ whack of a headache come over me, which actually brought me to my knees. Quickly I put my hands over my face till it seemed to pass.

Continued the rest of the meeting on my knee’s to appear normal till the meeting was finished, then out for a quick smoke or 2 to get me feeling better again, had no Aspirin handy but I felt ok, just still the head-ache. Just the stress of the day I thought. Knew something was out of the ordinary pre-fight, almost wore a punch, and I had a glancing blow attempting to warm up one of our fighters for his fight. I had to request one of the other fighters to assist. My reflexes were way out for some reason.

Our son’s fight had come round, I already had cornered 2 of our fighters, and it was fairly stressful. People don’t realize the stress we (trainers/corner) are constantly under. A lot of the fighter’s success depends if we, the Coach/ Trainer, prepared them enough, both physically and mentally.

Round 1

I was in our son’s corner; the fight plan wasn’t being followed. He was getting frustrated by his opponent. The Round 1 bell sounded the finish; I quickly jumped up into the ring, grasping the bottom rope and swinging myself up …. , or I tried to.

My legs weren’t working!

In my haste and initial confusion at being unable to firstly swing up and into the ring, then hearing a judge exclaim ‘fair go Mick’, I realized I had pulled a leg across their table scattering everything, paperwork, trophy's everything. Kneeling I tried to motivate my son for the next round. ‘Corners out’ the time call from the Referee, I seemed ok, jumped down from the ring to land on my hands and knees, still very unsteady, having to use my hands to balance holding the edge of the Ring.

‘What is happening, I’m too busy for this!’

After the fight we walked out to the car, had recovered to be able to function again though still feeling weak and weary, and drove home. I was still very whacked around but I wasn’t the one needing attention. My son had lost in the 2nd round and he needed some help. Some better pain killers and I was right, well sort off.

So this was a TBI (mini) Stroke, or the Doctor’s think it may have been. I had had this similarly happen to me before, it was only over working myself, too much stress, just train more, keep hydrated, cut down on my work load, or so I told myself.

I was healthy.....-ish. I trained twice a week, Brazilian Jui Jitsu, and coached the Mixed Martial Art’s class. This involved Boxing, Muay Thai, Wrestling and Grappling. Very high Cardio training, couldn’t do that if you weren’t fit, or so I thought.

I was only 51, used to out train the other students, they were in their 20s, and I was proud of that. OK, I was drinking too much coffee, smoking a bit too much, but I didn’t drink alcohol, sure my days were long, and pressure/stressful anything from 10 hours and up, 7 days a week, but so was everyone.

Besides once I had it right I would cut the work load back, I had promised myself this. This was the main reason of taking on this promotion role. Once everything was all settled all would be ok, just had to continue till then.

Woke up Sunday, had slept in a fair bit, and must have been tired, I wasn’t worried, I was always tired. That’s what V’s and Red Bulls were for, them and good strong Coffee. A few coffee’s later and all was well. Back to work.

5th December 2011, 3 am – Awakened with an urgent urge to go to the bathroom. Was feeling very crook, very nauseated. Pulled the sheet off, and went to get out of bed, fell straight down on the floor, my legs had given way but I knew I had to get to the toilet, and quickly. Luckily we had an unsuite toilet/shower, only had to cover three (3) meters.

After some dragging and the vomiting, on my knees, cleaning up, I managed to crawl, drag myself back to the bed.

I woke my wife and told her - 'ichjlk muum hes' or ‘I couldn’t feel my legs!’ thankfully she understood immediately something was wrong.

Then it hit me!!!

Massive, massive pain, I never want to have that again!

My wife quickly called an Ambulance; our son was on his mobile phone to the Poison’s Information regarding my situation. (I had taken natural health sleeping tablets prior and we were not sure about them.) I knew nothing as the extricating, massive pain just continued. I became aware I was being helped and held over the toilet, must have been sick again, by this time I was lapsing in and out of consciousness. The Ambulance Paramedic’s couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me, did I require urgent Hospital, or maybe it would wait till tomorrow.

Umm, just maybe, the use of the F.A.S.T. test might have given clues. ie: Lack of leg function, lack of arm function, lack of speech.

The ambulance personnel were trying to talk to me. I couldn’t comprehend what they were saying amidst the commotion and everything else, all the pain. They took me to the toilet where I was once again sick, tried again to get me to stand then I remember faintly being taken to the ambulance. They did originally try to assist me to walk, didn’t help as I had no arm, leg function to contribute with.

The F.A.S.T. test is a simple Australian Nationally recognised Stroke Test;

F – face; Check their face. Has their mouth drooped? ;

A – arms; Can they lift both arms? ;

S – speech; Is their speech slurred? Do they understand you? ;

T – time; Is critical. If you see any of these signs, emergency straight away

After . . . , my wife was to tell me the Ambulance Paramedic’s figured I was either suffering from maybe drugs, or was drunk. No smell of alcohol possible though as I drank very rarely and very little. Their advice was to take me to the Doctor in the morning if I wasn’t better. Luckily for me she insisted that I be hospitalized! Even this was quite difficult as the Ambulance personnel were adamant the Hospital trip would not be necessary, be better to allow me to sleep ‘it off’ and see the Doctor the next day.

My wife knew something was definitely wrong and completely out of character for me and thankfully kept demanding I be taken to Emergency. A quick trip to Hospital later, we only lived 10 minutes away, I was passed out by now, unconscious.

Again I have to say maybe, just maybe, the use of the F.A.S.T. test might have given some clues to the Ambulance Personnel. Lack of leg function, lack of arm function.

Do not automatically trust others, supposedly the Experts, the Highly Trained, to be the knowledgeable ones!

They had me in a bed at the Hospital Emergency, a visiting Stroke Surgeon was walking past, and he looked, and exclaimed ‘he’s having a Stroke!

I was on a bed being transported to the CT scan (Computed Tomography) room. I remember seeing other patients in the Waiting Room and I gave them a smile, a reassuring wave and said I wouldn’t be long. The technician ‘orderly?’ had me transferred to another bed, told me not to move then began with the C.T.. I must have moved as he again was repeating to me ‘to stay still’. I started convulsing, tried to control it, heard the technician say – ‘it is important for you to stay still!’ followed by – ‘you’re having …… something’. Urgently they wheeled me somewhere, I remember seeing all the other waiting people, I said – ‘all’s ok’ and gave them the thumbs up, or so I thought! Then nothing. I was taken back again later for another C.T. scan, this time with Velcro straps attached to stop the moving. I don’t like being held constrained like this, thankfully it was done quickly, then back to sleep.

Official summarily 06/12/2011

‘On examination he was noted to have Ataxia, Vertigo, Dysarthria and right sided Horner’s sign. C.T. brain showed Superior Cerebellar Infarct. A few hours post-admission his GCS decreased and he had extensive posturing. Brought into the Operation Theatre for a Tracheotomy with External ventricular drain insertion. (Sound’s fairly intense) Bilateral Infarct (Blood Clot) both sides of the Cerebellum, Hydrocephalus (increased pressure) had to be drained. Damage to the Brain Stem resulting in severed nerves.’ Prognosis’s looked poor; however he made a good recovery and transferred to the Stroke Ward once he was more stable. He required NG feeding and Tracheotomy for a few weeks.’ MRI brain 13/12/2011 confirmed Bilateral Cerebellar Infarct and Ischemia at Brain Stem.

YES, ‘A FEW HOURS’, just ‘A FEW HOURS’……… Again I have to say maybe, just maybe, the use of the F.A.S.T. Stroke test might have given some clues.

I was in the Coma (Induced), I was having a very real, very vivid evil, weird and terrifying experience. I was being countlessly hunted and trapped, tricked by these really evil, bad people who were going to kill me, but first it was to trick, deceive and then trap me. We were in a town being hunted, fire was everywhere, and then somehow I knew I was in the safety of a ‘Safe house’. The knowledge of being moved from Safe House to Safe House, kind people helping me, all around was danger and I was unable to do anything. I could only lie in the bed and hear, watch them. I vaguely remember a younger female saying to an older female that she would get me ready, then the older lady said – ‘no, not yet’

Another experience – I was on a multi capsule craft in space, all these different ‘compartments’ with each one a entirety but also a section of the next, and we were hovering over Earth. The feeling was one of beauty, safe, I was being shown round by an elderly father figure from compartment to compartment, gave me a lot of information, eventually we met up with a dark skinned female, full of love, who asked if I wanted to leave with her? I was very tempted, the feeling of kindness, calm, peacefulness and loving, though I wanted to check first if it was ok with my wife. I recollect asking my wife if I should go, and her saying – ‘if that is what you want to do’. I knew she was only saying that to be kind to me and didn’t really want me to go, so I didn’t.

I am not a religious person; I was discussing these experiences with a person who had previously heard of such things, suggested maybe the drugs, they knew of a similar experience as the 1st of the 2. The 2nd experience, maybe ‘reincarnation’ I’ve been told. Who knows? ……

Don't wish me happiness - I don't expect to be happy it's gotten beyond that, somehow. Wish me courage and strength and a sense of humour-I will need them all.

Anne Morrow Lindbergh

I.C.U. (Intensive Care Unit)

My wife, and our two,(2) children (adults) had to sit in meetings with the Medical staff , that is the Surgeons, the Nurses, and all/any of other attending staff, discussing my possible decease, or worst, if I was allowed to continue on Life Support. The Medical outlook advice was poor and it was doubtful if I could or would survive.

Sharyn, my wife, felt that I was being under-estimated and urged I should be allowed more time, more opportunity to recover.

It was felt if I did survive, that as a result of the injury, I would be severely brain damaged. Sharyn refused to believe this and requested for me to be given more time.

‘’Brain Stem Death is defined by the absence of reflexes with pathways through the Brain Stem in a deeply comatose, ventilator-dependent patient. Identification of this state carries a very grave prognosis for survival; cessation of heartbeat often occurs within a few days although it may continue for weeks or even months if intensive support is maintained.’’

I was placed into an induced Coma, with Life Support, ventilator, heaps of tubes and such. Because of the time I was in the Coma (I wouldn’t / couldn’t respond, or come out/wake up), for a couple of weeks I wasn’t given much chance of coming out ok, or even sort off ok.

I do recall the intimidating sensation of fighting my way through a constricting omnipresent adhesive like force, the unrelenting constrains forcing me to move laboriously, the torment and the sluggishness, a difficult episode.

Two (2) weeks later I awoke to the pain of a nurse squeezing my fingernail, followed by more noise and sharp pain. I fell asleep again.

A nurse recognised I was attempting to speak, asking to be placed next to a window. She organised it, I don’t remember this happening though I am thankful.

Our daughter knew of my love of music and suggested making up a compilation on a MP3 which I could listen to, maybe this was a help to me.

Must have awoken to consciousness satisfactorily as I was

soon announced as stabilized and arranged for a transfer

to the ICU Stroke Ward.

ICU Stroke Ward

I had awoken to the discomfort of my nose being messed with. Found a tube was inserted in my nose, so I started carefully pulling it out. Almost had it out, I could feel it in my chest now. A Nurse checking on me saw what I was doing. ‘’Now you can put it back straight back in!’’ she directed me in a Matron’s, ‘don’t mess with me’, voice tone. Off-course I had it out by then, ‘’Put it back in, swallow it, it will go down, just keep on swallowing’’ I was instructed firmly, I did as I was told. No more pulling tubes out!

I had found out this was the Stroke Ward for ICU. All my Life Support’ stuff was slowly being removed, excellent. ‘‘I’ll be back training soon’’ I recall thinking at the time.

My wife was actually requested by her employer to provide a Medical Certificate as she had to take time off from her work to be with me. Human Resources, HR, are interesting. A call from the ICU to the HR explaining the function of the ICU was insufficient, had to be a 'authorized' letter.

I was progressing nicely, asked if I could have my wife escort me downstairs for a view and fresh air. It was agreed that this would be beneficial to me; not to eat food though; I was a choking hazard. Into the wheelchair, strapped the drip on, along with my catheter; and off we went.

Downstairs, I managed to ‘sign’ for a cigarette, Sharyn initially said ‘’no’’ but how could she refuse, ahh, the sweet taste of nicotine. Not quite what they had in mind for me.

We thought a coffee would be ok, but there was no way possible for a hot or even warm coffee. Consequently a milk coffee appeared to offer me the fulfilment; this was not the best drink though. I couldn’t drink it, had coffee down my front, I was a mess. Luckily none was swallowed and choking was averted.

Whilst recovering at the ICU Stroke Ward we were approached by the medical staff for me to be assessed for transferring to the Rehabilitation Hospital.

A Physiotherapist tried to get me to stand; I managed to, sort-of stand, by leaning my legs against the bed. Everybody took their hands off me once I appeared to have supported myself, abruptly I fell over! We had forgotten about the balance issue!

I passed the Assessment and arrangements were being made for my transfer to the Rehabilitation Hospital, and goodbye to the ICU unit.

An ambulance transported me to the Rehabilitation Hospital, on a stretcher; I remember seeing the Ambulance personnel but that was it then. I was asleep for the move.

Woke up in my new ward.

Rehabilitation

The rehabilitation therapy was fun, well sort-off; first being pushed everywhere in the wheelchair and some physiotherapy initially. Everyone appeared sad, serious, and then others with false joy. Did a fair amount of basic Core leg work, leg raises and the like, I eventually graduated to a ‘Gutter Frame’. I hated it, made you look so invalid. Walked the Parallel Rails quite often, enjoyed them and the stairs; you could actually see your improvement.

The Physiotherapist’s said they would have me walking again in 8 weeks! The first of many false promises. At the time this was an excellent forecast, wish it had been truthful. Then we were trying to get me walking around with them supporting my body under each arm. Yep, 8 weeks ehh?

Don’t recall much of the Activities while I was an In-patient. I do recall an activity where I was being taught to ‘make’ a display board by gluing paddle pop sticks to a board. I disliked this ‘demeaning’ task. To me it was so backward. The Instructor did ask if I would like to try some Wood Work to which I had replied ‘’No’’. (I don’t like Wood Work, never have) My answer of no was ignored, ‘’let’s have a try then’’, I remember that comment!

Another person – I queried if I was to ever walk again? ‘’no, you have had nerves in your Brain Stem damaged, the nerves will take years just to grow back, probably looking at 2mm growth a year.’’

What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything?

Used to ‘pretend’ to fall, this caused consternation to my physiotherapist’s. In the case of a patient having an accident a small mountain of paperwork is needed to be filled out.

Because of the Dysphagia I was on a liquid diet only, I couldn’t handle thick or solids. Had difficulty with swallowing, I would simply choke. Even my tablets had to be ground up and mixed with some yogurt, this connotation tasted terrible! Strangely I could not swallow milk or ice cream, though yogurt was safe. No imagination was used in foods, or the types of food for people in my situation. Suggestion; buy a blender and just blend our foods instead of the ‘approved’ stuff.

Eventually I was given permission to try a thickened diet at the Dining Room. We trialled the thickened food initially in my bed, was given the go ahead by all the Staff, and approval for the Dining Room. Next morning, transferred to my wheelchair and I was pushed into the Dining Room for breakfast. This was an exciting moment for me. The Orderly who pushed me parked my chair next to the entrance door, said something to me and walked off. After a few minutes I guessed it was a ‘Self-Serve’, wheeled myself to the counter and tried to ask for some breakfast. The Counter Attendant had no idea what I was trying to say, he obviously couldn’t speak ‘Dysphagia’. The Orderly arrived and saved the day, he was updating my ‘Dining Admission’ and seating. I was wheeled to an empty table, chastised for leaving where he had left me, the Orderly told me to stay at the table and he would grab me some breakfast. He quickly returned, probably concerned I might have scurried away, carrying a breakfast tray, a bowl of porridge, (I dislike porridge), and a sealed container of fruit juice! So this was breakfast.

Family visits

Family visits, every afternoon my family would come to visit, I eventually thought I had regained enough strength to explore the Visiting Garden Area and with the appropriate approval we ventured out. I quickly discovered that concrete pathways were far different in gradient to the levelled linolined tiles of the Hospital hallways. I had regained some strength in my arms; however I speedily discovered what little strength I had regained was insufficient to propel myself on the wheelchair. Strength and breathing practises were needed.

Smoko Time

I do remember some of the other patients going out for a smoke, and the harassment they received on their return. ‘Don’t they (the staff) realize that the more they said ‘No’ the more determined the others would be, a normal reaction? So I had to join the smokers, we would go out onto the designated ‘visitors’ veranda. That was until someone complained, then the Talbot banned smoking altogether. We just had to move location, find a spot in the gardens. 6 or so of us, Stroke Survivors and Amputees, in our wheelchairs, wheeling along in a line! Nobody knew what we were going off for! Or so we imagined. The exercise and independent thinking was good rehabilitation and therapy though! Then eventually this was caught out and banned too. We were given a spot across the road next to the large waste bins.

Every accomplishment starts with the decision to try

Another challenge! To get there, the Smoking Area, you had to wheel out of the Ward, down the ramp, negotiate the sloping roadside gutter, cross the road, then just wheel another 10 meters. The gutter was the worst, had to approach it from an angle, one wheel at a time, so you didn’t overbalance. And the amount of traffic visiting a hospital, yes we do take a while to cross the road in wheelchairs. Sometimes the car drivers over-estimated our prowess and abilities in moving quickly. We were still all learners! Took a while and a lot of effort, I figured it would be easier to just hit it backwards with my larger rear wheels. So I tried it! Rolled down the ramp, hit the gutter, keeping my wheels straight, leaning forward to counter weight, and then cross the road in reverse, easy, however must have been a sight! Heard a few gasps and exclamations, but it worked.

Another time I was abused by someone driving by, I almost hit the car, no registration or insurance on a wheelchair!

Whenever Sharyn (my wife) came, every day, I would ask to be taken out to the gardens. It was nice, the privacy and a relaxing coffee and smoke. The Security warned me of smoking not being permitted on the Hospital grounds, several times.

We would close the visit by me standing, holding her, something we have done for years. It took me quite a while to be able to stand, the leg muscles had to be ‘woken-up’ but I was fairly determined to hold my lady. Even though I wasn’t really ‘standing’, more leaning, back of my thighs against the bed, we made it happen. I had learnt by trial and quite a few errors if I ‘locked’ my knees and consequently my legs, pulled my upper body round so I could slide of the bed, I could ‘stand’ sort-off. Except if I leaned a fraction forward, then I would do a face plant on the floor. This made the Nurses look in amazement, my balance, standing strength, the possible risks. This is what you do though, we never thought about it.

You have not changed

You are still you, a husband, and a father

I was told this repeatedly – I knew this was wrong though. I have changed, my physical ability, my personality, my brain has been damaged. Now I think different, I feel different. I have changed. Only someone who has never been involved in a trauma would say this, t’s supposed to be reassuring, however I found it insulting.

Sharyn (my wife) was visiting me in the Ward, we had a ‘difference’, an argument, I said ‘’that’s it! I’m leaving’’, with that I crawled off the bed, pulled myself into the wheelchair and proceeded to wheel myself out. Then realization hit me! ‘’Sharyn’’ I called out; I had realized – I’m an idiot and anyway where was I going to go? Sharyn had followed me and was right behind me.

Home Visit

I was given permission to be allowed a home visit. Only for the day though, around 10am to 6pm. My wife, Sharyn, and our son, Leigh came and collected me. Arrived home and our daughter, Jessica, had the house ‘wheelchair-ready’ for me. Plenty of space, everything valuable put away. The day was very enjoyable. I believe all I did for the majority of the time was sit out back on the Patio and drink ‘home made’ chicken & corn soup, Sharyn makes the best chicken & corn soup.

I know it was extremely difficult to face the trip back to the Rehabilitation Hospital.

Nurse Strike

The Hospital brought in casuals, I had this bloke with no previous knowledge of me, my wife used to bring in my food (meals) and I kept them in a ‘patient’s fridge ‘supplied for that purpose. He didn’t know about it and I wasn’t able to speak clear enough to be understandable. He tried to feed me the hospital mash, I couldn’t eat solids (Dysphagia) and of course I refused. He even tried holding my nose shut! A trick my Mother used to do when I was a kid. Didn’t work then, didn’t’ work this time either. He made a point of writing my refusal into his notebook.

Another - a friend had brought in a fruit plate, his wife had made up, and we had

to put it in the fridge, and then it was tossed, somehow…..

‘Lacks insight into limitation (disability) resulting in impulsive behaviour at times.’

In my discharge report

I knew what I was capable of, Life is Risk, simple, you do need to step forward some of the times, plus I just liked to push the buttons and see the reaction. I have always refused to ‘accept’. Something they didn’t seem to appreciate; besides it was fun to see their reactions. ‘Limitations’ are NOT something I have ever believed in, I don’t accept Limits.

Speech Support Group

My Speech was slowly coming back, to a degree. Speech was very difficult, very tiring, and my tone would go up and down. One moment normal, then raised, then whisper. Also had to choose between breathing and talk. I learnt to breathe in and then speak, trouble was I would run out of air and end up whispering. The process of Speech is 1. Think of the sentence;

2. Say the sentence in your mind; 3. Breathe in; 4. Breathe out and Speak. And hopefully the correct noise comes out! Sometimes the brain gets a tad confused and substitutes words! Still slow and I did slur a fair bit.

A strange affair this grouping, supposed to be for Speech Therapy, though it did remind me of the movie, ‘One flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest’. We even

had a Martinet Nurse to direct us, and to keep us in order. I didn’t like the Group; everyone gave the impression of having ‘accepted’ their disability, to my way of thinking then, ‘defeatist’. They had been disabled for a number of years, 5, 6, 10, 15 etc, no way was this for me! I was reprimanded for referring to a couple old guys’ as ‘old’. Well they were ‘old’, it was never meant as disrespect, just descriptive, even respectful. As I explained after the ‘table’ reprimand, they should be proud of their years, the experience and experiences, not hide them.

Every now and then the Nurse would encourage us to sing, a supposedly good therapy. This particular day was the song ‘Yesterday’, the old Beatles hit, came to the line ‘’I’m half the man I used to be’’ and all the men faltered. Then further in the song, ‘’why she had to go ….’’, yep, ideal for support. I almost burst out with a laugh, maybe should have re-thought that pick. On my last visit before we moved I presented a large card to the group

thanking them. The Group had helped me. I had written a small piece and

finished with ‘I came asking Why; I leave knowing It Is’, it was how I felt.

Boxing Glove and Stamp Album

Members would bring items we thought may be of interest to the other

members of the Support group and give a small explanation talk about them. I thought one of my old sparring boxing gloves and for something of real interest one of my Stamp Albums, be a great contrast ! I was originally introduced into the Support Group with an emphasis on my

‘fighting’ background, the glove fitted that description, and the Stamp Album completely threw everyone, the fact I was into stamps, especially stamps

that were different from the normal. It was quite interesting to discuss both of the items, everyone tried on the glove off-course, they had difficulty trying to comprehend a person can enjoy the ‘Brutal’ Art’s and be articulated enough to speak intelligently on Stamp Collecting.

I appreciate observing people, their manner of movement; their thinking

process. It can and does get me in trouble occasionally though. The Support

Group offered an opportunity to perceive the different way of thinking.

Different age generations gives a much different thought process and

therefore, view. Now not only the age, but also the Stroke experience presented me with an alternative perspective. Some of the group knew I was analysing and gave their altered appearances though over time their true personalities showed.

Psychologist

Had an appointment with the Psychologist; she was a young 20- 30 year old, looked very much like she had never experienced real life, plenty of textbook life I gauged. This young ‘gal’ asked me open questions in an attempt to build a speaking relationship. I attempted to answer truthfully, openly and seriously, but eventually I couldn’t help myself; being obviously ‘open’ questioned and her trying to sell me the ‘Self Help’ stuff. It was a tad too much. I learnt her background; she was an Assistant to the Psychologist, she conducted the initial interviews and placed them in a grading system for the Psychologist. Was disappointing, I was hoping for some useful guidance; needed some back then. One of the problems of having a Coaching and Trainer background is knowing beforehand when the motivational talk is happening

.

Self-Worth

One of the best practises I was to discover was the removal of your Self-worth image. Everything was assumed to be too difficult or a risk for you to attempt most was too. Maybe because of time or the perceived difficulty involved, ‘the’ patient is always told of the negatives if they were to attempt anything, better to allow the professionals (nurses).

Easier to relax and allow another to do it, this removes the fear and possible feeling of guilt for making a mistake, or a mess. Needless to say this attitude did cramp my mind however I did find a way around it most times. Just try and do it anyway!

How to (NOT) build pride!

Every morning the ‘female’ nurse would wake us up, get you into the bathroom, and have you go to the toilet, then a shower, all the time supervising you, yes, watching. Yep, the way to build a man’s confidence in himself, Great!

Understandably, the supervision is a necessity, the ‘how’ is wrong though.

Dishonourable Discharge

This place, the Rehabilitation Hospital, was not for me, enough was enough, time to leave. I had been here for almost a month and I felt I wasn’t progressing fast enough, that and the added fact one of the guys had affections for me. It was just to ‘controlled’. Everything was disciplined, rules and regulations, not my Life Style. So I came to a decision, when Sharyn came I would leave, discharge myself, go home. Didn’t realize what I was planning was unacceptable and unheard of.

Sharyn arrived, we spoke for a while, and then I advised her of my decision to leave. Sharyn couldn’t understand me wanting to leave the security and professionalism of the Rehabilitation Hospital for the possible risks at home.

We advised the Receptionist Nurse of my intention of leaving; my going home and we were told promptly in no uncertain terms that this was not permissible. This was waving a Red flag at me, ‘not permissible’ indeed.

A Doctor suddenly appeared; again advising this was a highly unregular request and just couldn’t be allowed on Medical grounds. I advised her it wasn’t a ‘request’ and I was leaving, discharging myself. We spoke for some time, to and fro, till I decided I had had enough of this craziness. I used my trump card of threatening to call my Barrister. The Doctor advised leaving was foolish as I will almost definitely injure myself, or possibly die. I rebuked I may have an accident but at least I’ll be at home.

Her final reply to me was ‘’Six (6) months maximum before you will be back; probably a broken arm or something, more likely a broken hip.’’

Self-Discharge here I come, but no, not yet, Sharyn had paperwork to fill out first, a No Fault, Release Form to cover the Rehabilitation Hospital and the Staff. Sharyn had to accept full responsibility for me. This was agreeable with Sharyn and clearly did not have the desired effect that they, Doctor and Nurse, were hoping for.

Leaving was difficult, much more so than I imagined, we were requested to attend a meeting the following day with the Director, we were agreeable to that.

Anyway, I was going home.

Discharge (going home!)

Irresponsible and Selfish – I was told this. I wasn’t thinking about my family, and the possible consequences of going home so early.

If I was to die, I wanted it at home with my family,

not in a hospital with strangers!

Our son soon arrived with a wheelchair and that was it, I was going home. Forgot about the fact I was disabled and was dependant on everyone. I was going home, off I was wheeled, my catheter attached to my leg obvious to all the future difficulties that lay ahead. I still believe I would have left regardless if I had known what our future had waiting for us. It was very difficult, especially the first couple of days, there was so many of the ‘little’ things you just do, or take for granted. I still was ‘surprisingly’ very dependent on assistance. Sure, I could stand up from the wheel-chair; I could do a ‘transfer’, not much else though. I was still on the liquid diet, blended Spaghetti Bolognaise tends to loose it’s appeal.

The Meeting

Attended the meeting the following day of my leaving the Hospital, It was ‘interesting’.

Everyone was present, from the Senior Ward Nurse, the Psychologist , the Physiotherapist’s, and Speech Therapist to anyone who had had dealings with me. We, my wife and our son, were supposed to feel in awe of all this ‘professional’ talent and mayhaps recognise our standing. All took turns presenting their perspective on my Stroke Recovery, all expressed their concern of my leaving the Programme, (Programme ?, never knew of it). I was asked if I had reconsidered my request to which I gave my answer, a definite No.

We were told I may leave ‘At Own Risk, Against Medical Advice’ with future regular appointments to attend as an ‘Out-Patient’. Then more paperwork of course.

We were warned of how risky my leaving was and Sharyn was given a case of medical equipment for the up-keep of the Cather. Sharyn was also given a quick explanation of how to respond to Choking. My ability to swallow, (Dysphagia), tended to cause potential problems