Friday, November 29, 2019

NaBloPoMo - Day 29 - Loss of Control

Imagine that you are trapped inside your own brain.
Imagine that you can hear and understand what is said to you,
but you can't answer because the word you want to say won't come out.
Imagine that you're given something on a written piece of paper,
but the letters seem alien, foreign, 
even though you've known them since you were a child.
Imagine that your limb won't function the way it's supposed to.
Imagine that you can't control how it moves,
and sometimes it moves even if you don't want it to.
If you're not imagining this, and it's happening to you
you've just had a stroke.

I mentioned a couple of days ago that I really hate working the holidays
because there's always one case amoungst the myriad of patients
that come in that affects you more than most.
I figured the code of the young patient would be 
the sad case of the holiday,
but this stroke patient is pretty close.

Of course they had a great family.
Of course they were pretty healthy up until they weren't.
Of course they had been intelligent, hard-working, a loving parent...
And since the law of the ED dictates that bad things happen to good people
now they've had a stroke.
They came in too late to receive the clot-buster drug.
They didn't have an operable lesion.
They'll have to wait and see what function returns.
I gave their family some hope of partial recovery
with the expectation of long weeks of physical and occupational therapy.
Only time will tell...

I hate working the holidays...


betty said...

I may be a bit fatalistic but I hope if I have a stroke that I can't recover most function from that it is a stroke that causes my death. I don't want to be in this position but of course would "live" with it if it was the will of God. Its different being a transcriptionist and not dealing with patients directly, but there were a few patients and their outcomes that made me cry when I was transcribing their reports. I won't forget the death summary of a little child and the words dictated about the mother's support and love at the end of the little one's life nor the doctor's words of condolences to a patient's daughter on her mother's passing where he was in tears and I was in tears alongside him, albeit he was dictating on a tape I was transcribing. Neither of those events though happened by a holiday.


Lori said...

I'm so sorry. Fear of not being able to get the right word to come out is one I have, whether from a stroke or from some form of dementia.

Featured Post...

The Mid 40's are in the Books

For some reason I never got around to writing about traveling to National Parks numbers 44, 45 and now 46...! Back at the end of June...