ShoeStrings

“Your attitude determines your altitude.” Em Gee

 INSPIRATION…

I was asked to write a few words for an ‘inspirational’ wall. Below is my attempt…

I survived stroke 3.5 years ago. It left me physically limited and emotionally trapped.   But I strongly believe each one of you has a choice about how you face each of your situations. Everyone deals with their recovery so differently, but each person can tackle it with inspiration!

I   dentify your recent hiccup

N   ow choose to let it be what it is - a hiccup!

S     upport. Take it.  Share the burden. Work it!

P     ractise, practise. Practise, Repeat tasks. ‘P’ also stands for being a patient patient!

I      s asking ‘Why?’ going to change your spot?

R     eview where you’re at. Reflect –  put it down on paper  or get others too

A     cceptance. Grieve for what you’ve lost but then accept it and move on. Gradually adjust to how life is now. Choose to survive this, not be a victim of it!

T     ime. Take life day by day

I   dentify you new direction!

O    ccupy yourself. Nothing’s impossible, you might do it differently but you can do it!

N     ow. Live in the present. The past has gone. The future is shaped by how each of you chooses to deal with it

I couldn’t speak now I’m an Inspirational speaker

I couldn’t move, now I walk with crutches

I was fed & showered, now I live alone

I’ve chosen to be not a victim but a survivor!

Remember: It’s not what happens to you, it’s how you choose to deal with it that matters!

Today I drove Harley, my scooter, right into a pole. So after spilt coffee, broken headlights and a universal stare from onlookers, I kept my sunglasses on and tried to inconspicuously drive home. Embarrassed, I didn’t drink the remains of my coffee till I was parked safely in my car spot. I drank the cold coffee slowly to prolong seeing the damage to my silver scooter. 

After I’d recovered from my smash, I decided to try and reverse my bad luck and tackle a tram ride on crutches. Being a sunny Sunday, I thought it’d be a great time to trial public transport. From my perspective, things couldn’t get worse. 

Not the mother-daughter outing my mum had envisaged but I dragged her along to witness my triumph over trams or be a moral support if I failed. So I caught the 2:42pm tram and after getting off, on and off again, returned home at 3:12pm. 

Although I’d also really damaged my confidence when I crashed into that pole, my afternoon tram trial had replenished my confidence stores. I’d done it! Woo hoo! 

 After trying everything from vitamins to cold and flu, a week later I succumbed and went to my local GP. However, I was not only prescribed antibiotics but was also queried about the need for anti depressants.

“Although short for time” My GP said looking at his wrist watch “I feel it’s important we talk about Depression”.

The ‘D’ word only tensed my achy muscles.

With no eye contact, he continued, “Do you know that stroke and lower mood can be associated?”

No derr. Was he serious? I thought doctors were meant to be smart! As a stroke survivor, depression is a condition that is siamesed to having a stroke. Your mood does fluctuate like a sea saw- high when something finally clicks after two years of practise; low when you once again need to ask for help. Despite having shocking physical balance, I’ve learnt overtime how to emotionally balance my own sea-saw.

Sitting there, I found myself a bit frustrated. A stranger had the nerve to probe me about my mood! If my temperature was 36.2º C, it was now off the scale! I stumbled over words trying to justify that I was quite emotionally stable. That my head cold had zapped my energy; forced me into a warm cosy daggy tracksuit and left me in a vulnerable state. I sensed by his blank gaze at the computer screen that my rationale was a waste of words and energy. I had come far in my recovery, but to him I was just a sad girl on crutches that needed more than antibiotics.

I stopped mid sentence. At that moment I forced myself to squeeze into his shoes. He was doing his job. It was an area that didn’t come naturally to him, but he was trying. I acknowledged that I knew the high association between stroke and depression. I reassured him that despite having both highs and lows, I felt I could manage my sea-saw moods at this time.

I left that medical room with more than a repeat prescription. One of a GP’s roles is to screen for depression. However, it was brought up so abruptly, when he was short for time, when he clearly felt obligated to discuss the condition. With depression becoming more and more common in our society, surely stirring the possibility and then letting me out into the world after the consultation isn’t effective. What if I’d said, “Well actually I think I need help?” In his restricted time, his awkward and forced communication skills, I guarantee that my plea would’ve only elicited relief that he’d screened me and a printed a referral to a psychiatrist.

Community integration is so important. However, I do believe that there are some issues that are better discussed within a ‘stroke group’ or mother group’ where there is a deeper understanding and time to deal with it. With community integration, the need for more support groups is so vital. Doctors do their jobs, but they can only be done properly if their suggestions are matched outside their consultation.