I've picked up a new companion on my journey back to health.
Fear.
Not a debilitating, paralyzing kind of fear. Just a nagging irritant that colors everything I do. The good news on my stroke was that there was no obvious physical frailty that led to it. The bad news in that is that I have no idea what "caused" it.
And a tiny little voice from the darkest regions of my mind whispers "Or what might make it happen again".
There's nothing rational in this but then that's the nature of fear, isn't it?
Fear of the undiscovered deficit. Every time I try something new the question lingers - is this what I can't do? So far, so good. And the fear is forced back a little bit each time.
Fear of the simple things. Coughs, sneezes, bending over too far, standing up too quickly, laughing, the list is endless. So far, so good. And the fear is forced back a little more.
Fear of what people might think. The downside of coming through the stroke as well as I have is that I'm not obviously "recovering". I look a little tired but that's it. Inside I know I'm still only about 70-75%. The headaches continue. I know I'm still healing. It might be easier to deal with other folks expectations if I just didn't look quite so damn healthy, lol. And laughter helps push the fear back a little further.
Fear that a full recovery might not mean a "full recovery". Which means what? That I won't be able to return to the activities I enjoyed before at the level I could do them before. My relative youth and good health before the stroke are big plusses for me in this.
In the end I can let the fears control me or I can control them. There is an old American Indian tale about the two wolves that battle inside us all. One is fear and envy and anger. The other is joy, peace, love and hope. The one that wins is the one that gets fed.
I chose not to feed my fears.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Friday, November 5, 2010
Stroke stories - At Home
To be honest I wasn't going to do one on being home.
Mostly because being at home is BORING!
But it part of the process. Trying to find some kind of normal again. Simply trying to find some kind of comfortable position. Sitting, standing and lying down are all uncomfortable for one reason or another.
I think I wanted to avoid it because it's also uncomfortable mentally. I have to go back to where "it" happened. There was a certain fear and trepidation when I first went back into my office at home and sat down in front of the computer. There, in that chair, facing that monitor. And nothing happened. It's a desk in a room with a computer.
In those moments I think a little more of me healed.
Home heals me in other ways. I can catch up with the world a little bit. I came home to a stack of get well cards from family and friends. It was a wonderful gift. I get great support from the comments on Facebook and here on the blog as well. I'm trying not to overdo anything but I've had a couple visitors and talked to a couple folks on the phone. And a little more of me is healed.
I can begin to do things for myself slowly. Make a meal, get up and down to get things for myself. Each day a little more. Today's victory was vacuuming the carpets on the first floor. Another step towards normal, another step towards healing.
It's also a time of humility. Being taken care of at the hospital is one thing. To realize that you can't do certain things yet and will need help at home is different, at least for me. My lady wife has suffered through a great many illnesses over the last almost 30 years. It was my role to care for her in my own fumbling way. I was the healthy one. Now I had to ask her to come and dry my feet after a shower. To help me dry my hair, to dress myself in part because I couldn't lean down far enough to get my pants started. Her great love of me has shown through in the sacrifices she's made over the last 10 days. My ego has had to humble itself to accept those acts of love. They are freely offered gifts. The impact of them has been greater than I expected. I have been blessed with a true partner and soul mate.
So the pills every four hours routine continues. The body feels a little stronger every day. I've been given leave to "take as much time as I need to heal" from my job but part of me is itching to get back at it. The compromise is that I'll work just a couple hours a day, from home, for a week then look at going back full time. It's the compromise position between my feeling that I'm slacking and others feeling that I'm in too big a rush. If it wears me out too quickly I swear here publicly that I will slow down again.
I promise.
Every day I heal a little more.
Mostly because being at home is BORING!
But it part of the process. Trying to find some kind of normal again. Simply trying to find some kind of comfortable position. Sitting, standing and lying down are all uncomfortable for one reason or another.
I think I wanted to avoid it because it's also uncomfortable mentally. I have to go back to where "it" happened. There was a certain fear and trepidation when I first went back into my office at home and sat down in front of the computer. There, in that chair, facing that monitor. And nothing happened. It's a desk in a room with a computer.
In those moments I think a little more of me healed.
Home heals me in other ways. I can catch up with the world a little bit. I came home to a stack of get well cards from family and friends. It was a wonderful gift. I get great support from the comments on Facebook and here on the blog as well. I'm trying not to overdo anything but I've had a couple visitors and talked to a couple folks on the phone. And a little more of me is healed.
I can begin to do things for myself slowly. Make a meal, get up and down to get things for myself. Each day a little more. Today's victory was vacuuming the carpets on the first floor. Another step towards normal, another step towards healing.
It's also a time of humility. Being taken care of at the hospital is one thing. To realize that you can't do certain things yet and will need help at home is different, at least for me. My lady wife has suffered through a great many illnesses over the last almost 30 years. It was my role to care for her in my own fumbling way. I was the healthy one. Now I had to ask her to come and dry my feet after a shower. To help me dry my hair, to dress myself in part because I couldn't lean down far enough to get my pants started. Her great love of me has shown through in the sacrifices she's made over the last 10 days. My ego has had to humble itself to accept those acts of love. They are freely offered gifts. The impact of them has been greater than I expected. I have been blessed with a true partner and soul mate.
So the pills every four hours routine continues. The body feels a little stronger every day. I've been given leave to "take as much time as I need to heal" from my job but part of me is itching to get back at it. The compromise is that I'll work just a couple hours a day, from home, for a week then look at going back full time. It's the compromise position between my feeling that I'm slacking and others feeling that I'm in too big a rush. If it wears me out too quickly I swear here publicly that I will slow down again.
I promise.
Every day I heal a little more.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Stroke stories - in the Hospital
When they saw the bleed in my brain at Westfield they decided to send me to St. Vincent's in Erie which is the closest stroke center. Normally they would put me on a chopper and life flight me. Because of the tornado watch everything was grounded. So I got my first ever ride in the back of ambulance (two!) but missed out on my first helicopter flight. Ah well, I wouldn't have been able to enjoy it anyway.
Donna and Rachel tell me that the ambulance told them NOT to try and follow them. It then promptly took off like a bat out of hell. That's fine with me.
Entry to the Intensive Care Unit at St. Vincent's is a bit of blur. I remember lots of good nurses and folks helping to get as comfortable as they could. It was also the beginning of what became a series of surprises for them.
I was a stroke patient so they were going to put in a catheter.
Oh no they weren't.
Those who know me well will probably not be surprised that even in the middle of a stroke I was not only willing to argue with the staff but that I could convince them to give me a chance to do it my way. My ongoing success with the urinal bottle was something of head shaker for them for the rest of my stay. Apparently most guys have trouble with this process. If anyone's interested I can send any guy facing hospitalization with simple clear instructions. LOL.
The other surprise was my lack of "deficits", all those problems we normally associate with stroke. No weakness, no blackouts, no verbal problems, no memory loss. There's no real explanation for it. Was it a miracle? I can't argue with that. The mortality rate for this kind of stroke is actually pretty high so just the fact that I'm sitting typing this out is a miracle. Divine intervention or "winning the lottery"? Don't know. I'm thankful for whatever grace has come my way.
There was, of course, the constant routine of pills and blood draws including all night long. It's exhausting.
Beyond that my biggest problem was boredom. I felt pretty good (drugs help). In fact I was thinking about going right back to work the following Monday. Today I know how foolish that really was. If I'm lucky I'll be doing some light office work NEXT week. One day at a time.
The best news was from the CT angiogram where they run a catheter up into my head and release dye to take a look at the various blood vessels looking for any other problems. The test takes about 30-45 minutes but you have to lay flat afterwards for 6 hours. And you can't move your right leg much at all. Fun. The good news was that the initial test was all good. Even better was that since the test is basically a complete survey of the blood vessels. I now know that I have no abnormalities, no obvious potential future problems hiding up there. And that there's no greater likelihood that I would have another event like this than there was that I had this one. Statistically insignificant. I can live with that.
What comes next? I'll share my thoughts soon.
Donna and Rachel tell me that the ambulance told them NOT to try and follow them. It then promptly took off like a bat out of hell. That's fine with me.
Entry to the Intensive Care Unit at St. Vincent's is a bit of blur. I remember lots of good nurses and folks helping to get as comfortable as they could. It was also the beginning of what became a series of surprises for them.
I was a stroke patient so they were going to put in a catheter.
Oh no they weren't.
Those who know me well will probably not be surprised that even in the middle of a stroke I was not only willing to argue with the staff but that I could convince them to give me a chance to do it my way. My ongoing success with the urinal bottle was something of head shaker for them for the rest of my stay. Apparently most guys have trouble with this process. If anyone's interested I can send any guy facing hospitalization with simple clear instructions. LOL.
The other surprise was my lack of "deficits", all those problems we normally associate with stroke. No weakness, no blackouts, no verbal problems, no memory loss. There's no real explanation for it. Was it a miracle? I can't argue with that. The mortality rate for this kind of stroke is actually pretty high so just the fact that I'm sitting typing this out is a miracle. Divine intervention or "winning the lottery"? Don't know. I'm thankful for whatever grace has come my way.
There was, of course, the constant routine of pills and blood draws including all night long. It's exhausting.
Beyond that my biggest problem was boredom. I felt pretty good (drugs help). In fact I was thinking about going right back to work the following Monday. Today I know how foolish that really was. If I'm lucky I'll be doing some light office work NEXT week. One day at a time.
The best news was from the CT angiogram where they run a catheter up into my head and release dye to take a look at the various blood vessels looking for any other problems. The test takes about 30-45 minutes but you have to lay flat afterwards for 6 hours. And you can't move your right leg much at all. Fun. The good news was that the initial test was all good. Even better was that since the test is basically a complete survey of the blood vessels. I now know that I have no abnormalities, no obvious potential future problems hiding up there. And that there's no greater likelihood that I would have another event like this than there was that I had this one. Statistically insignificant. I can live with that.
What comes next? I'll share my thoughts soon.
Monday, November 1, 2010
So That's What A Stroke Feels Like
That's been one of my favorite lines over the last couple years. When things would get a little crazy I'd just put my hand to my forehead and say “So this is what a stroke feels like”. Always gets a laugh.
I won't be saying that ever again.
On Tuesday October 26 around 5:40 PM I was sitting at my computer in my home office.
Everything was perfectly normal.
Everything was perfectly normal.
Then someone threw a switch. And it felt like the monster from “Alien” was trying to come out of the middle of my skull. I later found out that a small vein near the center of my brain broke open and blood pumped into my my brain. It was the worst pain I've ever experienced.
At that moment we were actually under a tornado watch and I thought it might be related to a sudden drop in air pressure near the storm. I went down stairs to look around and grab a couple aspirin. Then I lay down. Within minutes it became apparent that something was WRONG. The pain actually got worse. Then the nausea. I grabbed my phones and ran to the bathroom. I called 911, then called my wife and waited slumped over the toilet. That's where they found me, curled up in a ball on the floor.
(Yes, I know I'm pretty deep into TMI territory here. Bear with me)
By the time the ambulance arrived (thank you Mayville Fire Rescue, you are the best!). They got my information, got me on the gurney, left a note for my family and got me rolling to the hospital in Westfield.
By this time I'm terrified in addition to being in great pain. Hell, terrified doesn't even come close. I know a stroke has to be high on the list of answers to the question “What the hell is going on?”. A few years ago my mother died of a stroke. And I don't want to die. And it hurts so much. Just beyond terror is insanity and I got closer than I care to ever be again.
We arrive at the hospital. The lights had been giving me trouble in the ambulance so we had a towel draped across my eyes. They wheeled me in and I heard the ambulance crew tell the ED staff the basics of the case. The next words I remember were some of the best I'd hear that day.
“Jay, it's Dena”
Dena is a long time friend who just happened to be on duty that night. She took my hand and suddenly I had a small stable place to hang on to in the midst of the nightmare. It's what I needed.
(A moment to thank all the folks who helped during this. I was too far gone to remember much of the ambulance crew but I think it was Joyce and Josh riding in back with me. Then Cathy and Dena and Michael Woltz the PA, when I got to St. Vincent's the list of nurses became incredibly long. I know I've forgotten some, especially when I first arrived, but special blessings on Jackie, the two Kims, Patty, Diane, Shauna and Kelly who were with through my time in Intensive Care. Also Drs. Romero (Neuro) and Zeto(internist I think) who were also great)
Things changed once I got to the hospital. And that was good. I still have more to this story I want to share but that comes later.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
View From the Phlipside - Juan Williams and NPR
My name is Jay Phillippi and I've spent my life in and around the media. TV, Radio, the Movies and more. I love them and I hate them and I always have an opinion. Call this the View From the Phlipside.
There’s nothing quite as fascinating as when smart people do stupid things. If you heard about the firing of news analyst Juan Williams by National Public Radio you got plenty of that. Let’s take a look at what happened here.
First let’s clear away the nonsense. This is NOT
a First Amendment issue. This is and was an employment issue. I’m so tired of people screaming First Amendment for no good reason. It’s not. Move on. Williams is free to express ill conceived opinions on his own time any time he wants.
Second let’s be clear about the roles being discussed here. The news industry basically breaks down into three primary categories. Reporter, Analyst and Commentator. A reporter’s job is to gather the facts and present them in an understandable form. An analyst puts those facts into context and helps us understand what they mean. A commentator is someone who gives an opinion. Since I’m a commentator I’ll give my opinion. The news industry should be mostly reporters with a leavening of analysts with just a few commentators. That ratio is rapidly sliding in the opposite direction sadly.
It’s also where Williams ran into trouble. He was an analyst for NPR and a commentator for Fox News. Both he and NPR should have known that this arrangement was going to be a problem. Williams also should have known that comments like the ones made on Fox were going to create a furor. Maybe he did know. He also should have known that NPR would have to react. Based on just this episode NPR’s decision to fire him may seem extreme. I know that they have reported that this was simply the latest in a string of problems they’d had. In the end I think NPR is the only one who takes a hit in all this. Williams was signed to be a token liberal on Fox News virtually instantly. Fox News gets lots of free publicity for their new commentator. And NPR gets showboating politicians taking aim at their budget.
Oh there is one other group that loses in this mess. That would be you and me and all the rest of our nation being underserved by reporters because everyone wants to a commentator. But then that’s just my opinion.
Call that the View From the Phlipside.
"The View From the Phlipside" airs on WRFA-LP Jamestown NY. You can listen to WRFA online HERE
Copyright - Jay Phillippi 2010
There’s nothing quite as fascinating as when smart people do stupid things. If you heard about the firing of news analyst Juan Williams by National Public Radio you got plenty of that. Let’s take a look at what happened here.
First let’s clear away the nonsense. This is NOT
a First Amendment issue. This is and was an employment issue. I’m so tired of people screaming First Amendment for no good reason. It’s not. Move on. Williams is free to express ill conceived opinions on his own time any time he wants.Second let’s be clear about the roles being discussed here. The news industry basically breaks down into three primary categories. Reporter, Analyst and Commentator. A reporter’s job is to gather the facts and present them in an understandable form. An analyst puts those facts into context and helps us understand what they mean. A commentator is someone who gives an opinion. Since I’m a commentator I’ll give my opinion. The news industry should be mostly reporters with a leavening of analysts with just a few commentators. That ratio is rapidly sliding in the opposite direction sadly.
It’s also where Williams ran into trouble. He was an analyst for NPR and a commentator for Fox News. Both he and NPR should have known that this arrangement was going to be a problem. Williams also should have known that comments like the ones made on Fox were going to create a furor. Maybe he did know. He also should have known that NPR would have to react. Based on just this episode NPR’s decision to fire him may seem extreme. I know that they have reported that this was simply the latest in a string of problems they’d had. In the end I think NPR is the only one who takes a hit in all this. Williams was signed to be a token liberal on Fox News virtually instantly. Fox News gets lots of free publicity for their new commentator. And NPR gets showboating politicians taking aim at their budget.
Oh there is one other group that loses in this mess. That would be you and me and all the rest of our nation being underserved by reporters because everyone wants to a commentator. But then that’s just my opinion.
Call that the View From the Phlipside.
"The View From the Phlipside" airs on WRFA-LP Jamestown NY. You can listen to WRFA online HERE
Copyright - Jay Phillippi 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
View From the Phlipside - Violent Entertainment
My name is Jay Phillippi and I've spent my life in and around the media. TV, Radio, the Movies and more. I love them and I hate them and I always have an opinion. Call this the View From the Phlipside.
Last week saw a great furor break over the National Football League. Since this isn’t a sports commentary I’ll skip over the question of whether the hits were legal and if the punishments fit the crimes. It did lead me to think about something else that has always nagged at me. The question of violence as entertainment.
Any even quick survey of the history of humanity shows that we have ALWAYS been entertained by some form of real or formalized violence. To pretend that somehow it isn’t there in among the multitudinous other cultural skeletons is just fooling ourselves. And real violence has had a place in our entertainment choices into the relatively recent past. Wrestling was a major form of entertainment from the earliest days of the Republic and the level of physical mayhem that was considered acceptable is pretty appalling by modern standards. Physically disfiguring your opponent was considered reasonable up to the 1800’s. It was in the last century that we began to see some regulation to make the violence more formalized. Don’t forget that in the early 20th Century football was so violent that 18 players died playing it that year. And there were a LOT fewer people playing the sport back then.
Football controlled the violence. So did boxing and wrestling. Baseball was never a terribly violent game but over the years greater protections came even to that gentle sport. In recent years I begin to wonder though if that trend is now headed the other way.
Professional wrestling offers the illusion of greater violence. Boxing is being supplanted by the much more violent personal combat of Mixed Martial Arts. Now football is arguing about the need to make devastating potentially disabling or fatal hits for the purity of the sport. Even our most formalized entertainments, video games, have grown ever more violent in concept over the last decade.
The underlying concern is that we once again getting enjoyment from ever increasing levels of violence committed on the bodies of other people. At some point there may be no discernible difference between our entertainments and the gladiatorial confrontations of ancient Rome. It’s an historic path that I think we need to carefully consider before we travel too much farther down it. The lack of respect for life in our entertainments has a nasty way of looping back on society itself.
Call that the View From the Phlipside.
"The View From the Phlipside" airs on WRFA-LP Jamestown NY. You can listen to WRFA online HERE
Copyright - Jay Phillippi 2010
Last week saw a great furor break over the National Football League. Since this isn’t a sports commentary I’ll skip over the question of whether the hits were legal and if the punishments fit the crimes. It did lead me to think about something else that has always nagged at me. The question of violence as entertainment.
Any even quick survey of the history of humanity shows that we have ALWAYS been entertained by some form of real or formalized violence. To pretend that somehow it isn’t there in among the multitudinous other cultural skeletons is just fooling ourselves. And real violence has had a place in our entertainment choices into the relatively recent past. Wrestling was a major form of entertainment from the earliest days of the Republic and the level of physical mayhem that was considered acceptable is pretty appalling by modern standards. Physically disfiguring your opponent was considered reasonable up to the 1800’s. It was in the last century that we began to see some regulation to make the violence more formalized. Don’t forget that in the early 20th Century football was so violent that 18 players died playing it that year. And there were a LOT fewer people playing the sport back then.Football controlled the violence. So did boxing and wrestling. Baseball was never a terribly violent game but over the years greater protections came even to that gentle sport. In recent years I begin to wonder though if that trend is now headed the other way.
Professional wrestling offers the illusion of greater violence. Boxing is being supplanted by the much more violent personal combat of Mixed Martial Arts. Now football is arguing about the need to make devastating potentially disabling or fatal hits for the purity of the sport. Even our most formalized entertainments, video games, have grown ever more violent in concept over the last decade.
The underlying concern is that we once again getting enjoyment from ever increasing levels of violence committed on the bodies of other people. At some point there may be no discernible difference between our entertainments and the gladiatorial confrontations of ancient Rome. It’s an historic path that I think we need to carefully consider before we travel too much farther down it. The lack of respect for life in our entertainments has a nasty way of looping back on society itself.
Call that the View From the Phlipside.
"The View From the Phlipside" airs on WRFA-LP Jamestown NY. You can listen to WRFA online HERE
Copyright - Jay Phillippi 2010
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