F.A.S.T. saved my life
By Chloe
It was AFL Grand Final day, 2014. Our house was buzzing as we prepared to host family and friends for the big game. Before everyone arrived, I decided to jump in the shower. My husband, Grant, joined me for a little hanky-panky.
Suddenly felt dizzy and lightheaded. Something wasn’t right. I asked Grant to help me out of the shower, and as soon as I stepped out, my left leg gave way. I collapsed to the ground. Grant immediately lifted me into bed, and that’s when he saw it—the droop in my face, the slurred words.
I kept insisting that I just needed to sleep it off, but Grant knew better. He ignored my protests and called 000 straight away. Thank God he did, because that call saved my life.
Living 45 minutes from the nearest hospital, the paramedics prepared us for the worst. They explained that I might not get the necessary medication in time. When we arrived, the first scans showed nothing. It wasn’t until a CT scan the next day that a clot was visible. The doctors took a risk and gave me TPA medication. To me, it felt like it worked instantly. But for Grant and my mum, who were watching helplessly, it felt like forever.
Just a month after my first stroke, I was on a day release from hospital and rehab. I was at home helping Grant cook dinner when I noticed my left arm starting to shake. My speech slurred. My left side weakened again.
No hesitation this time—Grant called 000 immediately, and we rushed back to the hospital. Another clot. Another stroke. It was happening all over again.
His quick thinking gave me the best chance of survival.
Hearing the doctors say, “You may never walk the same again,” was actually the best thing they could have told me. It lit a fire inside me. I pushed myself in rehab every single morning. My left leg felt like dead weight, dragging behind me, especially when I was tired. My speech was slow, and I couldn’t get my words out the way I wanted. I napped two or three times a day just to function. But I kept pushing.
I worked closely with a speech therapist and an occupational therapist to regain my memory and learn how to put sentences together again.
Hydrotherapy was a game-changer. It’s where I relearned how to walk and regain the strength in my left side. But the real motivation? The doctors telling me I might never run with my kids again. That was NOT an option for me. I pushed through exhaustion. I worked on my speech. I even carried a mirror everywhere to train my face out of its droop.
They say a stroke doesn’t just happen to one person—it happens to the whole family. That couldn’t be more true.
My daughter was only four at the time. To her, all she knew was that Mum got sick and disappeared for six months. Even though she visited me daily, it wasn’t the same as having me home to tuck her in at night. Now, she sees a psychiatrist for abandonment issues. And Grant had to leave his job to become a full-time caregiver for our kids. It affected us emotionally, physically, and financially.
Before my strokes, I think I took life for granted. But I believe everything happens for a reason.
A few years after my strokes, we packed up and moved to the beach. Then, we packed up again—this time, traveling Australia in a caravan, homeschooling all three of our kids for two years. Life is short, and we want to live it to the fullest. Honestly, if I hadn’t had my strokes, I don’t think we would have done half the things we’ve done.
Sharing Knowledge to Save Lives
Today, my mission is to educate others. I even tattooed F.A.S.T. on my hand. People always ask, “What does FAST mean?” And every time, I tell them. Because if knowing those signs saves even one more life, it’s worth it. Just like Grant saved mine.