Different Strokes

Hello Dear Readers!

I lay in the bed at the hospital and said, 'let's see what I have left.' And I could see, I could speak, I could think, I could read. I simply tabulated my blessings, and that gave me a start. Dale Evans

The observant amongst you may have noticed something missing from last week’s post. There were no pics or GIFs, no quotes or subtitles and, in fact… No actual words.

Yes, last week for the first time in a long, long time, Sunday came and went with no new post on the Seated Perspective blog. I can almost hear the wailing and gnashing of teeth from here.

Missing out on my weekly missive to the masses is most certainly not something I take lightly and in fact, there was a very real reason for this unprecedented blip.

What's Your Emergency?

It was Thursday the 23^rd of July when my wife, Tina, was taken into hospital. I arrived home from work that evening as per usual, and watched a little TV to pass the time from my arrival at 9pm, until I was due to pick Tina up at 10pm. I also took the time to check my phone, which I’d left at home, for any messages from Tina, but saw only some numbers that I didn’t recognise and which, given the hour, I didn’t phone back.

This was a mistake.

I pulled up outside Tina’s work at the usual time and was met by one of her workmates who had obviously been watching for my arrival. It was she that told me that Tina had been whisked away in an ambulance with suspected heart problems. You can probably imagine my reaction to this news.

via GIPHY

My mind racing, I headed off and was probably a good couple of miles away before I realised I didn’t know which particular hospital we were talking about. To fill you in there are a least two, and possibly four or five hospitals that could be likely destinations. Faced with this conundrum I grabbed my phone and frantically tried calling the numbers I had the aforementioned missed calls from.

Finding Tina

Unfortunately I struck out, reaching only mailboxes, closed lines, and one message from the estate agents. The only person I could raise unfortunately had no clue as to where the ambulance had been heading. I therefore made haste to Dewsbury & District hospital, which is the closest to us and made straight to A&E.

The nurse who greeted an, at this point out of breath and increasingly frantic husband, informed me that Tina had not been admitted into their care. To my eternal gratitude she then went well above and beyond what her role called for and rang hosptals, until Tina was finally found. She was, I was told, at Pinderfields hospital… In the stroke ward.

Yeah I know, not great news, right? I don’t think I need to tell you that I broke all previous land speed records in getting to Pinderfields (about 12 miles away).  With the addition of a flux capacitor I might just have made it back to 1955. Nevertheless, and time travel notwithstanding, I managed to get there in one piece to find Tina sat up in bed looking pained, tired, and decidedly worried  but without the facial paralysis I’d been fearing.

She was, however, unable to move her left arm or leg and had received a working diagnosis of ‘Mini-Stroke’ or TIA (Transient Ischaemic Attack..) which boils down to a small brain bleed or other disruption in the blood supply of the brain. This diagnosis remained the best theory for 48 hours after which time the symptoms of a TIA should be fully resolved. Although Tina’s condition had improved however, and some function was returning, to date she is still suffering from restricted movement, weakness and constant pain she likens to pins and needles but turned up to eleven (and then a bit more).

I Saw The Sign

It was Monday, with my increasingly impatient wife almost ready to scale the hospital walls, that we got the second diagnosis. This was thanks to a Neurology specialist, who came to see Tina at her bedside. After a few questions and a thorough examination, including a very clever test known as Hoover’s sign (which blows me away even now!)  We were told that Tina was suffering from Functional Limb Weakness.

Now, I think they need to come up with a better name for this, because Functional Limb Weakness just doesn’t sit right with me.  It sounds kind of made up, almost like some kind of malingerer’s disease and in reality that could not be any further from the truth. I won’t bore you with the ins and outs of this nasty condition but for those interested a good link is here. Suffice it to say that the condition presents exactly like a stroke, with numbness, lack of strength and lack of movement in the affected limbs, and it causes the exact same problems regarding walking, carrying, lifting and manipulating objects.

The Waiting Game

The good news is that, as there is no physical damage, the condition should be beatable and a full recovery is more than possible. As no operation or drug regime is going to help in this however, it is going to take time, as well as physical and cognitive therapy. Patience is not a quality that my sainted wife possesses in too much abundance so this is understandably a cause of frustration all round.

What Tina does possess is a huge amount of strength, courage, and more than a little stubbornness. I know that she will fight this and fight it with everything she has. And I know that she will, if you’ll pardon the expression, kick Functional Weakness’s shiny arse until it is well and truly kerb-stomped.  

The frustrating thing from my own perspective is how little I can do to help in this. The running of the household has defaulted in full to my shoulders of course, which is no problem, but I wish I could do something, anything, to help her get better.  I suppose for now all I can do, all any of our family and friends can do, is to lend patient, committed and unwavering support for Tina and to be here when we're needed to lend a hand or an ear.

Still doesn't seem enough though.

Until next time…