Today is the 2,594th day since I last scribbled a message and posted it here.
Not surprisingly, much has happened in the intervening seven years, one month, and seven days. Back on September 14, 2010, I was delighted to be writing about my friend
Patti Digh's little book of big wisdom. It had been nearly two years since I finally met Patti in person at a retreat she held in Asheville. The retreat was only a month before my wife and I moved from Denver to Raleigh.
It feels so long ago, those days in Denver. My employment situation was, well, not, so much of my time in those last Denver days as well as the first couple of years in Raleigh centered around the issue of how to pay for stuff. I was fortunate to have been given a reasonable severance when laid off after a 20-year career at a company which went from tiny to Standard and Poor's 500 in my days with them. But they decided that IT was something they could outsource, so they did.
My wife broke her hip within the first month of our arrival in Raleigh. Her recovery was slow but steady, and once she was again able to be mobile on her own, I renewed my job search more seriously.
Finally, in late 2012, I stumbled into an opportunity which has blossomed into gainful employment for well over four years now. So, there's that when I consider the big changes.
In 2015, Julia had both knees replaced, one in March, and one in October. In fact, the one in October was done on the 5th anniversary of our departure from Denver.
That hip I mentioned? After years of her rheumatoid arthritis working on that joint, the pain was no longer tolerable. On July 25th, I went with her as she signed into the hospital for her third joint replacement. Same surgeon, seemingly same great result.
As July 26th dawned, though, it was quickly apparent that something was not quite right. After a full day of wondering, a 10 pm MRI finally confirmed the stroke we knew, by then, had caused Julia to lose most function on her left side.
Four weeks at WakeMed Rehab Hospital followed by nearly four weeks at the Rex Hospital rehab facility concluded with Julia coming home on September 23rd. As of today, she has been home for four weeks. Monday will be the 90th day since her hip-replacement surgery.
In a way, it was a blessing that it took an entire day to get confirmation of what we instinctively knew: this was not going to be a quick recovery. It gave us a small window of time to come to grips with the situation. The hip surgery was to be two days in the hospital, a few weeks of rehab, and all good by the beginning of September.
The unmet expectation, that shock well after successful surgery that we were not going home soon, causes us to struggle at times. Julia should be virtually pain-free, living a better life than prior to her hip replacement. Instead, we are approaching the beginning of the fourth month of a recovery which may last years.
Grieving is an important part of the healing which we are working to facilitate. Noting the signs of progress is just as important.
Julia is now able to move around the house, sometimes with a walker, sometimes with a cane. She can take care of herself in the middle of the night, thanks to the portable commode in her bedroom. We will soon complete modifications in her bathroom which will make it easier for her.
Yet, there are so many things which are a little off. Her stroke took place in the corpus callosum, the area of the brain which connects left and right hemispheres. Initially, her left leg was paralyzed. Her left hand continues to be churlish and sometimes uncooperative. Ask Dr Google about Alien Hand Syndrome. I am not kidding.
For me, it is hard to see Julia struggle with physical challenges even as she works to get her executive brain function all the way back to 100%. She hates being dependent, she wants her life back, and she grieves that so much seems lost. That's one side of the emotional spectrum.
We both recognize and regularly speak about our gratitude that her recovery has been steady and began almost immediately. Her paralyzed left leg began to respond only days after her stroke. Compared to some of the people we saw in the rehab facilities, we know Julia is lucky. A great many have tougher journeys than the one we are on. So, grieving and gratefulness...we know both.
Stroke recovery is achingly slow. At the same time, it gives us hope to know that continued improvement is possible for several years. In six months, Julia's life--both of our lives--will be quite different from today. We can only imagine what that means. We both know that it is the energy and focus we bring to the recovery process today which will directly influence the life we share next Spring.
That's where we are, then: part of the way down a long road with no indication of its length or how fast we are moving. One step, then another, and another. One day, then the next. A month from now, we will be able to look back and describe the progress. A year from now, we will likely laugh about the exploits of Lefty (the minor Mob character that we envision is in control of Julia's left hand).
For today, though, our goals and expectations are simple and concrete. We will enjoy the lovely Fall weather, do some PT and maybe a little dexterity training, and watch some trash TV. We know that today is all we can control, so we will focus right here, right now.
I started this piece with a mention of Patti Digh's wonderful book, Four Word Self Help. For decades, my four words have remained the same: Start where you are.
"While it might seem otherwise in the aftermath of some human event we lived through recently and are still processing in our emotional bodies, the single-most critical few seconds we can invest are those needed to jerk ourselves out of our memories and into full presence.
Start. Where. You. Are. NOW."
