Stroke Survivor

In September 2002, a black widow spider bit me. The pain from the bite was excruciating, and I spent four days in the hospital. My blood pressure went way up (usually it's quite low-112 over 80). Two days after I came home from the hospital, I had a brainstem stroke while taking a shower.

Miraculously, I was able to get out of the shower, run to my room, and put on a nightgown before calling 911. "Something is terribly wrong!" I cried into the phone to the Dispatcher. I was able to give her the address as well as directions to my house. I suspected that I'd had a stroke and was testing my memory and mind to make sure all was functioning well.

The ambulance came within 10 minutes (which felt like an hour from this new perspective of mine). By that time I'd made myself crawl out the side door, as I didn't seem to have any strength on my left side. The ambulance attendants tried to lift me onto the stretcher and one of them said, "You have to help us get you up here." ME help THEM? I thought, THEY are supposed to be helping ME! My left side kept collapsing from under me as I tried to climb onto the stretcher.

As we drove out of the driveway, siren blaring, I said, "I think I've had a stroke." The attendant looked in my eyes-as I opened them the whole world slanted to the right! He asked me to squeeze his fingers. I felt my whole world crumble as I realized I couldn't do it. "Oh no," I thought, "I did have a stroke."

At the hospital began my ordeal of the next five months, as I would spend the next five months in the hospital, rehab, and, my worst fear realized, a nursing home. I remember rattling off phone numbers to anyone who would listen-the nurses, my friends, Gail and Isabel..well, at least I still remembered my phone numbers, which seemed to impress everyone no end. I practiced some Portuguese with Isabel, who is Brazilian. The language part of my brain was still in working order, thank God.

I was flown by air from my home of five years, Taos, down to Presbyterian Hospital in Albuquerque, for a MRI and two-week stay and lots of testing. The tests were to try and determine the cause of my stroke. Never having spent time in a hospital except to visit other people, this experience was a real shock to my system. I had always hated hospitals as a child and didn't like them any better now-especially as a patient.

Most of the tests were mundane and non-invasive. But there were a couple of invasive ones I hated and to which I had a bad reaction. As my sister put it, it was as if they were kicking me when I was down, even though they were just trying to help me. It was a very traumatic experience, and at one point, one test they gave me seemed to temporarily worsen the symptoms of my stroke (i.e., more slurred speech).

From Presbyterian, I went for six weeks into St. Joseph's Rehab. I was very lucky to be in that long, since most people's insurance allows them to stay in rehab only three weeks. I have a wonderful sister, Marti, who knew how to work with the bureaucracy and a wonderful insurance representative who helped us greatly through the bureaucratic red tape and have been tremendously supportive of me through my healing process (thank you, Susan!).

After St. Joseph's, I was in rehab for three months at a nursing home, the low point of this whole experience. But now, thanks to my sister, and to Susan and the Independent Living Resource Center, I'm now in my own one-bedroom apartment only five months after my stroke. I'm living happily with my dog, Maddie, and her buddies, Sadie and Jasper. I continue my recovery and rehabilitate at home.