Remembering what we Forget

before i finished the last entry, i knew i was forgetting something. thin is i couldn't recall what it was, and if i keep on much longer i will forget again.
Idid ask my ex how long i was in the 1st hospital, and she said about a month.
i did some quick math in my head and knew this couldn't be true, so i said ' are you sure, a month?' she didn't seem so sure so i thunk on it for a bit and recalled that the day i left was some significant date. so, all i had to do was figure that date out and then knowing i was admitted on the 7th or so, i could easily deduce the amount of time for my stay in the first hospital.
my sister was here as well and suggested that the hospital keeps records, which i am sue is true and i am rather certain that i would be entitled to see them. but, i dont know how important it is to be dead on accurate at this juncture.
i came up with the date of feb. 14th, which seemed like a significant date and the 3 of us all thought that was a reasonable date, time enough for all the tests they did and such. 2 weeks.
the title of this post says alot about my condition. i forget things alot of the time. i was never good at remembeing birthdays and such,or actually, it would be more accurate to say, i was never good at remembering to acknowledge a persons bday by sending a card or such. John Kawie talks about it over at life is at the curb with his post thanks for the memories. pretty funny stuff that guy writes.
he uses post it notes and that would work for me but so far each time i've managed to think about writing something down, by the time i find paper and ink, i've forgotten what it was i wanted to write down. aint that funny.

usually its mundane stuff like forgetting to watch a television program i had made a mental note towatch. occasionally tho, its a tad more real, or surreal perhaps. just the other day i went to the bank but when i got there, i had forgotten why i was there, i sat i my car for about 10 minutes trying to figure out what the fuck to do. luckily a nice lady came over and helped me sort things out. she used common sense. since i was at a bank, most likely it was for the purpos of withdrawal or deposit. now i don't go to the bank to withdrawal money,hardly ever, so i was fairly sure that was not it. then we found my disability check in the passenger seat and poof, it came to me, was there to deposit my check, which is now st up for direct deposit.

i was at my parents house for a couple or so months after being disharged, no wait im getting ahead of myself. hospital to rehab, do not pass go, do not stop for a smoke. i'll have to figgur out the rest of the time frames some other time.

since my last post

which by the way was done almost entirely with dragon.

hooany, ive talked to my friend and altho she did not mind me talking about her on my blog, she wasn't too keen on the picture i chose. i agree its not that great a pic, but it was the only one ihad of her with clothes on, cept the one where it looks like her hair hosted a bird orgy. i'd put that up but she does visit here and that would be trouble i don't want.

i went to my old rehab hospital and became dismayed to find out that about half of the therapists that worked with me are no longer there.

there were two phases of rehab.

1. inpatient -- upstairs

2. out patient --downstairs

the upstairs ladies were gone

the downstairs ladies were mostly there, but being i arrived at a busy time, not all of them were able to drop what they were doing(patients) to visit with me. only the ones that loved me the most took time out to give me a hug and say hello.

here are two of them, the only two that allowed me to take a photo:

thats judith on the left, occupational therapist, trish on the right, physical therapist

they gave me permission to talk about them as long as i didnt say any thing mean, or

inappropiate....

all i can say about Trish is that she was/is smoking hot, and she really cared about her 'clients'.

she called the 'patients', clients. i didn't agree with that term but it really didnt matter when she was up close trying to help me get my arm to move, or my leg to bend.

oh i promised her i would say that i probably didn't do any of the home exercises she 'told' me to do.

now judith had had some sorta bionic knee replacement when we started working together. she wasn't walking that much better than i was back then. she wore this metal brace which went from her foot to just above her knee, quite sexy, i remembre being afraid she was going to crush some part of my body with that thing. she was constantly jumping around changing position during some of my exercises. she always smelled nice. i remember that too.

bob was there as well. bob only has one arm. he lost it some 30 years or so ago in an accident of the type that can permanantly maim a person. he must of been quite young cuz he didnt look much older than 30 when i met him.

us 'clients' referred to him as one armed Bob, no disrespect, but there were like 2 other therapists named bob working there and we needed a way to distinguish them when we talked about them behind their backs.

well one armed Bob was one of the senior therapists and you might think how can he safely work with a client with only one arm. easy he made the junior therapists do his heavy work, unless the client was able to lift or pull or push, then that task became part of the therapy.

ok ok i kid. i know i probably exaggerate. all the therapists that worked with me were wonderful, especially the ones with boobs, except the guy who made me put my feet on his man boobs in the pool. the exercise made sense, but none of the female pool therapists had me do that exercise. i do not recall the young mans name.

going back there yesterday brought back alot of memories.

Ella the turd nurse was there but no sighting of the poopnazi.

it was alot of walking, which pleased my therapists. but, i became quite tired rather quickly. i have a scooter but need a lift for it so as i can tote it around on my various excursions.

in the beginning

Okay let's talk about my initial symptoms which I mentioned previously
both arms, legs not moving
eyes not opening.
speech slurred.
not able to process data
could not turn my head to the left

okay could not move neither one of my arms or my legs or my feet or my hands could not make a fist nor could I wiggle my toes today some 18 months later I have full movement of my right arm and my right leg and I would say approximately 5 to 10% movement in my left arm and my left leg I really miss wiggling my toes on my left foot is quite a joy to do so with my right foot which I am doing right now as I type
the movement of my right side returned rather quickly before I left the first hospital I do not recall how soon exactly I don't even know how many days or weeks I was in that first hospital I suppose I could ask someone before I published this cut is currently 5 a.m. so I don't want to wake anyone up for something so trivial
okay my eyes not opening now my pop could probably talk on this better than I ever could if my memory serves me correctly he was the most frustrated about me not opening my eyes and was not afraid to encourage me to open my eyes I don't know if I couldn't or if I just wouldn't I do remember my dad practically begged me to open them thinking back on it perhaps I was afraid of what I might see if I open my eyes but I did eventually open them probably on the second ord third day I did not like what I saw I was in a hospital room or bed probably both I had to IVs in one arm and one in the other i wase wearing the famous hospital night gown, I think, I might have been just been naked my dad was there along with Amelia and nursing staff were scurring inand out of the area maybe I thought I was having a bad dream and did not want to wake up until it started getting good I do not remember any pain being involved with the eye opening
slurred speech I cannot verify this but I think that another might and I'll have to talk to her about it before publishing. But since I have a serious Problem with Dragon I can only suspect that my speech is not 100% recovered I can tell you that I never have to repeat myself at the McDonald's drive-through nor the Whataburger drive-through nor the Taco Bell drive-through but there have been times like at target or Wal-Mart when I'm asking for help from an employee, I am required to repeat myself to be understood
processing data my job before stroke was as a systems analyst which entailed maintaining mainframe software applications I did a lot of data analysis as part of my testing process it was second nature to me I did not always enjoy it but overall it was fun and paid the bills
at stroketime and now even I cannot process data very well for example: decision making the first decision I recall having to make poststroke was which rehab hospital to go to this decision seemed to be very important to the doctors and nurses asking me to make this decision I had never been to a rehab hospital nor had I ever wanted to go to a rehab hospital so my answer to them was simply send me to the best one now this decision in my mind was final but dad being dad wanted me to think about it longer I mistakenly thought he would do some research on the three available rehab hospitals and get back with me with information however this was not the case the only data that he could come up with for me to process was witch hospital would be easier for him to get to and also my friend amelia. So that is how I decided on which rehab hospital to go to
turning my head to the left at the time of the stroke and for approximately 1 month after I could not or would not turn my head to the left it was not because I couldn't physically turn my head to the left it was because my brain had decided there was no reason to turn my head to the left doctors told me it is called left side neglect basically your brain is tricked into thinking you do not have a left side so if someone were talking to me while standing to be on the left i would freak out just a bit also I tended to walk into a lot of door jams once I started walking I also remember scratching my left side abdomen area when my left arm itched. it was and is a weird phenomena

But most of that was then and now things are different they are better I do turn my head to the left i tend to need to when I drive.
Today I can walk it's not a very pretty walk but I can walk no cane no walker its more of a hobble but I get where I'm going once i sett my mind to it I don't like walking very far because I get tired very easily since my right side is overcompensating for my left side my right hip can get quite sore its most painful

peace

dragon

i actually have dragon naturally speaking. this entry is sprta a reply to KajaPokers' comment. figured lot of people don't read the comments, so...

any way. i picked up a copy at target, installed it, tried it out and was not impressed.

the microphone is prolly not the best quality, altho it is the one that came with it.

but mainly. it has to be trained and this takes patience, which i am sorely lacking. plus it is quite slow and actually slower to use, for me than just typing. i will now dictate the above 3 paras, to show the difference.

forgice me

I actually had Dragon NaturallySpeaking this entry is sort reply to con job pokers comment figured of people don't read the comments so
Anyway I picked up a copy at target installed the dried out and was not impressed
The microphone is probably not the best quality and although it is the one that came with it.
But mainly it has to be trained in this takes patience which I am sorely lacking plus it is quite slow and actually slower to use for me than just typing out not to excite the above three paragraphs to show the difference if such is said illustrate the difference
additionally it doesn't actually work in non-Windows applications for example the blogger text window from water.com or Google blogger and her blogspot or if it types all that I'll be amazed, mumble or that I'm aware of when I mumble so is a plus correct answer bunch of mumbo-jumbo at KSC was early Al Qaeda since it doesn't work in this rock or text window I had to use its own text window and then cut and paste the results page is tied to Al Qaeda thinking of our ones say makes it much more difficult than us were so far I have plans to improve my want to be writers environment so maybe I get these cock pussy place you

i kept talking after the initial 3 lines cuz it appearred to be working, then i started laughing and finally isaid, ok enuff.
Test 123 test 123 okay cool I just realized I was seen with the incorrect text box for using one as applications as using the Dragon pad was a psychedelic pattern very bad and I should have been using a case's musing on what apparently was bringing up
well that was interesting.


the short of it tho. i don't 'mind' typing one-handed. really. maybe when i finish my office i'llget some trustworthy geek type in here to help me wit certain software.


in addition. thanks KP, your suggestion is appreciated.

deciding what to write about

well i've no problem thinking about stuff to write about, but i want to put it all down in some semblance of order. it would be easy to just start typing out stories one after the other, but as i do that i realize sumtin i say might not make sense without an account of a previous experience.



that said, stuff that has happened most recently tends to be fore most in my mind as opposed to stuff from 18 or so months ago.

plus i don't want to bore anyone, least of all myself.

i've already given the readers a chance to be confused at least once.

i've mentioned 'my friend'. well her name is amelia, and she is much more than a friend. we met as coworkers, years ago(1989), became friends and more. she is currently my ex girlfriend and best friend. i insisted on the friendship part, despite her objections. i was not so keen on the 'ex' part.

lets see if i have a photo


not the greatest, but best i could do on short notice. anyhoo, this is the friend that found me and stayed with me for 3 days or so in the beginning.

she is a strong women, with a big heart. she had just lost her father the previous december and then in february, she lost her grandmother, while i was adjusting to my tragedy. i didnt see her for a couple weeks, but i certainly understood.

ok, so thats cleared up right. friend=ex=amelia.

the lady in the ambulance taking me from hosp #! to hosp#2 was quite nice. her only concern was that i was comfortable, and i was only concerned about being comfortable, so that worked out. i realized at some point, that no mattre how special she may have made me feel, i was just another delivery to her. just another package to be picked up and dropped off. her hair was a bit askew, so i figured she had had a rough day. i was nice to her. i didnt pee on her gourney.

they wheel up me up to my new 'home'.transfer me to my new 'bed'(it had lots more buttons) and i meet 'bill' for the first time. i mentioned him before. he asked if i had had dinner, i had not, and promptly fed me. nice guy. he also gave me 'peeing in a plastic bottle' pointers.

don't laugh. its not as easy as you might think with one hand, lying on your back.

i spent alot of time on my side, that first week in rehab.

the meds started and the shit hit the fan literally.

these bozos gave me a laxative and a stool softener. i wasn't aware of this until about 2 weeks latre after i had grown quite tired of sitting in my own poo, i asked what meds i was being forced to take.

it was a shitfest fer sure. it was so bad they started coming in the room wearing hazmat suits.

you nust understand. i couldnt get out of bed by myself and half my ass was paralyzed. when my bowels decided to move there was nothing to stop them from breaking on thru to the other side.

the poopnazi nurse was convinced that there was something wrong with me and i did not disagree with her assessment. but we did almost come to blows on her diagnosis. i don't remember what desease she was convinced i had, but i do recall screaming at her about the meds being the problem. she informed me that all patients get those meds cuz stroke victims tend to have a bit of a problem 'moving'. she said it was standard.

now this was the one time i got sorely pissed. no Doctot talked to me before these meds were administered and i wasnt blowing crap across the room in the first hospital. i quit taking the meds until i talked to a doctor.

they finally saw it my way and i became regular.

moral:if you or a loved one are in a hospital, dont take any meds unless you know what they are and what they are for.

one time after i graduated out of the diaper, they put a port a pottie next to my bed. it was a chair with a hole in it, with room for a bucket. sure to ruin any decor.

anyway, a nice young nurse helped me out of bed to the chair, encouraging me to hold it, but no bucket!, she had to leave me to fetch the bucket, she asked me ' can you hold it?

i was concentrating on sitting on this paul bunyun chair(my feet dangled) and on holding it, and silently berating her for not being prepared. i could tell she was trying not to panic and i could tell she was failing. i started to see humor in the situation and before i knew it i yelled ' i'm coming!' now im sure i meant to say ' its coming' or 'i cant hold it' but when your brain is damaged, there is no telling.....

this precious innocent young girl, stuck her hand under the seat, no glove, no towel,no nothing, just her bare hand, and caught my turds as gravity did its thing. it was a brief initial movement and i assured her i could hold it til she fetched the bucket.

then she went to wash her hands and me, i let loose the dogs of war..

next she showered me and i probaly took a nap.

i'm not gonna mention her name. cuz i don't remember. but a guy tends to fall for a gal willing to catch his turds. maybe it was the shower.

i wonder how she wrote that up in her report. they wrote up everything. i shouold have. i wanted to. i asked frieds and familt to get me a laptop. this blogging idea started quite early. i couldn't convince anyone to bring me a laptop. i couoldn't even get a big chief tablet.

i did keep a log of evertime i fell, but i turned it in when i was discharged. i wish i had made copies. i wonder if i go back if they will have my original notes. i want to go back and take pictures, so.....

ok, the turd nurse, lets call her ella, when she showered me, it was heaven. she was willing to bathe mostly my entire body. lets just say during my times with her in the shower were the only times i was upset that i had one working arm. the other nurses thought they were therapists and had me bathe myself, which is not so bad if you don't mind being half clean. couple of them wouold just make sure i got to the shower safely, then say pull the cord when your done.


ella was sweet i liked her.

ok, did you read all of this, you better had, i took the time to type it...

peace

what is hell, anyway....

i recall a time, while in rehab, asking myself. what if i've died and gone to hell. and then, what if hell is nothing more than a conyinuation of your own miserable, pointless life.

no one can really know, right? even those that are convinced they know what hell is, i like to call them zealots ot cultists. they like to call themselves 'catholics'.

hell is just what an individual creates in his or her own imagination, right?

so that could very well mean one persons hell prolly is not as bad as another persons hell.

in my hell there are people that say stupid things like ' this is just gods way of telling you to slow down'.
or worse
'at least your not dead'. well fuckity fuck if i arent dead.

i hear things like you need to get out more, or try walking around the block..it will do you wonders, you'll see. and i want to stab them wondering if that would do me wonders. im in hell right, they are not really here, what harm could it do.

but then again, perhaps i am in purgatory. that place you go while god decides what to do wit ya.

peace

no title

i added a pic at the bottom. she is a lovely young girl, altho i think that picture sucks. it was taken post stroke,otherwise it would certainly do her justice as photography is a passionate hobby of mine, least it used to beand i'm somewhat adept at taking good pics.

anyhoo, i met her in the rehab hospital and we became friends. she has a killer body and very soft skin. its been close to a year since i've even seen or talked to her, so not sure why i am even bothering. i suppose i miss her and she was definately a part of this stroke experience.

i once asked her why she would be interested in a fat, bald, crippled old man. she never answered me, but i guess i gave her something to think about.

she is quite young, 20 or so years my junior. 1 or 2 years younger than my daughter in fact. she was in an auto accident and suffered a few broken bones, namely vertabrae in her neck and lower back, hip, couple in her arm. pretty messed up. she recovered rather well and helped me thru the beginnings of me being on my own(details on that latre).

she told me she wasn't looking for romance,and i sure i thought if not said, ok, no problem, we dont have to have romance.

now ofcourse i didn't have any idea what she meant, her being female and like most of that ilk, not capable of saying what they mean.

i really liked her alot, she made me laugh when i thought i could not ever laugh again.

now laughing at things she would say or do prolly didnt help, cest le vie.

ok i dont miss her so much no more(for now at least)
peace

its been done

ok, ok, i know i've failed again at maintaining this blog, but, i did find another blog of sorts, written by a man who has lived in similiar circumstances that i am currently 'enjoying'.

life at the curb

oh wow i rememberesd how to link. i'll have to add that link to my list on the left/right, whichever side its on. heck, a link list may not even exist yet.

anyway. i found an article of his in 'the stroke connection' a semi regular 'magazize' that happened to be in my bathroom, and since it had directions to a website, i looked him up.

i have not yet reads all that is there, but i will, i may even try to contact him.

heh

so when we left off, i was out of the tub and in the ambulance? well somehow between the tub and the emergency room they managed to stick a cathiter in me. at the emergency room was when i either realized or remembered that i was quite hungry due to a nurse or such offering cookies to the ambulance guys. they both graciously refused and i offered to eat their share, but lil did i know that stroke victims dont get to eat right away upon entering the hospital. or drink.

my pop arrived not too long after i did. ok ok stop. i really dont remember the first few days at the first hospital. they did alot of tests and wouldn't feed me.

my friend, she was there 24/7 i think. she was always there when i woke and when i dozed off. my pop was there alot andothers 'visited'. some would call first and askif it was ok to come see me, since my brain was damaged and i was unable to process any data, that might lead me to decide to say ' no you cant come' and since i was hungry, i would almost always say "yes ofcourse you can come and please bring mr M&M's, fried fruit pies, and rc cola". my brother was the only one that heard that request, apparently.

i was in 3 different areas of the first hospital for various amounts of time

1. emergency room
2. imc - intermediate care. similiar to ICU.
3. recovery room(or you can leave once we get the $ from ur insurance room).

to quell/quench my thirst, my good dear friend would soak a paper towel with tap water and squeeze the water out over my open mouth. she showed my pop this trick and he would also help me this way.

i think i was there for 4 days before they fed me (meatloaf). now remember i was in that tub fer 3 days already, so i was rather starved after a week.

turns out they were concerned that my swallowing mechanisms in my throat were paralyzed and i would not be able to swallow correctly. their biggest fear was me getting liquid in my lungs and catching pneumonia. my biggest fear was starving to death.

twas me pop that pitched a bit of a fit that got them rolling in the direction to feed me. i had to take a 'barium test' which is swallowing this foul tasting goo while being xrayed. if the goo goes where it is supposed to go, i pass the test pass the test, i eat. i passed the test.

my friend fed me as both my arms were not moving in the beginning. lets see, in the beginning it was like this:
both arms, legs not moving
eyes not opening.
speech slurred.
not able to process data
could not turn my head to the left

i think they did 3 ct scans/mri's, or such plus some similiar type tests on my heart.

i was trapped. i could just barely scooch up or down in the hospital bed. i couldn't turn over and i recall 'needing' to turn over. one of the nurses on duty would turn me over on my side regulary and i fell in love with her for this. one time she left me turn over all the way on my stomach and i dont remember ever being more comfortable than at that moment. i suppose i was turned back over at some point but i dont rember it. she showed my friend how to safely turn me and i was set.

the tube stuck up thru my penis and beyond starting bothering me and becoming painful, so i bitched and moaned about it. so they decided to switch to a 'condom cathiter' which works similiar to the 'foley cath....' but much less evasive. two nurses under took the switcheroo. one was holding my hand and caressing my forehead and cheeks/face, while the other one yanked the tube out and told me to breath. i might had died had that second nurse not been there, im not sure, dont care to ever find out. then the yanker told the caresser, hand me the condom. then she yanked on me a bit and it appeared she was measuring me vs the condom, which was confirmed when i heard her say' no no, he needs the large one'. to think i might have missed that exchange had i insisted on being put under for the proceedure.
now this new urination aid was certainly bettre than the previous, but it too had its cons.

before i left there i was peeing in a plastic bottle, or on myself in a diaper. i'll spare you the details of the poop escapade.

eventually i was released from the first hospital and on my way to the rehab hospital which we will save for latre posts.

oh my

i just realized i had comments on this facsilimi of a blog. jimmity. and now i don't remember how i found them. somehow a list came upand i was able to publish or reject.

i used to get an email on my other blog -- the poker related one.

i knew someone or two was visiting, my weely site meter report told me so. and it twernt me.

i figured it might be pauly or april or both, perhaps scottMc.
(sorry i didn't link those up).

Factgirl was kind enough to mention me on her blog. i think i hit on her during a vegas gathering a december or two ago, and perhaps now she is stalking me.

thanks for all the well wishes and kind words.. and please know that altho i am down, i am not out.....
i miss playing live, the felt and all, but i've been thinking about making my way to clicks south, a pool hall where i first started playing live. its free to play and im fairly certain people will fold to a one armed one legged man with half a brain..:)

oh, and im starting to remember how i did so well on absolute before the stroke, and at the risk of turning this back into a poker blog, ill share my latest epifiny(my spelling post stroke sucks)

i remembered that people at absolute play really dumb and consistantly make stupid choices. then i remembered luck favors the stupid and my excitement waned.

so i have to remember how i took advantage of these people's less than intelligent choices.

i never forgot that patience and discipline are my best weapons. but im starting to believe the stroke took both of those along with my arm and my leg.

to my teacher friend - no im not snraking off to vegas, altho ive thought about it. i really am not keen on trying to travel via air and the drive alone would most likely result in my death.

i do want to go tho.

check is late

ha ha. my disability check did not arrive on the 9th as promised by our government. i have not checked my mail since that day, so its prolly sitting in my malbox right now.

i really don't have anything to blog about. let me tell you a lil stoey from my rehab stay.

ok, when i first starting using the toilet on my own, they insisted on some supervision. i was not standing up from a sitting position very well, and also cleaning myself without falling off was tricky at best.

any i thought nothing could be more humbling at 45ish years old than a young 20ish very pretty lady(therapist) wiping my ass. theeen a day or two latre i learned i was wrong when a 30ish might be gay, certainly not pretty man(nurse) wiped my ass for me.

these days i manage on my own.

think about it. im right handed, so when it comes timefor the wipe. i tend to lift up my right side a bit. no big deal right. well my left side is paralyzed, which supports all my weight on the commode while im 'lifting'. i had to retrain myself to lift in an alternate manner. i've said too much on the mattre, i'm sure, so ill stop there.

poker is still going fairly well, altho i'm still wanting a new comp and desk.

peace