Last week was my first full week back to work since Thanksgiving, and I've got to admit I was more than just a wee bit nervous. I was glad my return to the office the week before happened to fall on a three-day week since my energy level isn't quite back to 100 percent just yet and I sure didn't want to fall asleep at my desk. I won't say I've never dozed off for a few minutes during all the years I've been in the workforce, but let's be gut honest here ... falling asleep at my desk the first week I come back to work after having a stroke would not have been good. Not good at all. You know as well as I do that someone would have seen me with my head down on my desk or slumped back in my chair with my eyes closed and immediately thought, "Well, that's it. Terrie's dead." So yes, I'm thankful, both for my sake and that of the co-worker who would have suffered untold emotional distress had they found me sleeping, that I did indeed stay awake upon my return to work.
Believe it or not, it wasn't until last weekend that I actually began reading about the type of stroke I had. Weird, I know, and definitely out of character for me considering my usual insatiable quest for knowledge. I'll attribute my lack of research regarding my stroke to the fact that my vision was significantly impacted in the first few weeks after it happened. You only get a smidge of information when you say "Hey, Google, tell me about lower right occipital lobe strokes" ... certainly not enough for an extraordinarily curious mind such as mine ... which is why last weekend I decided it was time I learned more about what had taken place inside my head, and I was finally feeling brave enough to read up on what's ahead for me regarding my continued recovery. So ... after sleeping in until 12:30 p.m. last Saturday, I spent a good part of the remainder of the day curled up on the couch with my wiener dog and my laptop gathering as much info as I could on the fascinating and glorious thing that is the human brain.
Don't worry, I'm not going to wax on about everything I gleaned from what I read last weekend ... that would take way too long and involve way too much risk for yours truly with regard to misspellings and incorrect wording. But I would like to share just a bit as to what I've learned. I'd never even heard of the occipital lobe of the brain before my recent visit to the hospital ... hey, I flunked biology in college, twice, so back off with the science jokes, OK? Since what prompted my ending up in the hospital was the fact that I couldn't see very well, it wasn't exactly surprising to learn that the occipital lobe of the brain is dedicated to vision. Technically, it receives information transmitted via the eyes, processes that information and then sends it on to the frontal lobe which formulates a response. Of the four major lobes of the brain, the occipital is the smallest but the one most used in our daily lives.
I'm sure you've heard the saying, "Small rudders guide great ships," and that's very true when it comes to the occipital lobe. Trauma to that little section of the brain, whether from injury or infection or stroke or tumor, has the potential to wreak a lot of havoc in regard to what a person sees or doesn't see. A person could lose their sight completely, be unable to recognize people or objects, experience significant issues with depth perception and balance or even have hallucinations. In my case, I have what's called congruous homonymous hemianopia. In laymen's terms, I have a fried fuse in my brain that's messing with my field of vision and causing me to be more sensitive to bright light than I was before the stroke. I'm currently going to brain rehab a couple of times a week where some really awesome folks are teaching me how to retrain that small piece of gray matter in my noggin to quite literally see things in a different light. And bonus ... I get to wear a totally cool pirate eye patch when I'm reading.
If you've been reading along with me for a while, you know that I've gone through some dark times over the years ... times when I was ready to throw in the towel and be done with living. Which is why when the doctors and nurses started talking to me about there being a high risk of depression following a stroke, I made up my mind before I ever left the hospital that I would do everything in my power to keep that from happening. The weird thing is that, for now at least, the stroke has had entirely the opposite effect on me. It's made me appreciate things I used to take for granted, to slow down and enjoy life, to not be afraid of new adventures and to spend more time with the people I love. And it's made me determined to find the good ... and the funny ... in this part of my journey.
I'm so thankful, friends, to be alive and to have only a small blind spot as my "stroke leftover." I will admit, however, to having a little fun with some of the young folks in my office after explaining to them that some people have hallucinations following an occipital stroke. When they ask me if that's happened to me, I smile and say, "Oh, no. Absolutely no hallucinations for me, thank goodness." Then the next time I see them, I say something like, "Tigers aren't really my thing, but that one over there by the window is gorgeous. You see that, right?"
Have a great week, friends ... remember to keep your chin up, your sense of humor intact and your grateful meter in tip-top shape. Stay tuned for my next post ... I kind of like this whole talk-writing thing.
No comments:
Post a Comment