Grabbing hold of life
By Meegan
I was thirty-three when I had my stroke. It was lunch time, and I was at work. I went to the fridge and as I turned back, the world started to spin, the light became blindingly white, and I began to collapse. Grabbing the table, I managed to sit down.
I was alone in the lunchroom. I could hear colleagues, but the door was shut, and I couldn’t get up to let them know that I was in trouble.
Not knowing what to do, I called my partner. Then a workmate walked in and saw me, and the office sprang into action.
My manager called an ambulance, whist another teammate held ice to my forehead and neck, as I was burning up.
When the paramedics arrived, they treated me immediately for the pain, and I was asked several questions. I had had an operation eight days earlier, and for that reason they put my symptoms down to vertigo. Unfortunately, this caused a delay in my treatment for stroke. It was another six hours later, when the MRI and CT scans came back, and they made a conclusive diagnosis of ischaemic arterial dissection cerebral stroke.
Outside the window of treatment, I was given aspirin and kept in the Stroke Unit for three days, then transferred to the general ward for another week. On the day of my discharge, I finally saw an OT, Physio and a Speech Pathologist, and was informed that a community team would follow up.
Once home, I was left pretty much to my own devices. It took two weeks, and a follow up call from me, for the community team to get in contact. It was too close to Christmas for a session, so I waited until January to see an OT.
By that time, I had taken things into my own hands, and organised my own sports therapist and was well on my way in my recovery. By February I had passed the physio and OT tests, and was given the all clear to get back to work and driving.
The OT and my workplace organised a form of a ‘back to work plan’, starting with limited hours and building up. It worked well, until I was expected to be back at work full-time doing the same tasks as before me stroke. The fatigue was crippling, and I put so much pressure on myself I had a couple more funny turns.
I looked like myself on the outside, so I don’t think my manager could grasp the impact the workload was having on me. I suffer from fatigue, pain, memory deficits and speech and word finding difficulty when I do too much. In the end I had to resign, the workload was just unmanageable.
Although I am improving, I am still in constant pain from muscle spasticity, which I manage through fortnightly physio sessions.
I am still sad that I couldn’t stay at work, but I am glad that I didn’t keep pushing myself just to try and meet the expectations of other people. It’s too much of a burden to carry when your brain and body feels scrambled. I can now take the time to focus on myself with the support of my family.
