I had a stroke on Saturday night: Part 3

Thank you so much to all of you who read Part 1 and 2 and either liked or commented. I feel the well wishes and the love!  Before I get too deep into this post, I must tell you that I fully recovered from this episode. Multiple doctors and neurologists have confirmed that I have no deficits, no residuals, and I am recovering and doing well. This is the last part of my blog recounting my experience with having a stroke which occurred on Saturday, Oct 4th, 2014.  Read I had a Stroke on Saturday night Part 1 and 2 (links at the end of this blog entry) for events that led up to this post. Stay tuned! I am still processing what happened and I find that writing about it helps me and my loved ones, so thank you for reading. I feel blessed..

The information board in my room.  

I finally made it upstairs to my room.  676 Window. There was a dry erase board with all of the information I needed to know at that moment. It was only a few minutes before midnight so my nurse wrote the date 10/5 instead of 10/4. Laura was her name.  She was very sweet, and informative like Crickett. She asked me what happened to me so I told her. She listened intently.  After hearing my story, she performed a neuro check and asked me about my vision.  I looked to my right, where Sean was now sitting and I gasped! It was the first time I realized that my vision was back!  No more double vision or blurriness on my right side. Whew! Thank goodness that’s over.  I couldn't help but smile! 

Laura walked out and returned with a couple of folders to give me. One of them was a stroke packet.  Why is she giving this to me?  Didn’t she hear me say I didn't have a stroke? I quickly glanced through the material, but didn't feel the need to read it because after all, it didn't apply to me.

She also gave me an informational packet about the hospital, Vassar Brothers Medical Center.  Of course I dove right into this packet to educate myself on this hospital!  HA!  Only I would end up in a hospital where the chefs are all grads from the Culinary Institute of America!  I guess that makes sense because they’re only up the road from here.  I proudly told Sean this fact, and he agreed that this was very appropriate for me! If you are a foodie, then I know you can relate to my excitement upon this discovery!

I needed to use the restroom again.  This time, I was determined to go on my own.  However, I was labeled a Fall Risk.  This meant I had bright yellow socks on, a yellow wristband that said FALL RISK, and above my bed, a bright yellow sign with the same words. My bed had an alarm that would go off whenever I got up.  It weighed me, all 125lbs of me.  Laura informed me that before I get up I have to call for a nurse.  Someone would then come and disarm the bed to prevent the annoying relentless beeping sound and an automated announcement saying, “urgent, patient left bed 676” which would repeat over and over until it got reset.

A nurse aid finally came so I got up and went to the bathroom unassisted.  I made it.  I felt a bit shaky, and I was moving slowly but I was able to walk on my own.  I looked in the mirror and saw that my eyes were bloodshot.  My face was red and swollen.  My hair, well, no need to describe that but you can imagine.  Wow!  I looked like I had just been through hell!  I looked worse than I felt.  I have never seen my eyes and face this way before.  I walked back and as I was getting back in my bed, I said to Sean, "wow I look terrible."  He said, no you don’t.  You look way better than you did a few hours ago.  Maybe he was being nice, maybe he was in denial.  I don’t know.  I wondered how I must’ve looked a few hours before...

The good thing is that I didn’t have to pay for my TV!  I watched SNL, laughed a bit and fell asleep at some point.  Laura woke me up every couple of hours for a neuro check:  she checked my blood pressure and my temperature. She asked me to raise both arms over my head, smile, stick my tongue out, resist the direction she was pushing with her hands on my feet and push the opposite way using my feet against her hands.  I did well each and every time. And my blood pressure slowly and steadily came down.

My MRI was scheduled at 8:30am the next day. It was quick.  Loud, banging, clanking noises and 20 minutes later I was done.  When I got back upstairs to my room, breakfast was there waiting for me. It was surprisingly good!  Well, the chefs are from CIA so it had to be good!  I was feeling good because I thought I would be going home later that day.

Dr. Ritter came to share the results of the MRI.  He gave me a printout with words I didn’t recognize.  He told me in this conversation that I had an event.  I heard it as a mini stroke, although I realized much later in the day that I misheard him. He spoke to me in a very comforting way.  He also said I couldn't go home yet. Not that day. This surprised me. I fully expected to be discharged that day and so I was really confused when he told me otherwise. After he left, I had a weird suspicion that I didn’t hear something correctly.  I regretted not reading that stroke packet Laura gave me the night before.  

Sean walked in as soon as Dr. Ritter left my room.  I told him the doctor said I had a mini stroke. He was shocked and asked me if I was sure.  I asked my nurse to see if Dr. Ritter could come back and explain everything to Sean. At the moment, I couldn't remember what he said. But I was told that he was gone and Dr. Dani would be coming up soon.  I texted my brother Roy and asked him to be the one to tell my parents that I had a mini stroke.  I told him that I didn’t want to get upset.  Could he please do this for me, and he said of course.  

Dr. Dani, the neurologist came by a few hours later and confirmed the findings.  He said I had a stroke.  Wait, WHAT?  I asked him to clarify.  Was it a stroke, or a mini-stroke?  I thought it was a mini one?  I didn’t even know the difference at that point, but mini sounded better than not-mini.  I made him repeat himself over again.  And then I said it out loud.  “So we are clear, you are saying I DID have a stroke.  Is that what you are saying?”  He said, “YES, but no deficits.  That is good! No deficits.”  I replied, "So you're saying I had a stroke STROKE?" He said yes, but repeated the words "no deficits." What does that mean?  No damage?  He showed me a picture of my brain scan and pointed to a dark spot in the right hemisphere of my brain.  He said there, there is where it happened.  I couldn’t breathe.  What am I looking at? My thoughts starting running away from me...Brain damage?  A dark spot?  Dead space?  Useless mass?  OMG!  I HAD A STROKE! Gulp!!!

Tears welled in my eyes.  I couldn’t breathe.  I didn't want to cry.  But I couldn’t hold back the tears.  I wanted to scream and yell out loud, WHY???  Why did this happen to ME?  I take care of myself, my body, my mind.  What was the point of doing all of that?  This doesn't make any sense!  

Even right now as I am typing these words, the emotions take-over me and it still feels RAW.  

I have never ever in my life felt so helpless as I did at that moment.  I felt weak, soft, and sad that I was no longer who I always thought I was.  Strong, invincible, powerful!  I laid back down on the bed.   Dr. Dani looked at me, and reiterated that this was positive because I HAVE NO DEFICITS and that's all that matters. I looked at Sean, then I looked at my sister-in-law, Jackie who arrived just moments before. I had no energy.  No words. I didn't want to feel bad and I didn't want them to feel bad for me. Dr. Dani said the words NO DEFICITS repeatedly in hopes that this would comfort me. But it didn't. I didn’t understand what this meant until later on in the evening when nurse Laura came back for her shift.

In the meantime, I texted my family and closest friends and told them I had a stroke. An official stroke. I didn't want to talk to them so a text message was perfect.

Laura came back that evening.  She told me she read my chart and saw the results of the MRI. She said “sorry.”  I knew she meant it. She said that she knew I had a stroke the night before when she gave me the stroke packet to read.  Upon reflection later on, I realized that she is after all, a nurse in the Stroke Unit and has experience seeing patients with symptoms like mine.  She went on to tell me that I am very lucky.  That I should feel blessed.  That someone, somewhere is looking out for me.  That for me to have a stroke in the area of my brain where it happened, and to come out of it the way I did, with no deficits, no loss in memory, speech, motor functions, is very, very rare.  She said it over and over, “You are very lucky!”  

After Laura walked out of my room, I pulled out the stroke packet and read it in great detail. Next, I read the results of my MRI word for word. Under the word Ischemia, which I now know refers to a loss or reduction of blood flow to the tissues, it said: "there is a small medial thalamic rounded hyperintense T2 focus measuring 1.0 x 0.8 cm on the right. This demonstrates restricted diffusion and is compatible with a small acute infarct". An infarct is an area of tissue that is dead or dying because of a loss of blood supply. There it is--describing the location and size of the damage in my brain. There it is--evidence of the stroke. I quickly recalled the picture Dr. Dani showed me of my brain scan.

Now I understood what Dr. Dani, Dr. Ritter and Laura were trying to tell me.  I finally got it.  I had a stroke. Yes, I did.  AND YET, I STILL have all of my abilities as if the stroke never took place.  I don’t remember if Laura said the word “miracle” when we were talking earlier or if I thought it myself, but that is what I felt.  That a miracle had just taken place in my life.  My heart was open.  I felt lighter.  A deep sense of calm and peace had taken over me.  My thoughts finally quieted.  I smiled. I was grateful. I slept soundly that night.

I just had to take a selfie!

The next day, I awoke with an appreciation over what happened.  I had a stroke on Saturday night, and yet I was going to be discharged today, Monday. I once again felt strong, powerful, maybe not invincible, but grateful and truly blessed. I couldn't help but smile. I knew I would be going home. I remembered that I had my makeup bag in my purse so I grabbed it, pulled my mirror out, put makeup on, and brushed my hair. All is well! And yes, I took a selfie!  I liked what I saw.  I sent the pic to my immediate family, a few of my closest friends, and Sean.  I was starting to feel like myself again and I wanted them to know.  

My discharge instructions listed my diagnosis as CVA (cerebral infarction); Hypertensive emergency

More to come….

For Part 1 read I had a stroke on Saturday night

For Part 2 read I had a stroke on Saturday night: Part 2

I had a stroke on Saturday night: Part 2

Before I get too deep into this post, I must tell you that I fully recovered from this episode. Multiple doctors and neurologists have confirmed that I have no deficits, no residuals, and I am home resting and doing well. Because this part of my story has only just started, you should know that this is the second of many blogs that I will write about this event in my life. Read I had a Stroke on Saturday night Part 1 for events that led up to this post. Stay tuned! I am still processing what happened and I find that writing about it helps me and my loved ones, so thank you for reading. I feel blessed...

Part 2:

This is not a picture of the machine that was used in the hospital.
It is an image I grabbed off of Google.  I did not take this picture.  

I opened my eyes and saw that i was looking up from inside a CT Scan machine.  Was I supposed to have my eyes opened and looking up there? Probably not, so I decided to keep them closed.   I realized then that I was no longer in the ambulance, so I must now be in the hospital.  I must’ve blacked out.  I don’t remember getting out of the ambulance and going into this room. When the machine stopped spinning above me, I felt the bed move and slide out.  I felt so hot, and I was burning up and so I ripped the covers off of me. Instantly I heard the nurses in the room start yelling and excitedly cheering, “Look! She’s moving her left arm! Yeah!  She’s moving her left arm!”  Why, I thought?  Was I not able to move my left arm?  I was confused.  

They moved me to another bed, opened the door and rolled me across the hallway into a room within the ER unit.  About 8 nurses immediately surrounded my bed.  One asked me questions about my name, DOB, etc.  One was undressing me and putting the hospital gown on me.  Two of them were putting IV’s in, one on each arm.  Oh but wait, I already had an IV on my left arm.  She asked if they put that on in the ambulance.  I said, “I guess so.”  Another one was taking my blood sugar-this time it was 99.  Another one was drawing blood from me.  It felt like they were all talking to me all at once, and it was so overwhelming.  Everything was still kind of blurry and I still had double vision.  Why am I still seeing double????

Crickett, I remember her name, Crickett, was my nurse in the ER.  She was taking my blood pressure, and was the one talking to me and telling me what was going to happen next.  Dr. Lee came in and stood to my left, she introduced herself to me as my doctor.  I remember Dr. Lee because she was the first person I was able to see clearly.  Wow, I was able to focus on her, no double vision.  This made me so happy!  She stood on my left side.  I noticed that if I look left, my vision was good.  The door to the room was on the left.  Oh good, there’s Sean!  He came in and sat down on the chair on the left side of the room.  I don’t remember what we said to each other, but I could see the relief on his face.  I told Crickett that my vision was good when I looked left, but not right.  She shined a flashlight and told me to follow up, then she asked me to focus on her nose as she moved the light to the left, then right.  She mentioned something about a "delay in the right something-something."  I was worried and she knew it.  She told me to relax, that it would come back and not last.  I believed her.  

Someone else came in the room, and asked me if I had insurance.  I said yes.  She asked, who my carrier was.  It took me a few seconds to remember but then the words “Blue Cross Blue Shield” came out of my mouth.  I was glad I remembered.  There was a moment there when I didn’t know what to say….She asked if I had the card and I said the card was in my purse, and Sean added that my purse was in the car.  The nurse said not to worry.    

Another doctor came in.  Dr. Philip.  He said Dr. Lee had gone home and he was taking over.  He told me he was going to be sending out tests (which meant he needed more blood from me) and asked me if I had ever had high blood pressure before.  I told him I was diagnosed two years ago, but that I was able to manage myself off the meds through diet and exercise.  He asked me if I remember what the name of the medication was.  I didn’t think I would know, but then I remembered, Benicar.  I told him I was on Benicar.  But only for a few months and then my doctor allowed me to discontinue use because my numbers improved through my own efforts with improving my diet and getting on a regular exercise regimen.  I was relieved that I remembered the name of the medicine. It felt good to know that I still had good memory and seemed to know what was going on.  Although, in hindsight, I really did not have a clue what was going on at the moment or why this all happened.   

When things calmed a bit, I turned to Sean and told him I was hungry.  At this point it was 7:30pm, and I had hunger pangs as I was thinking that had this not happened, we would’ve just been finishing up our massages and heading to dinner.   He asked Crickett if I could get some food. She said not yet.  Crickett told me when I was admitted that my blood pressure was 202/111.  It was starting to come down, but was still very high.  Later I found out, that they hadn’t ruled out a stroke yet and didn’t want me to eat because they didn’t know if my swallowing abilities were compromised.  So instead she offered me Ginger Ale.  I don’t drink soda.  But yeah ok, that’s better than nothing.  And as I took a sip from the straw, she watched and put her finger on my throat as I swallowed.  She said, “Good!”

A nurse came in to take my blood sugar.  I asked her why?  They took it already a little while ago and it was 99.  She asked me if I was diabetic.  I said no.  I told her the EMT’s gave me a sweet gooey substance while I was in the ambulance to bring my blood sugar up.  It tasted like jelly donut filling from what I can remember. She pricked my finger anyway and took my blood sugar again.  Fine, I thought!  Prick my finger again.  Well, 99 she confirmed.  I said i know, they did that already.

Another nurse came in to draw blood from me.  Sean and I were surprised because they had taken so much just minutes before.  Crickett checked it out to make sure it was warranted. Crickett confirmed, “Yup, these are all sendouts,” which I later learned refers to bloodwork or blood tests.  I don’t know why, but I trusted Crickett right away.

Crickett told me the result from the CT Scan was good.  No blockages that they could detect.  I liked Crickett.  She was thorough.  She spoke slowly and clearly to me.  She looked in my eyes to make sure I was understanding her.  And her eye makeup was on point!  If you know me well, you know I appreciate good eye makeup!  Anyway, she informed me that they were going to next do a CTA scan to examine the blood vessels in my brain.  This would involve injecting me with a dye to make sure there were no blood leakages in or around my brain. Crickett said maybe I could eat after that test.  I was again on my way to the room where that machine was.  As soon as I got there, a nurse came over and injected me with the dye.  I remember feeling warm all over as the dye spread through my vessels.  It felt so warm that it felt like I was peeing on myself.  Good thing Crickett told me this would happen so I knew not to panic and think that I was really wetting myself!  The feeling however, didn’t last too long.  And the CTA was over fairly quickly from what I remember, and I was wheeled back to my room where Sean was waiting.

Hooked up to my arm was the blood pressure monitor which was taking a reading fairly frequently. The balloon on my arm would fill up with air and I remember feeling the pain that it created as it pushed against the IV on my left arm.  It was very unpleasant to say the least.  My blood pressure was now somewhere in the 170s/90s.  Crickett gave me the green light for food.  Good!  I was starving.  But first I had to pee!  Where is the bathroom?  She told me they would bring a commode in.  What?  Why?  I can walk to the bathroom, that’s silly, I thought!  She said, because my blood pressure was still high, they didn’t want me standing or walking around.  I had no choice but to pee in the room with Sean looking right at me. OMG, I thought.  HAHAHA Just like at home!  

One of the nurses heard we were hungry so she brought food for Sean and I.  Wow!  I must say that the nurses were very nice, kind, and warm.  The blood pressure monitor hooked up to my arm was hurting me so I asked Sean to take it off while I ate my sandwich.  The sandwich was the best-tasting bad sandwich I ever had!  We devoured the cold chicken sandwiches and crackers. And it wasn’t enough.  Sean asked me if i would eat some pizza if he ordered a pie.  I of course said, Yes!  So he called for pizza delivery.  They said it would take about 30 mins.  I asked another nurse to put the monitor back up my arm and she told me firmly and sternly never to take if off again because they need my readings.  I felt like a child the way she spoke to me.  “Ok,” I said.  I knew she was right.  

Sean and I talked about calling my parents and my brother Gum.  But I didn’t have my phone on me because it was in my purse, which was in the car.  I didn’t want him to leave me alone so he said he would get it when the pizza arrived downstairs.   I really didn’t know what to tell my parents.  I didn’t want anyone to worry.  We were still waiting to find out what really happened.  

The neurologist, Dr. Dani came in to explain how they would bring my blood pressure down slowly.  Because it had been so high, he said lowering it all the way to normal state quickly wasn’t a good idea especially because I had probably been living with high pressure for quite some time. So this would be a slow process.  For now my bp was around 160s/90s.

The next moments were spent waiting.  Waiting for results of the scans.  Waiting for someone to let us know what was going to happen next.  Waiting for pizza.

Pizza came and went quickly. I had a slice, and it was the best slice I ever had!  Both CT and CTA scans came back negative according to Crickett. She said no blockages, no hemorrhage. I didn’t have stroke.  She said sometimes really high blood pressure can create symptoms that mirror that of a stroke.  I was happy to hear this. I then remembered that my phone was actually in my vest pocket and not in the car. My vest was with me in the room in a plastic bag with all of my belongings so Sean grabbed the bag and retrieved the phone. I called my Dad's cell because I thought he would be calmer and easier to talk to. I didn't want to get upset. And I knew that talking to my Mom would make me very emotional. So I called and spoke to him first, then her. Sean spoke to my Mom too.  We told them what we knew to be true at that time which to me sounded like good news-that I was rushed to the hospital for high blood pressure, that the symptoms mirrored that of a stroke, but that I didn’t have one according to the CT scans. I told them they were going to keep me overnight for observation especially since my blood pressure was still very high.  My mom sounded worried, and asked if I had an MRI done. I said no. She said I needed to get that. Here she goes again, I thought...knowing better than the doctors.

As soon as we got off the phone with my parents, Crickett said we would be heading up to my room soon. She also informed me that I have an MRI for my brain scheduled in the morning, as well as an Echocardiogram to look at my heart.  Hmmm, I thought. My mom was on point about the MRI. She always knows whats best. I know I'll regret writing that sentence as soon as she reads this, because my mother loves being right! Gee I guess that's where I get it from? (Sigh) But it's true. Mothers do always know best...

To be continued...

For Part 1, read I had a Stroke on Saturday night Part 1

I had a stroke on Saturday night.

Before I get too deep into this post, I must tell you that I fully recovered from this episode. Multiple doctors and neurologists have confirmed that I have no deficits, no residuals, and I am home resting and doing well. Because this part of my story has only just started, you should know that this is only the first of many blogs that I will write about this event in my life. So stay tuned! I am still processing what happened and I find that writing about it helps, so thank you for reading. I feel blessed...

Imagine looking at a mirror and watching it shatter into a million pieces.  Then throw water on the fragments and watch the broken images float around and appear swirly...This is what I saw on Saturday, Oct 4th, 2014 at around 5:30pm.  

Sean and I had just arrived at Mohonk Mountain House in New Paltz a few minutes before.  We parked in guest parking lot F and made our way up many stairs to the hotel.  We walked through the lobby and I remember feeling so excited to be there.  I looked outside and saw the sun shining on rose, golden and copper colored leaves surrounding the lake.  I couldn’t wait to walk around outside.  After all, our couple’s massage wasn’t until 6:30pm so we had till 6pm to explore. Sean said he needed to use the restroom.  I did too.  

After using the toilet, I was washing my hands when I looked up at the mirror to check myself out.  And that’s when it started.  I knew something was wrong.  Could it be my contact lenses? I blinked a few times, but no change.  I felt like I was going to faint.  I made my way to the door and stumbled out to the hallway where Sean was thankfully standing.  I told him something is wrong with my eyes. I knew he was standing on my right side, but when I looked at him, his face was on my left.  It was like staring at broken mirror images that were displaced, or sharp-edged puzzle pieces tossed about on top of each other.  What is going on with my eyes?? I asked him repeatedly if I was cross-eyed.  He looked and reassured me that they weren't. What is going on?

Within seconds, I could no longer stand on my own.  He found a chair in the next room and sat me down.  I could no longer hold my head up.  He thought I needed air.  He held me up and walked me outside by the lake and sat me down on a chair.  He asked me to stay so he could get help. When he stepped back to walk away, I slid down my chair.  He then moved the chair next to the railing and placed my left hand on the railing so that I could use it to hold me up.  He stepped away, and my hand started to slide off.  He told me he thought we should call 911.  I tried to talk him out of it.  I was embarrassed and didn’t want to create anymore commotion.  Then he asked me, “baby do you know that you’re drooling?”  With my right hand, I touched my face and felt the drool coming down the left side of my mouth.  I knew then, I was not myself.  I told him, “ok, call 911.”  

He got the attention of a woman working in the hotel and asked her to get some help.  She tried to help me herself, but Sean demanded she get a doctor right away. A doctor, also a hotel guest, finally came.  The paramedics from the hotel also came.  I wish I had their names.  The doctor started performing what I would later know as neurological tests.  He had me raise both arms above my head, squeeze his hands, touch my nose using my right, then left pointer fingers, smile, etc.  Sean later told me that during this time, my left side was weak. Even when I thought I was raising both arms up, I was only raising my right.  When I would smile, it would be crooked.  I had some motion on my left, but it was delayed, weak, and later on non-existent.  I kept my eyes closed to keep the crazy images at bay.  I was still seeing double. It felt better to just close them and listen.  They were asking lots of questions. I could hear myself slurring my words as I answered them.  They were holding my head up because I couldn’t do it myself.   

I remembered that the Spa at Mohonk had a policy of charging their guests 100% for no shows. I didn't want to be charged so I mentioned this and the MOD of the hotel said not to worry, and that he would take care of it. I was secretly hoping we would still make it in time for the massage. I really needed it. I had been under a lot of stress leading up to this and was really looking forward to relaxing. Why now, I thought?

The ambulance finally came.  I remember hearing someone say that we should go to Vassar because they have a stroke unit.  Was I having a stroke?  Was this really happening?  The driver asked one of the EMT’s if she should expedite.  He said, “do what you have to do.  Time is of the essence.” She said she would turn it on when we got to 299, which days later I confirmed was Main Street in New Paltz. I heard him mutter under his breath, "Geez, I have to tell her how to drive this thing too?" I was amused by this comment. Even in that state, I understood this meant turning the siren on.  I had no idea where we were going.  Sean was following behind the ambulance because they told him he couldn’t ride inside with me.  

While in the ambulance, they put the IV in my arm, poked my finger to check my blood sugar which was really low at 67.  I told them i had breakfast around 11am and a banana around 4pm. They asked me repeatedly if I had been drinking or was on some sort of recreational drugs.  I said no.  They asked again, and I said no again.  I was getting annoyed to be honest.  My head felt like it was spinning and the area around my right eye was hurting.  I heard the siren come on.  I asked if that siren was coming from us.  They confirmed.  The right side of my neck was hurting because my head was tilted left the entire time. I couldn't hold my head up. One of the EMTs had to keep my head in his hand to keep my head up. I felt like I was drunk in the worse possible way, in a way I had never ever felt before. I had no control of my left side.

To be continued....