On March 10th, 2024, at the age of 44, I had a stroke.
An ischemic stroke ,which means a clog in what was a small vein in my cerebellum, deep inside of my head, to be specific.
It was a normal spring Saturday. I worked at my weekend restaurant job earlier that morning, made dinner, watched some T.V. with the fam and went to bed, expecting to go to church the next morning. The next thing I knew, I woke up in a hospital bed (two months later) with zero recollection of what happened during the previous couple of months, or how much time had elapsed.
There was a lot that happened in the time in between, but I’ll let Melissa fill all that in.
What I remember when I woke up is asking Melissa where I was, what happened and why the heck I was in the hospital. Apparently, I had asked Melissa this same series of questions a couple of different times, with me reacting a couple of different ways – ranging from tears of grief and surprise to using expletives to angrily and colorfully describe my situation.
I was confused, scared and upset that I was in the hospital and those feelings only multiplied, once I fully grasped what I was in the hospital for.
I lived what I thought was a reasonably healthy lifestyle. I ate mostly carnivore, worked out 4 to 5 times a week… I didn’t eat dairy or gluten and I avoided junk food, seed oils and prescription medication. The last thing that I thought was going to happen to me was a stroke.
I did have a couple vices however.
I drank vodka almost every night “to help me sleep” and I took some Zyn nicotine pouches during the day to “keep me awake and help me concentrate” during work. The reason that those are in apostrophes is that I don’t believe those were the real reasons that I partook in those. Sure, they helped with my sleep and concentration (maybe), but I realize now that I wasn’t fully trusting in God to help me with those things. I didn’t even ask Him, I just assumed that these were a part of living this “rat race” life. I avoided being a “Big Pharma” consumer by avoiding prescription meds and doctors, but I was a willing customer to “Big Alcohol” and “Big Tobacco”.
In other words, I was a hypocrite.
I am happy to say that I have not touched either of those substances since my stroke, praise God, though I will admit that I do get a craving for one or the other every once in a blue moon. But, for now, I’m sleeping like a baby every night without the need for a sleep aid, and my attentiveness and concentration have never been better…ironically enough. It also helps that I’m not working right now, either.
The doctors haven’t given me a reason as to why my stroke happened, but I don’t want to risk another stroke -or any other health issues- by continuing these stupid habits. I do know that high cholesterol and high blood pressure can cause strokes (something I didn’t find out runs in my family until I was in the hospital). My family also has a history of strokes (woulda been nice to know earlier, mom and dad).
I don’t know if any if you know anyone that has had a stroke in the past, but most stroke victims suffer from paralysis that affects either the left or right side of their body (depending on what side of the brain the stroke occurred), along with slurred speech, some cognitive impairments, and trouble concentrating, etc.
Thankfully, that (mostly) was not the case with me, because of where in my brain my stroke occurred.
My stroke occurred in my visual cortex and because of this, I suffered some visual issues. The first thing I noticed when I woke up, was that my eyesight was severely compromised. I had trouble with both my long and short distance vision, the peripheral vision in my left eye was pretty much gone, and I was unable to focus on more than one thing at a time. I could recognize people by the outline/ shape of their bodies and sound of their voice, but I couldn’t see the details of their face.
I couldn’t really see anything clearly, I couldn’t read any books, and the T.V. was really blurry.
It was frustrating, to say the least.
Thankfully, these symptoms have gotten better over time, with the more serious issues lasting a couple of weeks longer, and some of them lingering to this day. I went to a neuro-ophthalmologist and he prescribed me some special glasses, which definitely helped out while my vision continued to improve. My vision eventually got good enough to where I didn’t need to wear them anymore. I do still have trouble reading books with small print and I usually have to find the left side of the page with my finger since my periphery is gone.
I lost quite a bit of weight while I was in the hospital (probably about 25 to 30 pounds). That may not seem like much, but I only weighed about 150 pounds at the time, so it was a lot of weight. Looking back at pictures of myself during that time, I looked like a homeless heroin addict. My muscles atrophied significantly and my strength and stamina were really low.
I didn’t notice until I tried to get up out of my hospital bed, that my balance was was severely compromised as well. Because my eyesight was wonky, it threw my balance off, and since my balance was off, it hindered my ability to walk and it was a chore just to sit up in my bed.
At that point, my independence was pretty much non-existent.
I had to rely on others – Melissa, my kids, nurses and doctors to get up, walk around or even go to the bathroom. For someone who prided themselves on their mobility and independence, having my 12 year old daughter help walk me around the hospital floor was a hard pill to swallow.
Throughout this whole time Melissa has been an absolute rockstar. She has been kind, patient, loving and took care of me as only a mother could. I have never heard her complain that she was tired, never any indication that she was getting impatient with me and zero signs of mental or physical fatigue. She stayed by my bedside the whole time, took care of me and gave me all the supplements and vitamins seemingly ever made so that I can recover quicker.
Most importantly, she prayed for me.
She also went on social media to share our story to get others to pray as well. I know that I wouldn’t be writing this right now, without her and what seems like half the world praying. I know that she had her dark days, her lonely nights when she wasn’t sure if and when I would come home, or who I would be when I did, and what kind of future we would have. But she kept on taking care of me and praying that the Lord would heal me.
At the beginning, Melissa joined a couple of stroke survivor forums online to learn a little bit more about what we were in for, in the near and long term. She unfollowed those sites shortly thereafter because a lot of the stories were depressing and terrifying, and she didn’t believe that was going to be our story.
I do remember being in a hospital bed in the ICU, with an IV in my arm and fresh scars on my head and face from the craniotomy I had, a couple of weeks earlier (Melissa will fill you in on that). Having the IV in was especially terrifying because I hate needles and having things sticking out of my body. Like I said, I have no memory of anything from the night of my stroke to my present time in the hospital.
That is both a blessing and a bummer.
A blessing because a lot of gnarly things happened to me during those couple of months that I can’t remember – including surgery, having to wear a diaper, many pokes with needles (like IV’s) and seeing my family really distraught over my condition.
It was a bummer because I did have a lot of family come and visit me; my brother from Jersey that came out with his family, my parents, also from Jersey, my other brother who lives here; Melissa’s family – her 3 siblings and her mother from Northern California and her brother that lives in Texas, my cousins from down in Houston area (whom I haven’t seen in 20 years) and my sister-in-laws’ dad, who came all the way down from Washington state. I unfortunately can’t remember any of that either.
The love I must have felt then and the love I feel now from them is immeasurable. I have no doubt that the Lord used all that family visiting me to help with my recovery – even if I have no memory of it.
Even though the Lord knew that I wouldn’t remember any of my family being there and the comfort that they would bring, He knew that I needed to see them and that I needed to know that I was loved and that people cared for me.
One thing I did know, was that God always knew what I needed without me even having to ask.
In theory, I’ve been a Christian for most of my life. I went to Bible College, was a church elder, etc. – I thought I knew quite a bit about my Christian faith.
Boy, was I wrong.
I have never experienced anything that takes the kind of real-world faith and trust that something like this takes. I feel like my faith and relationship with the Lord have grown more in the past 6-7 months than it has in all my years as a Christian.
Events like this can really put you at crossroads. You can either walk away from the Lord, bitter and confused at Him for what happened to you, or you can choose to run into His arms, knowing that the Lord has a purpose for your suffering and a plan for your life.
You just need to be patient in asking Him what His plan is for your life.
I still don’t know exactly why all this happened or what His plan or purpose is for all of this. But, I do know that getting closer to Him was definitely one of those reasons.
