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Coming back ... slowly
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May 15, 2012 |
By Mike Weland
Publisher
It happened in an instant April 22, so sudden
and subtle that I didn't even know my life had
changed profoundly until I reached for a glass
of ice tea. It's the reason you've seen so
little change on these pages for the past
several weeks.
That Sunday was a good one. I got up early for
my weekly visit with Charles Osgood and Bob
Schieffer, then went out to tend to our birds
and gather eggs. After the sun warmed the
morning chill, I went out to the garden and
began working the rich soil, even got my
potatoes and spinach in.
I gathered up the slash from last fall's tree
trimming and burned off a few piles, the first
step in my spring cleaning. After a long, hot
day, I went in at 5 p.m. to catch the day's
news, pouring a glass of iced tea before sitting
down.
As the news began, I lit a cigarette and sat
back to watch. At the first commercial break, I
reached over to take a sip of tea, or thought I
was. My mind told me I should have the glass in
my hand, but my left hand hadn't left the arm
rest of my recliner. I tried to shift in my seat
so I could figure out what was going on, and
discovered that my left leg wouldn't move,
either.
Still uncertain what was going on, I called out
to my wife, Debbie, and noticed that one side of
my face was numb and my words came out slurred.
It was then that I realized I'd likely had a
stroke, even as part of me screamed in protest
that it just couldn't be.
Still, I did something I'd never done before ...
I told Debbie I needed an ambulance.
On the ride to Boundary Community Hospital, my
hand came back and I came close to asking the
crew to turn around, it was a false alarm, but
in the midst of clenching and unclenching, my
hand stopped moving again. It came back one more
time before we reached the hospital, the last
moment between what was "normal" and what is
now.
Thanks to the care and effort of the good people
of Boundary Volunteer Ambulance and the ER staff
at Community Hospital, I was soon stabilized and
ready for transport to Kootenai Medical Center.
Ironically, after covering BVA's attempt to form
an ambulance taxing district so as to improve
their level of service, I was informed that mine
was one of those transport cases that our
ambulance crews couldn't undertake; I needed
either a registered nurse or a paramedic to ride
with me. I could wait for an ambulance to come
up from Bonner County or I could fly MedStar.
I flew.
In the days since, I've come to grips with my
new condition, learning to get around in a
wheelchair or with a four-point cane, learning
to dress with one hand, to type with only one.
The support of the many friends, co-workers and
neighbors of Boundary County was overwhelming
and so very beneficial; not a day has gone by
that I haven't gotten a little bit stronger or
moved a part of me that I feared would never
move again.
The many people I knew or have come to know in
the medical field, here at home, in the sky and
at KMC, have likewise been wonderful; even when
I was a less than perfect patient.
My first stay in a hospital since I was born
lasted until May 11, when Debbie and my sister,
Laura, driven by family friend Heather Gemmrig,
came and got me and brought me home a week
earlier than my doctor recommended. It's great
to be back in the community I've grown to love
as the home I never had.
While I have a long way to go to regain whatever
I am able, being home again makes the work and
toil easier somehow, and getting back to writing
news and updating this site, even with a slow,
one-handed start, gives me purpose.
It happened in an instant, and despite ample
warning over long-term high blood pressure, a
two-pack a day smoking habit and an
over-fondness for beer, I never thought it would
happen to me.
I am one of the more fortunate. As strokes go,
mine was fairly mild; my mind wasn't muddled and
I still have use of the hand I earn my living
with. With work, I have a fair chance of
re-learning the use of muscles I long took for
granted.
While harsh, I've come to see this as a
blessing, a warning shot across the bow. A
sudden awakening and a second chance to truly
appreciate the important things; family, friends
and neighbors, the opportunity to give and be
part of something much bigger and better than
any single one of us.
I am grateful. |
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