Don't let the old man in

By Bill Jackson

In October 2018, I was at home in Jindabyne packing my backpack to go back country skiing. I felt lightheaded and collapsed on the floor. I thought I had fainted, but I couldn’t stand up. I tried to crawl up a doorframe and then crawl to my bed, but nothing worked.

Eventually I think I passed out. I estimate that I was on the floor for about 13 hours, slipping in and out of consciousness.

The following morning when I didn’t turn up at the rendezvous spot, my buddies knew something was wrong and started calling me. I could hear my phone ringing but couldn’t move to it to answer.

My friends called my son who lives close by. He came to the house and found me on the floor at around 9am. He checked to see if I was alive and then called an ambulance immediately.

The ambulance arrived within a few minutes. I still had no idea what was happening but heard the ambos talking about stroke and medication.

They called for advice on the drugs they could administer, and told my son it was way too late for the clot buster medication. I was put into the ambulance for a trip to the regional hospital at Cooma, about 65 kilometres away.

Scans revealed I had suffered a large right parietal/frontal infarct and I was transferred to Canberra hospital in case surgery was required. Notes from a Cooma Hosptial report say ‘dense left Hemiplegia; unable to shrug left shoulder or move leg or arm at all. Normal left side sensation but visual and sensory neglect/extinction’. I guess in layman’s terms that’s paralysis on the left side and blindness in left eye.

After a week of care at Canberra hospital I was transferred to the University of Canberra Hospital. That’s where I started rehab. By this time, I’d been told that I would probably never surf or ski again and may not even walk.

I remember thinking, bloody hell, I am headed for the bench. But I had a fantastic physio Tim, thought differently. I realise how important it is for someone to be in your corner.

Tim was optimistic about me getting back to something like my old life. On the first day in the gym, he suggested that I no longer use my wheelchair, and asked me for two objectives, short term and long term.

I told him my short-term objective was to be able to get into and out of a wet suit. My long-term objective was to ski. The next season was eight months away, I would need to be fit enough to walk 10 kms on skis.

Tim developed programs to achieve both my goals.

When I left the hospital a month later, I went home with laminated cards telling me how to dress. ‘Find undies, put label at back, left leg in first then right. Find T-shirt look at label, put label at the back, left arm first then right.’

I had an appointment booked with Guide Dogs ACT to learn visual techniques, which included carrying a bright ball in my left hand. I also had a program for twice daily gym sessions to build the strength needed to get back in the water and onto the ski slopes.

In about a month my vision started to come back; and OT sessions to build fine muscle movements were starting to have an impact too – all that bead threading and playing Connect Four worked.

Throughout this time, I had great support from my family. My grandson was very much involved. One of my daily exercises was to throw a ball against a wall and catch it with my left hand. My grandson was in charge of retrieving the balls I missed. He must have found thousands.

Obviously, I was physically impacted by the stroke, but I was impacted emotionally too. Clinical notes from that time talk about confusion, and my wife thought that I might also have been hallucinating. I was unaware of all of that, I knew that I was stubborn and come hell or high water I was going to reach my goals.

And look I did!

I credit my recovery to a few things. My son, who found me and called the ambulance. My stubborn, positive mindset, even though some might have thought that I was unrealistic. My family who supported me, and my team, especially Tim and my OTs. I also found that reading other people’s stroke stories has been a huge help - thanks to Sami and Jake for sharing theirs.

There’s a song by an American country singer, Willie Nelson, called “Don’t let the old man in”. In a modified version, this has become my anthem. The hardest thing for me has been to keep the old physically compromised man out of my mind. It’s a challenge but so far, I am winning.