8 months and a Busy Summer

The lack of posts is due to everything that has been going on.  Since my last post, I finished a 10k, I did Bay to Breakers, I went back East for the first time since November, I took two business trips, my good friend got married, and I spent a weekend in Vegas.  I finished the 10k in 1 hour flat, which is about a 9:55 min/mi pace, and Bay to Breakers took us just under 1 ½ hours.  Just yesterday I ran 7 miles in 1:09.  The longest I’ve gone since the stroke is 16 miles (2 ½ hours) and I’m on track to finish the Chicago marathon in October in 5 hours or less.  Gibson comes with most of the time; he’s up to 14 miles and does great!  I got him a backpack to carry his own food and water on long runs and hikes.  He’s gotten somewhat bigger; he’s gained 12 lbs from the time I adopted him, but it’s mostly muscle.  He’s fully housebroken and knows lots of tricks now.  He’s a great companion, and his first birthday is next month (hint hint).  Oh, by the way, the Nevada Humane Society, where I adopted him from, is raising money through its annual duck race.  I adopted a ducky to support them, and I highly encourage you to adopt one:

http://www.nevadahumanesociety.org/duckrace.htm

I’ve enjoyed several hikes around the Tahoe area, and have had the luck of making a number of new friends.  I’ve been enjoying my freedom from Coumadin, too.  In early August, I went to Mammoth, CA to attend Bluesapalooza, a 3-day beer and blues festival.  It.  Was.  Amazing.  My drinking abilities are not what they used to be, but I’m happy to enjoy a few brews and the occasional bourbon without having to worry.

In October, a couple weeks after the marathon, Larcker is getting married in Philly.  And I will be there in my 4” heels.  I’m back to wearing heels like I used to; and the more precarious the shoe (like the 5” platform wedges I bought), the more trouble I have, but I feel comfortable in 3-4” heels.  I know she was worried about that, so rest assured I will be dancing the night away in my high heels.

Training at the gym is going well; we’ve progressed a lot.  Now I do intervals: I do a set of exercises
(squats, lunges, etc) then instead of resting I sprint on the treadmill for 30 seconds until I’ve done 3 sets.  Then we move on to intervals with a different exercise.  I think rehabilitation-wise, I’ve achieved all of my goals.  But I’ve lost 15 lbs since January, and I really like the results, so I continue to see Anthony 2 times a week.

Physically, in case you can’t tell, everything is almost normal.  I’m running just a tad slower that my previous pace, and I’m doing everything else within reason without problems.  The only hurdle I haven’t gotten past is jumping.  I have a mental block about jumping up onto something.  Jumping down is no problem.  But as soon as I brace myself to jump up (even if it’s a low platform), my brain says, “oh hell no.”  So that’s my next challenge.

My speech is coming along.  I went to UNR for speech therapy all summer, and plan to go back when the semester starts later this month.  My speech still is not anywhere near what I want it to be, but 8 months out I’m talking a whole lot faster and it’s more intelligible.  It’s sounding more natural too.  I’m betting within another year it’ll be close to normal.

I think it’s getting near time to go back to the rehab hospital and visit all the wonderful doctors, nurses and therapists who put me on the road to recovery.  I am a medical miracle, after all, and they need to see how their care in the first 2 weeks post event made such a positive impact.

Winning!

One thing the stroke taught me is not to wait to do the things I want to do.  I have wanted to get a dog for the longest time, so I finally did.  His name is Gibson, and he’s a 6 month old Australian Cattle Dog mix.  I got him from the Nevada Humane Society, and they said he was a stray.  Because he is so young, it requires a lot of patience to care for him, but he is learning fast.  He’s almost housebroken; I say almost because accidents do happen inside the house, but they are few and far between.  There hasn’t been an accident in over 2 weeks (I hope I did not jinx it).  He knows sit, stay and come for the most part, although he doesn’t really listen when there are a lot of distractions around.  He does well around other dogs and I have been taking him to the dog park a lot.

I think he makes a great running partner.  He has been with me a few times, and has done well considering he’s never run on a leash before.  He loves people, so running with the group is right up his alley.  People seem to love him too; he’s very cute, friendly and loves attention, so it’s no wonder that people love him.  He did 4.5 miles on Saturday, April 2^nd without problem, so I think as long as I’m careful about his buildup he will be fine. In terms of mileage, he can keep up with me.

In addition to getting Gibson, I bought a new car.  It’s a 2011 Subaru Outback Sport, and it’s awesome.  I’m so happy with it.  It came with overinflated tires but that was really easy to resolve.  In almost 3 weeks I’ve put 1200 miles on it already.

With those new acquisitions, I’m really happy.  I think I am satisfied for a while now.  The focus has returned to getting better.

Since my last blog post, my physical recovery has progressed a lot.  I’ve determined that at the gym, my balance and coordination are no worse than anyone else’s.  I am weaker, and Anthony and I are addressing that.  I’ve dropped down to two sessions a week but we have stepped up the pace.  He loves using all sorts of things that you would not imagine would be used in a gym; for example, I had to put my feet on a furniture dolly and walk on my hands.  Good upper body work out, it really make you curse.

My speech is coming along.  My clinician at UNR says I am doing really, really well.  We’re working on speech rate and intonation (using pitch to stress syllables, rather than force or effort).  Most people learn language when they are small, so you probably don’t remember how difficult it is to master English.  Because it is more difficult than I imagined, I am doing all these drills to try and sound more like my old self.

I’ve been back to the barn a few times since my last post.  When I felt ready, I tried riding a horse.  McKenna suggested I ride Gazeebo, since he is much easier to ride than the horses I regularly rode, Maddy and Ignite.  When I took Gazeebo around the ring, both McKenna and I realized my skill and ability were still there; it was just a matter of regaining strength and getting back in shape.  So this past Sunday, she let me try riding Maddy.  I like to say that anyone can sit on Maddy, but you have to know what you’re doing to really ride her.  Sunday went beautifully.  So beautifully in fact that even people not knowledgeable about riding can appreciate it.  I ran her through all the gaits; walk, sitting trot, posting trot, canter and did basic patterns with her.  Yes, it was hard, but it felt really, really good.  I was really happy and look forward very much to my next lesson.

My running has improved.  I am not going that much faster, but the activity itself has become a lot easier.  It’s hard to describe, but I no longer find myself catching my balance as often or tiring as quickly.  Since my stamina is up, I am no longer worried about my upcoming races; in fact, I have signed up for my first 10k since the stroke.  I am doing the Reno Rock and River 10k on May 1^st.  If you’re in town, I urge you to come out for the festivities.

http://rock-n-riverhalfmarathon.com/

I also got some really good news.  On April 1^st, I underwent an MRI.  They used contrast and took pictures of my head and neck; the intent was to see how my arteries are doing.  The Neurologist called me on Monday April 11^th to tell me everything has fully healed; my arteries look great inside and out, and there’s signs that my dissection has fully healed.  That is amazing.  Simply amazing.  Not only is my recovery going well, but now I have proof that my body and brain have healed.

The next step is to see a hemotologist.  He or she can look at samples of my blood from the day of the stroke, before I was put on blood thinners, to see if my blood has a natural tendency to clot when it is not supposed to.  If it does, well then that kind of sucks because I’ll have to stay on Coumadin for the rest of my life.  But if it doesn’t, since I am fully healed, I can come off!  Fingers crossed!

Next Wednesday, April 20^th at 7pm, Dr. Jill Bolte Taylor is coming to speak in Reno.  She’s a Brain Scientist who had a stroke at the age of 37, and because of her background, was able to recognize everything that was happening to her.  It took her 8 years to fully recover, and she wrote a book about her experience.  Her book is A Stroke of Insight and next Wednesday, she will be lecturing about it.  I bought tickets, and I actually got really amazing seats (1^st row orchestra pit).

http://www.insightlecture.com/speakers/jill-bolte-taylor-ph-d/

So March was a super busy month for me, and it spilled over into April.  I’m just waiting for the weather to cooperate; it has been cold here, and I really am looking forward to the warm weather.

Oh, I almost forgot.  Since I picked UCONN as one of the final four, I won my office pool.  $140, but more importantly, beating all the guys I work with.  Bi-winning.

About this blog: I don’t really know what else to say.  Yes, I can update it periodically with my progress, but I feel I’ve made my point already.  A stroke, contrary to what most believe, is something you can recover from, I am literally living proof of that.  Stroke is the number three killer in this country and the number one disabler.  But if you survive, you can come back to a productive life.  The road is long and hard, but the key is you have to want to do the work yourself.  Yes I am very fortunate in that I have the greatest family and an amazing support system: Mom, Dad, Albee, Brian, Erica, Larcker, Lydia, Nicole, Brad, Michelle, Meaghan, et al (I can’t even name everyone).  But I chose to get better; where the stroke left me was unacceptable so I did something about it.  I did the work myself; they merely supported me in my decisions.

So with that said, I will update periodically and let you all know how I’m doing, especially after big events.  But you got the point already, and life is, well, normal for me now, and that’s what I wanted.  So I declare victory.

Me: 1

Stroke: 0

Lucky Week

This was a good week.  Obviously the 17^th was St. Patrick’s Day, and March 14^th was Steak and BJ day.  Really.

www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=March%2014th

I found out that my best friend, Nicole, is getting married.  We’ve been friends since freshman year of college, so that’s coming up on 10 years I think.  She’s back in NYC so she wasn’t physically here to help me, but she has stayed closely in touch with me so that I know she’s around to support me through everything.  We have the kind of friendship that will last forever: weeks can go by (I’d rather they not) without us talking, but the next time that we do talk or hang out, we can pick up right where we left off.  We’ve had plenty of practice at this; she’s a doctor, so I never saw her even when I lived in NYC haha.  I was not worried about our friendship when I moved; we have seen each other at our best and worst and I know that distance can’t change what we’ve been through nor will it change how we will support each other now or in the future.  I like her fiancé, and I’m really happy for her.

March Madness started; I picked Kansas, UConn, Pitt and OSU for the Final Four with Kansas winning it all.  I’m currently tied for second in my office pool.  The pot is $140, but more importantly, I want the bragging rights.

We also got good news about projects at work. If everything goes well, I should be able to stay in Reno for a while and not have to look for work elsewhere.

All of the good stuff that has happened should help me; I have to deal with my astronomical medical bills now.  First of all, I have insurance, but it seems that not all of the providers that billed me also billed my insurance.  The same is true for the reverse: it seems like my insurance paid providers that never billed me.  All in all I owe close to 12 or $13,000 when I should owe $10,000.  I should be able to afford everything, but I have to make sure I was billed correctly before I can begin paying it off.

Recovery-wise, things in general are going well.  Physically, of course, I am getting better.  Anthony has been challenging me with harder exercises at the gym, and my running has gotten better.  On Tuesday, I ran 2.25 miles without stopping in under 11 minutes.  That’s a 10:56 min/mile pace. Today I did not run, but I am really looking forward to Bay to Breakers in May and the RTO in June.

I’m still improving at RTEC.  I haven’t yet ridden a horse, but I’ve helped out at the barn and have groomed a couple horses so far.  My right arm isn’t quite what I want it to be yet, and I am right handed, so grooming horses is a little challenging, but I think it’s good for me.  Handling an animal that weighs almost a ton, cleaning its coat and picking up its hooves all do wonders for my confidence.  Also, horses are super-perceptive.  They can pick up on your physical and emotional condition immediately, so it forces you to be honest with yourself and face your demons.  You have to be honest with yourself in order to be strong for them because they feed off of your energy.  I have always loved that about them but I think that’s more important now than ever.  A lot of people are convinced that horses are good therapists; I’ve always believed that and I am positive that they can help me heal faster.

I had an appointment this week where I found out there’s a chance I have to stay on Coumadin permanently.  No, I don’t want another stroke, so if that turns out to be true, I will take the Coumadin.  But like I’ve already said, taking Coumadin blows.  Because of it, I have to limit a lot of stuff, and I love all the stuff I need to limit.  Plus I have to get my blood drawn every couple of weeks or so to make sure my INR levels are ok.  I will find out for sure after my next MRI and seeing a hematologist about clotting factors in my blood.  I hope I can come off of the medication.

On Thursday, I rode the elevator with someone I’ve never met before.  She was super nice, and asked me where my accent is from.  When I explained to her that I’m from NYC but my voice is the way it is because of my stroke, she tried to play it off like she didn’t notice that I talked different, but that instead I sound like a New Yorker.  Funny, right? She noticed my voice was different so she asked why, and when I told her she pretended I sound no different than any other New Yorker.  Anyway, I learned that there’s really no way to tell what happened to me; if you don’t know what happened last December, you can’t tell most of the time and if you do figure out something happened, you won’t know what happened.

To me, that means I have recovered.  Doctors were confident I would, but I attribute my recovery to my attitude and my belief that I would get better.  If you ask me, I was given all of the tools needed for a full recovery; an amazing family, great friends, good health and age were all on my side.  But those were only tools.  If I had chosen not to use them, they would have meant nothing.  I recovered because I chose to, and everything I had available to me in my life supported me in that decision.  Yes, I lucked out with my prognosis and support system, but it was because I chose not to roll over and give up that I got better.

12 weeks

Today is 12 weeks since I had my stroke.

I have progressed a lot.  Physically, I am much better.  I tried yoga on my Wii again.  Back in January, couldn’t do one-legged poses at all.  Now I can do them.  After yoga I bowled, because I needed something more fun.  I bowled a turkey.  First time since I got sick.

I’ve progressed in my running.  I’ve gone as far as 5 kilometers, and while I did have to slow down for some walking, I did 5k on a muddy and icy trail in 42 minutes.  I’ve gone from a 15 minute mile pace to an 11:40 minute mile pace.  To those who don’t run, shaving 4:20 (haha 420) off of your pace is incredible.  Really.  Even I, the survivor who does not think anything is good enough, am impressed.

I can use my balance board now, and am able to do more advanced movements at the gym with Anthony.  Today I tried out the slide board, where I can mimic what is best described as fast ice skating.  At first it was tricky, but I am getting the hang of it.  My balance is definitely getting better, so I know I can expand my horizons and do much of what I used to do soon.

http://www.vewdo.com/index

http://www.shapeupshop.com/plyometrics/ultra_slide_board.htm

I will continue training with Anthony because I do see results.  Today he really kicked my ass and all I wanted to do was curse, but overall I do see the benefits and I think they’re self explanatory.  He says I’m progressing much faster than he originally thought I would, and as a result, he calls me “a victim of my own success.”  Meaning I’m doing so well at the gym that the exercises are getting harder.  Hooray.  I’m so excited.

Speechwise, things are a bit easier.  I still sound off, but I rarely have trouble with people understanding me.  My speech therapy at Renown ended February 21^st, and I had an evaluation with the speech pathology department at UNR yesterday, March 8^th.  They seem to know how to help me; the evaluation consisted of reading passages aloud, conversational speech, saying certain words and sentences, making sounds and facial movements.  I will be going there on Tuesday mornings starting March 22^nd, so hopefully my speech will get much better.

Emotionally, well, there are ups and downs.  Overall, I think things are going well.  When I do get upset, it’s less about the stroke and more about things that happen to me in my daily, general life.  Things that would happen regardless of my health, so that’s normal right?  I think I have grieved for the person I used to be but lost; things are at times still difficult to deal with, but I like to think I have accepted what happened to me.  My family is going through a really rough time now; even though I am getting better, they have to deal with another blow to their strength besides what happened to me.  So that is hard to deal with.  I hate to sound callous, but sometimes it’s easier to not think about it and focus on me and my life.  It sucks, but it’s true.  I’m better able to deal with things if I am emotionally stable.  So when I feel that instability creeping in, I retreat and focus just on me.  It might be selfish, but if I’m going to be selfish at all, now is the time.  When I am better I will have more time and energy to devote to other people, and I plan on doing so.

Speaking of emotions, I went back to the barn to see McKenna, Deb and the rest of the RTEC crew.  Being there was hard at first, and if I think about it long enough it’s still hard.  I watched the two horses I rode the most being ridden by other people and was only able to think about what I used to be able to do.  I have to play the cards I’m dealt, but remembering the hand I used to have really sucks.  It was a good hand, and it’s hard to face the fact that I lost it.

I found out some bad things happened to them too while I was gone, but that they are recovering as well.  I was missed, and I’m welcomed there anytime, so hopefully together we can heal.  I plan on stopping by weekly to help out until I feel ready to ride.  Right now, I feel a little unbalanced and probably would fall off a horse, so I want to stay on the ground.  For now, I will groom, feed and lunge the horses.  One day, I’m sure I’ll be ready to ride again.

5 Star

So I went out with my friends on Saturday, February 19, and let me tell you, it’s hard to go out and have a good time.  You constantly worry about how you look, not tripping in your shoes and what you’re doing at that exact moment.  It’s a lot to think about.  Having a couple of drinks helps ease that tension and lets you take that stuff for granted, but because of the Coumadin, my alcohol intake is limited to two drinks per week.  Since I had already had one drink Friday night that meant that Saturday I could only have one.  That sucked big time.  I wish I had not had a drink Friday so I could have two on Saturday.  I used to be able to drink.  A lot.  I got drunk really fast, off of 2-3 drinks, but I could hold a lot.  I could easily have 4 manhattans or 6 beers over the course of a night and be fine.  Not to drive, but fine enough to still be functional, not fall and really enjoy myself.  Beer and bourbon were my drinks of choice, but I could do shots of almost anything.

So being limited to one drink really sucks.  I don’t know if it’s more of a tease than anything, but I savor what little is available to me like it’s the last thing on earth.  The one drink I had last Saturday was supposed to be a manhattan, but I got straight Maker’s from the bartender.  Awesome.  It was like the best thing ever.  I also cheated and had a kamikaze shot; mostly because I wanted it, but also because it had already been purchased and I don’t leave fallen soldiers on the field.  And yes, kamikazes are still gross; I prefer plain drinks.  I wish I could have had something else, something better.

I was out with Lydia and some other friends.  We ended up at 5 Star, which is an ‘alternative lifestyle’ bar, but more importantly, has some of the best dancing in Reno.  It’s a gay bar, and is notorious to some.  Lydia and I love going there because it is one of the few places we can go to and dance and people actually leave us alone, so we don’t have to worry about douchebags hitting on us.  They play cheesy music that everyone knows and pretends to hate but secretly loves.  They have poles and a cage for dancing, and a stage.  The DJ looks crazy and the bar is always packed; you get the idea.  It’s a great place to go later in the evening, when you’re well into the night, and you just want to let loose and have a good time.

I had a ton of fun at 5 Star, really, but I’m still trying to learn to dance like I used to.  I wore heels that night, chunky and short (3” to me is short), and like I said, I was used to wearing stilettos before I got sick, so I still found myself off balance at times.  Really I’m still trying to learn to be myself again.  It’s hard, harder than I thought it would be.  Because I spent so much energy thinking about everything, I ended up getting tired earlier than I expected and ended up going home a couple hours before I really wanted to.

Maybe it was a good thing that I went home before everyone else.  I heard the group split up and the night ended badly for some folks.  It happens to everyone; I have certainly had nights I’d like to forget.

Every time I go out, even though I do go home earlier than everyone else, I feel a little bit better than I did the last time.  So even though I ended up going home that night earlier than I wanted to, I still was out later than the time before that.  RRF had an unofficial pub crawl in late January and I went out with them.  I went home around 9:30pm.  My goal is to eventually be able to go out without even thinking about stuff like that.  I am learning to walk in heels again, which is a big part of how people identify me, and I am getting better at going out.  So I think after a while, things will be where I want them to be.

I want everything to be the same or better than what it used to be.  I’m pretty sure the Coumadin is temporary, so I won’t be restricted anymore.  Side note: before you go thinking that alcohol is my life, even though I love good beers and bourbon is my liquor of choice, I should tell you that being on Coumadin restricts me from a lot of things including foods with vitamin K (spinach, avocado and a lot of healthy foods) and activities where I’m likely to bleed, such as sports where I can fall or using a razor.  Once I’m off the meds, I can start drinking again, but my tolerance will be very low, and not what it used to be.  I will have to work on bringing it back up, just like everything else.  But unlike everything else, working on that will actually be lots of fun, and I know tons of people who will line up to help me.

 That night, my friends were all so understanding that having a good time with them was one less thing I had to worry about.  They have supported me so well that I want to be able to go out again without any of them worrying.  I want them to see that I’m ok despite almost getting taken out.  Yes, I gave everyone a scare, but I’m still here, and everything is ok.  Everything is good.

The worst is over, so now we can just let the good times roll.

Personal Training

While I was in the hospital, the rehab doctor said it would be a really good idea to hire a personal trainer after I completed physical therapy.  I had a personal trainer once back in NYC and I know how they are great at not only recommending physical activities, but most of them know the importance of motivation too, so I was definitely in agreement.  I had to tackle a lot first, but I knew eventually I wanted to hire one.

When PT started winding down for me I decided it was time to find a trainer.  How I found my personal trainer is a story in itself.

I went to get my hair cut in late January.  I had been to Melissa only once, before I got sick, but immediately she knew something happened.  I explained the whole story to her, and she was awed.  When I got to the part about needing a personal trainer, she reminded me that her fiancé is one.  I know Melissa is a bodybuilder and her fiancé is a trainer, but I never put two and two together.

Anyway, thanks to her, I was able to get in touch with Anthony.  Turns out the gym they work at, Push Your Limits, is a private gym, so there’s no monthly membership; you just pay for sessions with a trainer.  They have classes too.  Their clients range from professional athletes all the way to everyday people, so someone like me, an athlete who is recovering from an injury, fits right in.  Also, Anthony has been in the business for a very long time, so rehab work is not new to him.

In our first meeting, he asked me what are my goals.  My goal is plain and simple: although I was not a spectacular athlete, I was still an athlete, and I was pretty awesome (and humble as you can tell) before the stroke, so I wanted to be as close to what I used to be as possible.  If I come out of this better, then hey, I love exceeding my goals, so I will welcome it.

Anthony and I got to work immediately in early February.  I prioritized balance and coordination first, stamina second, and overall strength as a byproduct of the first three.  It seems to be working out that way.  I have had eight sessions with him and am already seeing results.  My overall strength has gone up exponentially, and so has my balance and coordination.  Most importantly, my stamina has increased.  When I started working with Anthony, I could barely run on the treadmill for two minutes on a 3% incline at 3.8 miles per hour.  Now, I can run at a 5% incline at 4.7 miles per hour.  It’s that increase in stamina that helped me complete 1.5 miles outside in under 18 minutes.

I meet with him three times a week.  The first session we work on arms, then for the second we work on legs, and core during the third.  He is a firm believer that a strong core helps everything else, so really my core gets worked during all three sessions.  Also, I worked in a pool with a friend of mine and she pointed out weakness in my right shoulder, so Anthony likes to target that as well.  A typical session is made up of alternating between an exercise and 2-3 minutes on the treadmill.  I hardly get any rest.

If you ask me, the sessions are hard.  Plus they’re in the early morning, so waking up at the ass crack of dawn sucks.  As the one who has to do the exercises, it is easy for me to complain and I don’t want the sessions to get harder.  That’s where Anthony comes in.  He knows to push me, because he knows I need it, and even though deep down I know I need it too, I’m not going to do it myself.

As a result, he has been changing the exercises, giving me new surfaces to work on and throw off my balance and higher weights to handle.

One new exercise he has is so awesome.  I love it.  In case you can’t tell, that’s sarcasm at its finest, ladies and gentlemen.  I know in the long run it will help me, but it sucks, really.

The exercise is meant for my abs, but works on my balance.  I have to do side planks.  I’m sure a lot of you have done side planks.  Big deal, you say?  I have to do side planks with my feet off the ground in gymnastics rings.  So there.

Rings = Bullshit.

It’s a good thing that this training is paying off, because it really sucks doing it.  Hiring Anthony has worked wonders, so hopefully I’ll continue to see results. I hope I do, and I think I will.  It better help me get better, otherwise both Anthony and I are in big trouble.

Learning to Walk

One of the biggest challenges I faced was learning to walk again.  The few days after the stroke, I had trouble walking and needed a lot of help.  Also during my hospital stay I was mostly bed-ridden.  In the inpatient rehab hospital, my physical therapist helped me learn how to walk again.  When I was discharged from inpatient rehab, I could walk on my own, but you could tell something happened to me.  I shuffled, had a limp, and had a very hard time walking a straight line.  Also, my right arm wasn’t coordinated with my walking and didn’t swing with my leg movements.  When I got tired, I looked like I was drunk.  I had no coordination, lost my balance a lot, and could barely function.  The therapy I received in inpatient rehab laid a great foundation, but I knew I had a load of work ahead of me to get back to where I was before.

When I started outpatient rehab, I was prescribed physical therapy.  I started with three sessions per week, and they were an hour each.  In those sessions, I did a lot, such as leg strengthening, balance exercises and walking on the treadmill.  I found those exercises to be extremely difficult and my body weak.  They made things easier by having my right ankle taped to prevent it from rolling and my knee from turning in.  That did help, and it did teach me to walk straighter, but overall strength was an issue and until that was up I couldn’t walk fast.

I practiced and practiced, and my dad sent me a Wii to help.  As silly as it sounds, a Wii does help with strength, balance and coordination. Before I knew it, I could walk fast and straight.  People told me they had a hard time seeing anything different about my walk.  I still had the problem with looking drunk when I was tired, but I knew that would go away with time, as I got stronger.

At my therapy sessions, I could do everything they threw at me, so we moved on to more challenging things: jumping and running.

My balance had gotten better, so during one session, my therapist handed me a jumping rope.  I sucked at jumping rope before, but just being able to do it now was enough of a challenge for me.  I surprised myself by getting more than 20 jumps in a row!  I learned that even though things seem impossibly hard, I should still try them; I might surprise myself.

From there, my therapist helped me start running again.  She had me start on a treadmill and helped me get the feeling again.  She helped coordinate my arms with some strengthening and coordination exercises and helped my legs by using the elliptical and a Bosu ball.  I started off really slowly, and running felt unnatural, but I knew given time and practice, she had paved the road for me, and I know now I’ll be ready for the Chicago marathon in October.

I don’t really go to PT anymore; I have one session left on March 2, and I don’t know if more will be scheduled.  I can walk fine now and I can run slowly.  I think the therapist really did her job, but she said she wishes more of her patients were like me: determined to get better, so she will tell you it was mostly me.  To pick up where she left off, I am seeing a personal trainer three times a week and am doing things at home to progress.

I used to wear heels almost every day.  I work in IT; it’s a male-dominated field, and in addition to being a woman, I have a baby-face.  I’m 27 but I look 21.  I still get carded.  So I’ve learned that the more professional I look, the more seriously I’m taken.  I know heels aren’t for everyone, but for me, they help me look and feel more polished.  And as the years have gone by, I’ve come to love wearing them.  I’m a shoe-whore, self-admitted.

I own about 50 pairs of shoes, and a lot of them are stilettos.  I own very few flats, and most of them are super casual (read: sneakers), so I am very limited with what I can wear to work.  That combined with the fact that I am determined to get better from this stroke has motivated me learn to walk in heels again.

One of my closest friends, Larcker, is getting married this October (congratulations!!!!).  She asked me to be a bridesmaid and I gladly said yes.  Though I am extremely happy for her, that’s not really the point of this story.  The point is, for her wedding, I bought 4” heels.  Some call me crazy, and I know some of those people would think I’d be crazy for wearing them whether or not I had a stroke.  I can’t help that.  But for the ones who think I’m crazy for buying them because my stroke caused problems with my movement, I assure you I bought them for that very reason.  They gave me motivation to not have any problems, and to be able to walk, jump and dance like I used to.

So having gone back to work and knowing the wedding is in October, I have slowly gotten back into wearing heels.  I started with shorter, chunky ones, practicing at home.  I tried walking in them, and moved on to more complex movements, like dancing.  Then I tried wearing them outside.  I have worn shorter, sturdier heels both out to bars and to work.  All has gone well, so the next step is doing the same with my higher, more unstable heels.  I also have to be able to wear the shoes I bought for the wedding. 

Like everything else, I’m sure it will be a tough challenge, but hey, if I survived a stroke that would have killed most people, then this will be cake for me.

My Belated Birthday Gift

I received many gifts while I was hospitalized.  They were all much appreciated, but one really sticks out in my mind.  It was an “everything” gift – belated birthday, Christmas, New Years, and Get Well Soon.

I was sitting in my room at the Rehab Hospital, receiving visitors.  Mom and Dad were there, and so were Brian and Erica.  Plus Lydia was there, and everyone was having a great time.  The receptionist came in to tell us that I had another visitor, and that making room would be a good idea.  We were a bit confused, but she refused to say more.  When she walked out, a guy in a gorilla suit walked in.  Immediately I knew what it was and who it was from.

It was a singing telegram.  Most people don’t know about them, or think they only exist in stories, but I can tell you they’re real.  Very real; I experienced one firsthand.  The guy in the gorilla suit really hit it off with my mom, exchanging dirty jokes and whatnot.  He then proceeded to come around the bed to be next to me, gave me a party hat and a horn, and then sang a song about me.  I forget exactly what it was about, but he seemed to know a lot about me: where I work, what happened to me, what I like to do.  And very few people know that much about me who weren’t in that room and also have the balls to send something like a singing telegram.  In fact, only one person really fits that description; my friend (and boss) Brad has the type of personality to do something like send me a singing telegram.  And what do you know, when the singing gorilla was done with his song, he gave me a card with Brad’s name.  I wasn’t surprised but thoroughly embarrassed.  But embarrassed in a good way, if there is such a thing.  I think there’s video of the whole event but I refuse to let it surface.

I hate to brag; I try to avoid pointing out good things in my personality but I really do like my ability to laugh at myself.  I don’t mind getting embarrassed as long as no one gets hurt (especially me) and it results in people laughing or having a good time.  I guess you had to be there to really appreciate my singing telegram in a gorilla suit, but just know that singing telegrams do exist, they make a great gift and work best if there are other people there to experience it as well.

Also that shows how great of a support system I had; when people couldn’t be there, they made sure they sent their love and support.  But keep in mind that no matter how good your support system, or how much love they send, it’s up to you to use them and to absorb the love to help you move on.  Without your strength, their actions mean nothing.

Family

My mom and dad have supported me every step of the way.  There aren’t words to express how much I love them and how amazing they’ve been not just through this, but for my whole life.  It’s because of them that I’m the way I am today.

My recovery is possible in part because of them.  Even though I was the one who chose this path and I am the one in control and doing it, much of who I am is because of them.  I am really different from them; I live without fear to a fault, almost too extreme, and I choose to be far away from family because I feel it makes me stronger.  But they were the ones who taught me to follow my dreams; so even though I ended up being way different from them and maybe not quite what they expected, that’s me; that’s my true personality, so in a way, I did what they taught me to do.  I know I’m not a great daughter all the time, and I know I don’t get along with them 100% every time I see them or talk to them (what child does?), but I hope they know that I love them even though I don’t say it nearly enough.

They got on the first flight available from NYC to RNO.  They traveled hours and hours to come be by my side.  Ever since I moved out, I have been super independent, so at first I didn’t want them to come.  When I found out how serious it was, I knew they’d kill me if I didn’t call.

Much of what I know about the first few days was told to me by my mom.  I have no idea how she does it; there she is, trying to comfort her daughter yet maintaining enough sense to make good decisions for herself and me.  If you ask her, she will tell you she’s not strong, but many including me will disagree.

My dad, one would think, is so laid back and super passive.  He is, unless his child is concerned.  Then he steps it up and is full of surprises.  I know leaving for him was hard, but he needs to know he got me through the worst, and I’ll see him soon.

I have a million cousins.  I come from a typical Puerto Rican family that is huge.  All of them were pulling for me, even the ones I barely speak to.  But the ones who were by my side were Brian and Erica.  It’s because of them that my parents were able to be there for me while I was hospitalized, and through them I know my whole family was pulling for me.  Brian is my cousin, and he and Erica got married in 2006.  Since then, Erica, and her mother and sister, have become practically family.

I owe them so much.  Brian came out with my parents as soon as they heard the news, and Erica joined us a week or so later.  They were constantly around, and provided much needed relief to both me and my parents.  They took care of hotels and food, and all of the logistics so no one else had to worry.  They left when I was no longer in danger, but before then they got to see Lake Tahoe and much of the landscape I love so much.

I like to think we were close before, but I definitely want to continue staying close to them.  They ran the NYC marathon the first year I did, in 2009, and have signed up for Chicago this year.  So I do want to see them beforehand and I think I will (that’s the current plan), but at the very worst, they’ll be with me come October.  I do plan on heading back east for a visit, but of course, they’re welcome here anytime.

My poor brother was stuck in NYC when all this went down.  Since he was home, my parents asked him to take care of my pet parrot, Tooti. 

I know he was going crazy not knowing what was going on.  It’s hard for me to reach out to people to let them know I’m ok.  Partly because I want to focus on getting better and partly because I’m shy that way.  I am not shy in general or when it comes to meeting other people, but having to depend on others and taking initiative to reach out is hard for me.  So yea, I’m shy that way.  So I wanted him to know I was ok, but it is not in my personality to reach out and say that.  My dad practically had to force me to send Albee a video.

So it’s a really good thing that he came to visit from January 31^st to February 5^th.  For one, my mom got to go home with him on 2/5, but more importantly, Albee got to see that I’m really ok.  I chose not to be a victim, so the only thing left to do is be a survivor and get on with it, and he saw that.

Albee is almost my opposite.  I’m definitely not tied to the city, but I think he is.  Although after visiting Reno, he might have changed his mind, haha.  Whereas I’m the uptight overachiever who sticks to social norms, he tends to go against the grain, and has taught me so much about letting loose.  And he’s super funny; I think what makes him so funny is that he’s a great storyteller and knows how to keep a straight face.  I laugh hardest at his jokes.  But we’re also very similar: we love to dance, we’re both loud and outgoing, we’re both smart, we both love sports, and are both awed by physical prowess, be it human or not.  I think we complement each other very well.

I have many aunts and uncles, as you can probably tell from my million cousins.  I have family along the east coast, mostly in NYC, but also in CT, PA and FL.  I am not lying or exaggerating when I say every single one of them prayed for me.  I know I’m kind of on the peripheral and I barely speak to some of them, but I am a true De Jesus at heart: even though we’re thousands of miles apart, my family means the world to me, and what they did for me I would do in a heartbeat for them.

There’s Titi Lydia and Uncle Bruce (Brian’s parents).  There’s also Titi Lori and Titi Deb.  There’s Uncle Carlos, and Diana, Karin and her children, Sherene, Jason and Ayanna.  There’s Angelique and Pito, Julie, Candy and Areli, and that’s just naming a few!  There’s so many more; I want to name them all, but that’s just off the top of my head now and I remember the most active on Facebook (oops).  Please know that I send my love to everyone, and I am sending love and prayers to Kelly.

 I consider my closest friends part of my family.  They are very instrumental in my recovery.  They kept in touch with Brian and my parents, and most of them know my immediate family personally now.  My closest friends know who they are; some of them are here, some are in NYC and Philly, and also Chicago and Miami.  They have been there whenever possible, and when not possible, they have kept in touch via text and email (oh and Facebook too).  I want them to know that I love them; it’s because of their generosity that I know there’s a lot of good in this world, and that’s what helped me make the choice to put everything behind me and keep going.

I hate sounding cheesy, so I will simply say that I had to make the decision to just keep swimming so the strength and will to do so is completely mine, but it’s because of the amazing people around me that I know it’s all worth it.

Why I’m here and Why I’m Blogging

You may read this and think I was able to get better this quickly because I had everything available to me – doctors, a great family, good friends, etc.   Yes, I did have all this, I won’t lie, but what I had that I think is more important is the will to take advantage of what I have available to me and to get better as fast as possible.  We all go through life with a feeling of invulnerability; that nothing bad can happen to us.   We end up taking everything for granted, including what is most important to us.  But anything can happen, and things do happen.  I’m not the only example; a lot of people know what I’m talking about.  The only thing we can do about it is make the decision to recover from such a thing.  Yes it helps to have all the pieces in place to assist you, but they mean nothing without the will and determination to use them.  If you find yourself in a situation where things seem like they won’t get any better, please do not give up.  You can make them better, and I hope my story serves as an example.

It isn't what, it's how...

Courtesy of a good friend of mine:

“I believe the single most significant decision I can make on a day-to-day basis is my choice of attitude. It is more important than my past, my education, my bankroll, my successes or failures, fame or pain, what other people think of me or say about me, my circumstances, or my position. Attitude keeps me going or cripples my progress. It alone fuels my fire or assaults my hope. When my attitudes are right, there is no barrier too high, no valley too deep, no dream too extreme, no challenge too great for me.”

-Charles R. Swindoll

Starting on the Road to Recovery

I went back into the office on January 21^st.  I went in from 3-5pm, and made sure my first time back was on a Friday.  I was more nervous about what people would think than anything.  I was nervous that people would not expect me back because the most common perception of a stroke survivor is someone who cannot function normally.  I was also nervous that even though I can do anything and function perfectly, I still sound funny and if you pay attention enough, you can still see that I’m uncoordinated.  I found that I was nervous for no reason.  Everyone was happy to have me back; and though some admitted that they were scared and prayed for me, all of the people at the office treat me the same as they used to treat me.  I started part-time, and switched to full-time on February 14^th.

Work now is pretty much like old times.  I can still sense when some people treat me with kid gloves, but it’s easily acceptable.  It’s more out of concern, and I have learned to accept that, whereas before I got sick, I refused anyone’s help.  It’s the same as at home; I’d prefer to do things by myself, but accepting help has become much easier, which I learned from my stroke.

Also, apparently I was missed.  I now take my absence as an opportunity to step up and be more of a mentor to those who need it.  Five years is not a long time in terms of a career, but it’s a lot for a consultant.  I’ve learned a lot from my experiences, and also from my superiors.  Now my intention is to pass that knowledge down.  I’d also like to pass down my perspective on life; although not everyone has experienced what I have, or have had something similar, but I do think that everyone can benefit from an optimistic outlook on life.

I won’t lie; I do have days where I hit rock-bottom.  I do sometimes feel shitty or ask “why me?” or feel angry about what happened.  My speech therapist says those are normal, that they are part of the grieving process, and that I do have to grieve for the woman I used to be but lost.  Thankfully those days are getting fewer and further between.  I’m not happy-go-lucky all the time.  I’m just a normal person who has bad days, and tries to make the others worth living.  I have to take everything one day at a time; if I try to look at everything as a whole, I get overwhelmed and break down.  Taking one day at a time, though cliché sounding, helps me keep going.

In order to make a recovery like mine, you have to want it badly.  Since I am home now, and even though I am surrounded by people who love me, everything is really up to me.  Getting sick has taught me a lot, but some important lessons I have learned are that anything is possible if you want it badly enough and that people who love you or have your best interests in mind will follow your lead.

Wanting to recover fully has led people to help me along the way.  Because I want it, doctors have told me I can have it as long as I work for it.  I’ve gotten encouragement from everyone, including family, friends, coworkers and even people I barely speak to or who don’t even know me at all!  And because I want it so badly and have gotten the encouragement I need, I truly believe that I will recover fully from my stroke.

My brother came to visit from 1/31-2/5.  Having him here was amazing.  My big brother has always been so important to me; I was always the overachiever, but he has taught me a lot about being down to earth.  I have always felt like a black sheep; I’m really different from him and the rest of my family, but he knows how to bridge that gap.  I don’t even think he knows that.  He got to see Reno, and although my brother and I are so different, he gets me and now understands why I want to live here.  He met mostly everyone who is important to me out here.  Most importantly, he got to see that I’m ok and I got to see that even though he can’t be here all the time, I and my recovery are always at the forefront of his mind.

I can run now.  I look like an idiot doing it, but hey, I’m lucky to be doing it at all.  I run a lot slower than I used to.  I used to average a 9 minute mile, with my marathon pace a 9:40-10:00.  Now my pace is a mile in 15 minutes, but I get tired way faster than I used to.  Baby steps, I keep telling myself.  I go every Tuesday now, as long as weather allows and I feel ok, and starting February 26^th I plan to add in Saturdays as well.  The 10k group starts February 22^nd and my races are in May, June and October.  I can definitely do it; I just have to work my way up again.  It’s like starting to run all over again.  If anything, this is my chance to learn again the right way, and not do things the hard way.

My mom and brother went home together on February 5^th.  I have been alone since.  Even though I am alone in my apartment, I’m not truly alone.  I have the most amazing friends here, and I see at least one of them almost every day.  I have started working full time, have finished OT and am just about done with PT.  I am still going to speech therapy twice a week and I’ll start going to the speech pathology center at the University of Nevada-Reno in March.  I hired a personal trainer and see him three times a week.  I have had follow ups with all my doctors, and see them periodically.  I’m still on Coumadin until further notice.  All the pieces are in place; it’s now up to me to pave the way to a full recovery.

Going Home

When I got home on January 5th, everything changed.  I had finally busted out of the hospital and was in charge of my own recovery.  I was glad to finally take matters into my own hands.

My dad stuck around until January 8^th while mom decided to stay.  Brian and Erica had gone home while I was still in Rehab on 12/30, because I was in such good hands.  Saying goodbye sucked, big time, but in the big picture, it meant independence.  I lived alone before, and I was determined to live alone again.  Not because I’m a loner; I’m actually the opposite and I love being around others.  But I like living alone because it means I don’t depend on anybody for help.  The stroke has taught me how to accept help and also appreciate it, but first I want to try doing things on my own.

Until I was ready to really be alone, we planned on having my mom live with me until the end of March or beginning of April.  She left February 5.  I hope she knows I am saying this with all the love in my heart, but I’m glad she’s gone and that she went back to NYC earlier than both of us had predicted.  The fact that I can depend on myself for everyday things proves that the rehab I got over the holidays was just right and that going home was the best thing for me.  It also proves that I am fully capable, which is what I wanted.

I had dinner the night I came home with Michelle, Tod, Lydia, Mike and my parents.  They provided much needed laughs and company; and really helped me realize how important friends are.  They also relieved some of the stress my parents were feeling.  A week later, Gabe, Andrew and Dennis came over and did the same.  Brad has been there through it all, and Robert has made sure that work is not a worry for me.  I can’t stress enough how important friends are; I can’t name everyone who has touched my life, doing so would be impossible, so I’ll only talk about the core group here, but seriously I wouldn’t have made it this far without friends, and I wouldn’t be able to head towards a full recovery either.  I know I’m incredibly fortunate.

One of the first things I did when I got home was I signed up for RRF’s 10k training program. 

http://www.renorunningandfitness.com/

I had to run again; it’s what I love doing the most.  What better way to start again, than rejoin the group that had welcomed me with open arms and had been with me through my darkest times?  Well, the only thing I can think of is signing up for races that will force me to train:

http://baytobreakers.com/

http://www.renotahoeodyssey.com/

http://www.chicagomarathon.com/cms400min/chicago_marathon/

Yup, I signed up for the Chicago Marathon.  Yes I know I’m crazy, but a whole bunch of my friends and family are doing it too.  To me though, there’s no better way to mark my comeback.

I did go meet RRF on January 18^th.  RRF meets for a short run on Tuesdays, and a longer one on Saturdays.  After the run on Tuesdays, a group of us like to go to the nearby bar for a beer.  This tradition has become known as Beer Tuesday. I couldn’t yet run, and because of the Coumadin, my alcohol intake is limited, so I just met the group for company and water.  I went again on the 25^th, and started walking with them on February 1^st.

I started outpatient therapy after being discharged from the rehab hospital.  In PT, I learned how to walk straight and fast.  It’s amazing what you take for granted until you can no longer do it.  In addition to walking, I learned to run, jump, stand on one leg and balance in general.

In OT, I learned how to survive, to say the least.  We went over and practiced my fine motor skills, which helped me shower, dress, cook, and most importantly, drive.

I can drive now.  To me, that’s incredible.  It gives me freedom to go anywhere my car will take me.  It’s just as important to me as walking.  The two of them together mean freedom, and that’s most important to me and my recovery.

I’m done with OT on the condition that work goes smoothly.  Though my therapist was great, the way work and everything else have been going, I don’t think I’ll be going back.

In ST, I work on how I sound.  I don’t quite sound like what I used to sound like, but at least now I can have a conversation without the other person constantly asking me to repeat myself. My voice is a work in progress.  Right now, I’m still conscious of it, so I’m a bit more quiet than I usually am in public.  I know a whole bunch of people will be in uproar over that comment, but I know.  Trust me I know; I sound way better than I used to, and I sound amazing considering what happened.  But I am impatient, and I am a perfectionist.  Getting sentences out now and getting the sounds right is still difficult and tiring.  Talking is still a chore for me.  I won’t be happy with my voice until I don’t have trouble speaking anymore.  I won’t be happy until it comes out naturally, like it does for everyone else.

I know I have a long way to go, but I think I’m on my way there.

NYC vs Here

One of the most common questions I get is why I didn’t go home to NYC and chose to stay in Reno.  It’s hard to understand unless you are not related to me, you know me really well and you’re like me.  Even though I grew up in NYC, one of the busiest cities ever, I always felt like a black sheep.  Don’t get me wrong, I fit in well, and if you see me in my native environment you’d never guess that I didn’t want to be there.  I think what kept me in NYC as long as I stayed was my family.  Most of them are there, so it’s easy to depend on the cushion they provide.  My parents are there, and so is my brother.  It certainly didn’t hurt that I had friends there.  Not only friends from high school, but a lot of my good college friends moved to NYC after school.  So it made sense for me to move back after school.

However, I always felt like something was missing.  I wanted to move.  Badly.  I knew there was more beyond what I had seen so far.  A combination of things and a series of events landed me in Reno in May 2010.  And for once, I fell deeply in love with where I lived.

Reno is perfect if you like the outdoors.  The landscape is utterly breathtaking.  Also if you like animals and wildlife.  The summers here are dry, warm and sunny; perfect for all water sports, running, hiking, camping, etc.  On the other side, the winters are mild, but cold enough for snow.  We’re right by Lake Tahoe and the Sierra Nevada’s, so skiing is huge here. 

I had just taken up snowboarding and realized that Reno is great for year-round sports, not just in the summer.  If you like animals, they are certainly abundant here.  Here you can see rabbits, deer, quail, coyotes, snakes and even bears and mountain lions.  If you’re from a place where wildlife is common, you may say “so what?” but I’m from NYC.  Where I come from we mostly see pigeons and rats, which are essentially the same.  You consider yourself lucky if you see something else, like a dog.  Reno is different.  Owning horses is really common here, so that caters to my likes, and everyone has a pet.

Because I loved the city and felt at home immediately, my social butterfly self made friends in no time.  Within a matter of months, I had countless friends, mostly from RRF.  I got really close to some of them, and really cherish their friendship now.  Those people should know who they are, but I think you’ll be able to figure it out from this blog.  Soon, I had the same or more friends as I did back home.  But the friendships I made were young, and they would soon be put to the ultimate test.

Most people in Reno are not from Reno.  Since there are so many transplants, everyone tends to have things in common.  We all moved here for different reasons, but have ended up staying for the same reason: The landscape is amazing and Reno is what you make of it, if you like the outdoors.

I’m sure the doctors in NYC are better than they are in Reno.  At the very least, there’s more variety.  But I figured the worst was already over; what I needed the most medical attention for has already passed.  Being in Reno helps me feel more like myself.  I like it here better, plain and simple.

I may not stay in Reno, but I know for sure I want to stay out west.  Who knows what will happen; I will decide when the time comes.