EnableMe | enableme - stroke recovery and support

Last year my husband and I went to the Vivid Festival in Sydney. We went early and tried to avoid the crowds, since having my stroke I find both noise and crowds extremely overwhelming. I remember looking down Pitt Street and seeing a wall of people all coming towards me, I felt like there was no escape. My husband and I made a swift about-face and got on the next train leaving Circular Quay. This was not a new experience for either of us, in the years since my stroke I have frequently left weddings and parties early when the noise got too much or there were just too many people, and I often urge my husband to stay or go to things without me, not wanting him to miss out.

It was around this time of the year that I realised that things really weren't working out for me at work. I was getting to work at 7am, working a few hours, teaching classes all day, remaining at my desk until long after most people had gone, taking home what I hadn't finished in the evenings and weekends. School holidays became a continuation of term time, where I sat at my desk catching up on all the things I hadn't gotten around to. I can do everything that I used to do, but it all takes me longer. Deciphering students handwriting was a nightmare and I would take twice as long as everyone else to finish marking papers.

Fatigue was a constant factor, I was never not tired. I began avoiding social gatherings, even with my own family, to catch up on sleep or work. When I did get to these gatherings, the feelings of guilt because something for work wasn't done marred the enjoyment of the day.

So that's when I starting thinking about the road not taken. I wanted to take a walk if I felt like it. I wanted to cook a meal at night instead of reheating the meals my mother and I had made and frozen. I wanted to wake up in the morning and not feel the descending weight of anxiety and panic. My husband and I were saving hard to afford a house of our own. We were trying to start a family. Trying to live the dream of having it all. After several nasty incidents at work, I couldn't take it anymore. I applied for leave, and leave I did. I left quietly, no farewell, no one to walk me to my car with boxes and bags. No hugs and people telling me how much they will miss me. As usual I was one of the last to leave the staffroom. Again, the road not taken by most as they leave their workplace of 12 years.

I'm taking the road less travelled. I've made mistakes this year, taken side paths that lead me back to the main road, and yes, there have been times when I felt like I was facing that Pitt Street Wall of People again. But little by little I'm gaining confidence to follow the road not taken.

As this year starts to wind down, there are lots of jobs being advertised, even fantastic jobs in my new field of study. I'm not applying. I'm happy to get a call at 6.30 to do a day's casual teaching, walk out at the end of the day and come home to my 'quiet'. Actually, I do have it all: I have a family who loves and supports me, a roof over my head, and snuggly bed to sleep in, a mountain of books to read, a cup of tea at my elbow, and a dream to work towards. This is my road not taken.

Hi Katrina,

The decisions you describe you have made for your health. They remind me of when our children were young. There became a time when with friends wanting to get together, evenings of dinner were planned as families. I was always more than happy to leave at the first sign of one of our children being tired. I too would find the stimulation tiring.

For me in those days, early nights and rest for us all were more important than staying out.

Like you I didn't make a fuss about it. In fact if I disclosed my health history I found the bombardment of questions too overwhelming. It was safer not to disclose.

I like the sound of your mountain of books to read, cup of tea at your elbow and dream to work towards.

Have a good day!

Sue

Hi Sue,

yes, it's interesting the reaction people have to your disclosure. I realise people are curious (or just plain nosy!) and I do my best to answer questions only if I feel I can trust the person. It's also interesting that my best and closest friends rarely ask anything, whereas the distant acquaintances seem to want all the gory details. I liken it also to people's reaction/treatment of me, because I was working in a high school it was public knowledge instantly, the staff were told at a briefing and the students were told at an assembly (not what I would have chosen). On my return to work the following year, some people treated me like I was stupid, some like there was nothing wring with me. There were a rare few who treated me like I was completely normal, but were willing to assist and support in the many areas where I now required some form of help. I think I was most frustrated by the ones who didn't make an effort to understand that I was not the same person I was pre-stroke and frequently commented that I 'should' be doing one thing or another. It was most interesting when students spoke to me, asking me why I wasn't dead. They'd had no encounters with young stroke, only elderly strokes that often do end in death or severe disability.

Have a great day!!

Kat

Hi Kat,

Wow - that was awesome for me to read, thank you for sharing your experiences. I always feel myself exhale when I read something which hits the mark of what I too felt like.

As I am out and about volunteering as a Stroke Safe Ambassador, I do feel safe disclosing as well as giving my presentation. I have worked long and hard throughout my ongoing recovery and know that public awareness is much needed in for stroke. Knowing that I am well supported in my role as Stroke Safe Ambassador is a secure feeling!!

Have a great day!

Sue

Hi Katrina, thanks so much for this blog - I really enjoyed reading it and have been thinking about it ever since. A favourite writer of mine wrote something about this that I've always held close. A totally different situation, but appropriate I think:
"It's that the world changes beneath your feet. Things go slow at first and the change is so small that it's almost imperceptible, and you pay it no mind. And then later, years later, the change seems huge and it seems to have occurred overnight. Suddenly you aren't the person you were. And then, where once you thought not wanting what you used to want was punishment, suddenly you think it may be a blessing."
Frederick Barthelme

Thanks again, and all the best, Jude

Hi Jude,

thanks for sharing that quote, it really fits in with my current journey. Is it from one of his books? I'd be interested to read it.

Kat

Hi Kat, It's from a very funny and wise book called Waveland - highly recommend it.

Cheers Jude