Life lessons my stroke and recovery taught me

At around 6:10 on Sunday 20 November 2016, I suffered an ischaemic stroke, a blood clot in my brain that stopped the oxygen flow and caused damage to part of the right side of my brain.

It was just four days after my 38 birthday. I was very fit and healthy at the time, exercising five to six times a week, I ate well, I didn’t drink, I didn’t smoke. I had no family history of stroke and no risk factors. So, it came as a big shock when, on that morning, within a few minutes of getting out of bed, I found myself lying on the floor of my home, half paralysed, unable to move my left side at all.

Suffering and recovering from a stroke taught me many life lessons. And I wanted to share these in case they may help anyone else who’s going through this.

Lesson 1-Do what you can (and you can always do something). Take action

For the first twenty-four hours in hospital, I was on bed rest with regular observations being taken, monitoring my speech, my movement and all of my vital signs. I couldn’t move my left side at all, and even lifting or moving my head, was difficult. My whole left side was like a dead weight, and felt like it had pins and needles.

The first evening I was in hospital, one of the male nurses who came to monitor me gave me some great advice. He said “Even though you’re on bed rest for the first twenty-four hours, when you can, and if you feel up to it, try to visualise signals running from your brain to your left side. Visualise your arm and leg moving or your fingers moving. You can even do this with your eyes closed.” So, that’s what I did periodically on that first evening.

At a time when I was feeling powerless, this nurse had given me power and responsibility for starting my recovery and it felt good to be doing something, however small.

It can feel overwhelming when you suddenly can’t do things that you’re used to doing and took for granted. Rather than focus on what you can’t do, focussing on what you can do, even if it’s only something small, like visualising signals running from your brain, can feel so empowering and it really can help your brain start to repair.

Recovery can feel slow and tedious but focussing on one small step forward at a time really helped me. Now, whenever I feel overwhelmed or powerless in life, I stop, take a breath, and focus on one thing, however small, that I can do to move me forward.

Lesson 2-Gratitude

As I lay on my bed on that first evening, unable to move my left side, I thought back over the many things I’d done in my life, places I’d travelled to, races I’d run in, including running over the Sydney Harbour Bridge, bicycle rides I’d done along cycle paths surrounded by nature, hikes in New Zealand, camping trips, places I’d driven to, beaches I’d visited and reflected on how grateful I was to have done so much in my life to this point.

I felt so grateful that I’d been such an active person and filled my life with so many great memories.

I didn’t know what my recovery would look like, how much movement I would regain, whether I’d be able to walk again, let alone run or cycle and really soaked in the beautiful memories I’d already made.

I was, by no means, giving up on being able to make more memories at this point but I also accepted that if my life didn’t get back to what it had been like, that would be OK and I would find new ways to live my life and get the most out of it. It felt good to reflect on where I’d come from and where I wanted to get back to, rather than get caught up in only thinking about where I was in that exact moment.

As my recovery progressed, I continued to find gratitude for the simple things; being able to go to the toilet on my own without assistance, being able to roll over in bed easily, being able to use a knife and fork and I was so grateful for all of the hospital staff, friends and family who supported me throughout my recovery.

While I was in hospital, a friend actually brought me in a gratitude journal, where I would write down three things every day that I was grateful for. It helped focus my mind on seeking out the positives in each day from gratitude for the lady who brought me my morning cup of tea to regaining a small bit of movement that I hadn’t had the day before or simply being able to sleep peacefully without someone waking me up every few hours to take observations.

Since my stroke, I have continued this gratitude practice, sometimes through journaling, sometimes in meditation, sometimes through conversations with family at the end of each day. I have shared this practice with many friends who have also found it to be beneficial. Knowing that you’re going to record or share some things you’re grateful for each day helps you be on the lookout for the positives in each day, however small. Expressing gratitude has been found to have many mental and physical benefits, helping to improve your mood, your sleep and even boost your immune system.

Lesson 3- Set goals

When I was admitted to hospital, there were a number of goals that I wanted to achieve in my recovery, not least to be able to go to the toilet on my own again. So, I set myself goals to aid my recovery. These goals ranged in difficulty and I wrote them all down in a list in the back of a journal I kept while I was in hospital.

As I accomplished each one, I wrote the date that I did it next to the goal in my journal. Some were achieved in weeks, some in months and many continued to improve over a number of years. It was very satisfying to write the date next to each one and always gave me something to work towards.

Some goals I set myself were to be able to:

• Go to the toilet on my own
• Tie my hair up on my own
• Give hugs with two arms
• Be able to turn over in bed
• Eat with a knife and fork
• Walk independently without any aids
• Cook
• Drive
• Shower on my own
• Get back to the gym
• Walk the dog
• Play my cello again
• Run again

For example, when I set myself the goal of going to the toilet on my own, it was broken down into these smaller goals:

• having two nurses assist me with a Johnny belt (an aid that wrapped around my waist and had handles on it for nurses to hold to help hold me upright) and commode
• having one nurse assist me with a Johnny belt and commode
• having one nurse assist me with a Johnny belt and using the actual toilet
• having one nurse assist me without any other aids
• using a walker on my own
• finally being able to walk to, and use the toilet, completely on my own again.

I later found out that setting goals is hugely helpful in recovering from any adversity and I certainly found it a helpful measuring stick for my own recovery.

Now when I’m facing something difficult or there’s something I want to achieve, I write a list of goals and can break each one down into smaller goals to help me achieve it.

Lesson 4- Persistence and consistency. Don’t avoid the challenge. That’s where the progress is and celebrate the little wins.

Initially, it seemed almost incomprehensible to me that my body would ever move as easily as it had before. At the start of my recovery, it took so much effort to move my arm or leg even the tiniest amount and then a lot of rest to recover and allow new neural pathways to form. It was frustrating and fatiguing but, bit by bit, each day there would be even a small amount of progress.

Even when lying in bed, in between physiotherapy or occupational therapy sessions and rest times, I would work on making small movements with my left side. I forced myself to use my left side as much as I could even though it was painfully slow to do anything.

I didn’t allow myself to use my right hand when my left hand could do something and the persistence and consistency of working on my recovery each day paid off.

Each morning when the doctors would come and do their rounds, I would show them a “new trick” I could do, being able to straighten my leg, being able to lift a finger, being able to turn my wrist, being able to open and close a fist. Eventually, with a lot of hard work, all the little movements came together and the movements became smoother and more automatic.

While it can be extremely frustrating and the progress of recovery can feel so slow, don’t give up. Every little bit counts and it all adds up. Take on the challenges and don’t forget to celebrate your successes along the way.

Lesson 5- Mindfulness-do one thing at a time

Like many of us, before my stroke I thought I was a wonderful multi-tasker. I could juggle things going on at home, at work, with friends, getting out to exercise. Whatever life threw at me, I thought I was doing a great job of doing it all and doing it all well.

As I recovered from my stroke, I learned the valuable lesson of doing one thing at a time and doing each thing mindfully. In my recovery, this was what I had to do, as my brain could only manage to do one thing at a time.

If I was concentrating on my left leg and walking, I couldn’t also hold anything in my left hand. I found this out when I had been holding my mobile phone in my left hand and then I stood up to walk across the room. As soon I stood up and shifted my concentration to moving my left leg, my left hand automatically opened and dropped my phone on the floor. A good reminder for me to do one thing at a time.

It turns out that multi-tasking isn’t really something we can do anyway. In fact, when we try to do more than one thing at a time, we simply switch quickly between each task, which can be very energy draining, especially for a recovering brain. And often, when we do this, we actually don’t do either task as well or as efficiently as we could if we took the time to do one thing at a time.

Even though now, my brain can manage to switch back and forth between tasks more easily, I still try to minimise fatigue and ensure I do things to the best of my ability, by focussing on doing one task at a time.

Lesson 6 - Slow down and rest

I’ve always been a “do-er”, always filling my time and being “on the go.” I love to learn, I love to move, I love to connect with others but rarely did I ever give myself permission to slow down and rest, especially in my own company. I’d always found slowing down and resting to feel uncomfortable. It was so unfamiliar to me. I always pushed myself to do more, achieve more, be more.

Having a stroke forced me to slow down and rest and it was a strangely comforting feeling to be given permission to do less.

During my recovery, rest was so important. As I taught my brain to communicate with my body again, it was tiring and after any of my rehab work, it was vital for my body to rest and sleep. While I was in rehab at the hospital, my daily routine was rehab, eat, sleep, rehab, eat, sleep, rehab, eat, sleep etc

I truly learned the importance of slowing down, being in the moment, giving myself time to rest so I didn’t get completely overcome with fatigue.

This is something I continue to work on in life. Now that I can move my body easily and without having to consciously think of each movement, I sometimes find myself getting pulled back in rushing through life to try and get more done but actually, in slowing down and being present, and allowing myself to rest and restore my energy, I experience more of life because I’m truly living each moment.

I have learned to meditate and make sure that I carve out time each day where I can find silence and stillness to be on my own and simply breathe. I also hugely prioritise my sleep each night.