Today is the 11th anniversary of my stroke. I found
a blog (“Stroke!’) that I wrote three weeks after the incident in 2009:
“I was writing one morning and all of a sudden, I
couldn't read anymore. I’m wiped out for working 12 hours days, I thought, so I
decided to take a quick nap. One hour later I woke up and The View was on TV. Did
an argument between Barbara and Whoopi give me a stroke while I was asleep and
if so, can I sue them now?
I ran upstairs and my wife (my ex now) looked at me like
a confused dog, with her head slightly tilted like WTF. She showed me a picture
of Mickey Mouse that was on her desk for some reason and asked me who is this?
That’s Freddy, our terrier I replied. At
that point, it was time to get to SF General Hospital. Five days later, I was
out, but my brain was still scrambled.
My friends would ask me what happened and I couldn’t
even say the word stroke. It was either, streak, steak, strike, or stoke, and
then finally my brain would find it, like a broken Rolodex. I'm happy because the stroke was relatively minor. My
body is okay. But now I am having difficulty talking and writing. I am going to
have to go on disability for a few months. The prognosis looks very good--the
doctors are saying that I should be back close to 100% after a few months.
I can talk clearly, but finding the correct words can be
tough at times, especially the multi-syllabic ones. (like spontaneous,
collaboration, appreciate--these are hard words for me to say these days.)
Soon, I will be going to speech therapy.”
I read these words now and I realize that I was working really hard
not to let anyone know that I was absolutely terrified. One of my biggest fears
was that I wouldn’t be able to be a professional writer again. I worked so hard
to get there, and now it’s all gone. At first, I couldn’t write a sentence
without some difficulty and things weren’t progressing. One of my friends
suggested that I become a full-time dog walker. Another one said they
hire slow adults at the Apple Store and Chevy’s. Am I going to end up as a
greeter at Target? Please God, no!
One night in the hospital, I started thinking, is this how
it’s going to end? I surely created a mess to clean up, including obesity, high blood
pressure, congestive heart failure, sleep apnea, and diabetes at 50 years old. In
a screenplay, they call this the inciting moment, where the main character
succeeds or folds. I knew I didn’t want to fold anymore.
So, I committed to improving my life through a better diet,
sobriety, and exercise and it worked. I went back to writing 15 months after the
stroke and lost more than 100 lbs. I have to give credit to my ex-wife for helping
me through this time. She always said that she enjoys fixing people and I
surely needed some fixing. (Unfortunately, once the repairs were complete, Project
Ed was over.)
The last 11 years have been the best years of my life. There
have been some tough moments along the way (divorce and the passing of my
father primarily), but the great things have outshined everything else. My art
has exploded and the joy I have brought to people through my Pandemic Pet
Project has been so exciting and fulfilling. I’ve tried to be a better listener
and to help my friends, although I still maintain the three basic rules of friendship
and they’ve worked for me (Don't ask me for money, I don't want to help you move and get your own
ride to the airport!)
Who knows what will happen next? Some people counted me out
11 years ago, but I’m still standing. I still need some repairs, no doubt. But,
if someone tells me to enjoy the journey and embrace the moment, I am going to
scream!
