a stroke survivor story

Ok, to be fair, he is closer to 3 than he is 2, but either way, shouldn't I be the one teaching him lessons instead of the other way around? I'm talking, of course, about our grandson, Theo. He came to stay with grandma and grandpa last night, and let's just say that he seemingly never gets tired! As tired as we get, we absolutely adore our only (for now) grandbaby. This morning, is when I learned a very valuable lesson from Theo, both as it applies to life after my stroke, and my life after the loss of my only son, Brendan. Picture it, Sicily, 1924...wait, where did the Golden Girls reference come from? Maybe I should just go back and erase it, but, I probably won't. In fact, the fact you are reading this means I did not...Anyway, picture it, we are oustide this morning; it is a pretty chilly morning, there is some frost on the car windows, we can see our breath, and Theo is watching the dogs play in our backyard. And then he spots it: his "bike." He runs ov

On December 8, 2008, my life changed forever. I had a double sided cerebellar stroke with 2 brain stem compressions. It was not until December 10, 40 hours after my stroke, that surgery was finally done to relieve the pressure. Dr. Piper, the neuro-surgeon from Iowa Methodist hospital in Des Moines, told my wife that surgery was nothing more than an attempt to save my life, but that it would not erase the deficiencies as a result of the stroke. Although she admits that she did not really understand what Dr. Piper had just said, my wife, Laura, agreed to the surgery and the care team performed a decrompessive craniotomy, to hopefully relieve the pressure and allow my brain to function somewhat normally. For those who have followed my blog for the last 14+ years, the surgery was successful, I returned to the church and I now live a relatively normal life, although I do have some pretty severe, though not always visible, defieciencies. I really thought that life could not get any worse th

It has been almost 15 years since my stroke, so you would think that, by now, I would be readily prepared for everything that life can throw my way; but, I often forget what it's like to have a simple head cold after my stroke. Now, understand, I am not suggesting that other people don't feel bad when they have a cold; it is just that it is different for a stroke survivor. Maybe some of the other stroke survivors feel the same way: many times when I get a head cold with the congestion, suffy nose, fever, etc., it begins to feel like I'm having a stroke again. For those who don't know what this is like, let me try to explain. I get up at night, whether to go to the bathroom or some other reason, and I feel completely disoriented for a few seconds. Not like I'm groggy, but that I feel the room is spinning, I can't tell which direction I am going, I forget where the bathroom is for an instant, things like that. On the first day of this last cold, I was going down

First , quit calling us a "victim of a stroke", we are survivors of a stroke; the majority of us have found a way to live, as one professor said, not under our circumstance but above our circumstance! For many of us, we are some of the funniest, loving people you will ever meet. Second , don't expect us to be able to multi-task easily. If a football player tears his ACL, no one expects him to be on the field playing at a high level the next week; most who have suffered a torn ACL never play at a high level again. If a skier breaks his leg, no one expects him to be on the slopes the next week, skiing for gold; most who have broken their leg will never ski at a high level again. If a pitcher has to have Tommy John surgery, no one expects him to be on the mound pitching in game 7 of the World Series the next week; most who have had Tommy John surgery will never pitch at a high level again. What do all of thes have in common? A muscle, tendon or bone was severely injured, a

A few years ago I was presented with the opportunity to come back to Stratford, Iowa, to First Baptist church, as their pastor; for those of you who have followed this blog for some time, FBC in Stratford was my first pastorate. Let's just say I prayed about it as I was jumping at the opportunity. The church has a parsonage, so I could live there and not have to worry about a houe payment; and I needed to slow down, and this was a part time position (which, as a side note, allowed for me to get a greater disability from the VA than when I was working full time with St. Croix Hospice...) We love Stratford, and absolutely love the church; the people are wonderful and accepted us, again, with open arms. This was, for me, the perfect position: I get to pastor a church I LOVE, I get to do life with people I LOVE, and I have already had the opportunity to do weddings and baptism services for kids (adults now) that I have known their entire lives. IT IS GREAT. The longer I have been here,

This February my wife and I did something that we have wanted to do for a long time, but since my stroke we did not know how I would handle it. No, we did not go sky-diving or jet-skiing. We went on our first cruise! Now, admittedly, that seems very peaceful, reflective, and, for lack of a better word, fun...and it was, but there was always a sense of worry since my stroke: how will I handle the flight there, how will I do being in an area with so many people, how will I do on the ocean if the ship starts to sway, what if there are areas with a lot of sensory input like strobe lights, what if there is loud music? Those are all questions that stroke survivors have to ask themselves on, nearly, a daily basis. I think sometimes a lot of people, even our closest cargivers, forget that our brain has suffere a severe trauma and many, like myself, have actually had part of their brain removed because of the dead tissue. Because of that we have to assess every interaction, every potential outi