Rebooting Myself: Navigating Life After a Stroke

Written on January 8, 2024.

Hello Dear Readers,

Reflecting on my stroke often leads me down a path of wonder and confusion. The cause remains a mystery, as extensive medical evaluations have failed to provide any definitive answers. The complexity of my condition posed a significant challenge, not only in terms of personal acceptance but also in explaining it to others. Through much contemplation, I’ve likened my experience to undergoing a factory reset.

This analogy perfectly encapsulates the profound impact the stroke had on me. The intuitive shortcuts and pathways I had formed over the years to manage my bodily functions and interact with my environment were suddenly erased. It was as though I had to start from scratch, relearning basic tasks that had once been second nature. Brushing my teeth, a mundane task I had performed effortlessly countless times before, suddenly became a formidable challenge. Holding the toothbrush felt unfamiliar, and applying toothpaste required a deliberate effort that was previously unnecessary. Brushing itself could have been more problematic and challenging to navigate.

This transformation extended beyond personal care to everyday activities, such as typing. Previously, typing was an automatic process where thoughts seamlessly transformed into words on a screen with minimal conscious effort. However, post-stroke, this task demanded significant focus and patience, as my mental connection to my fingers had been disrupted. The ability to multitask effortlessly, a skill I had taken for granted, was now a source of frustration and a poignant reminder of my lost capabilities.

The rehabilitation journey was arduous, filled with the painstaking task of reacquainting myself with the most straightforward routines. Activities that had once been effortless, such as walking, eating, and personal hygiene, became hurdles to overcome. Despite the frustrations and challenges, I embraced a mindset of resilience and improvement. The notion of reprogramming myself became a silver lining; if I had to start over, I would strive to rebuild myself to be more robust and capable.

The experience of recovering from a stroke is akin to navigating through uncharted territory, with each step forward marking a victory in itself. It tests patience, endurance, and the human spirit’s capacity to adapt and overcome. My story is one of many, a testament to the challenges and triumphs faced by those who have had their lives unexpectedly reset. It is a reminder that, despite adversity, there is hope for renewal and the possibility of emerging stronger.

From One Step to 10K: How Small Choices Built a Resilient New Me After a Stroke

People can be characterized by the sum of their habits.

Everybody has habits, but not everybody chooses their habits. Every choice you make is a step toward forming a life-long habit. As such, making choices that lead you toward your desired destination is critical. So, the first step toward developing good habits is deciding where to end up.

 

After my stroke, I wanted to regain my lost mobility and lessen the burden on my wife I had become. The first step along this journey was to be able to take more than one step between resting. My wife helped immensely with this, and we went on daily walks around our Portland neighborhood.

At first, it was challenging as I had to concentrate on moving my legs. One of the things I lost from the stroke was unconscious control of movements. Walking required concentrating on activating the right leg muscles in the proper order, and doing this for more than a couple of steps resulted in neuro-fatigue, a term I learned during physical therapy.

Neuro-fatigue might be something you’ve experienced if you’ve ever spent a long late night studying for an exam the next day and felt exhausted despite being largely sedentary. This used to happen to me just from walking due to the concentration and mental effort this once simple act demanded. Counting my steps helped me maintain my focus on walking, and it also gave me a way to track improvement.

Initially, I would need to sit down and rest every 50 steps. Still, eventually, I was able to last the hour-long walk until we got home again. Now, I can run 10 kilometers without having to sit down midway. In my next posting, I’ll provide a more detailed description of how I built up to a 10k run.

 

If you want to achieve something, you’ve already taken the first step toward accomplishing it, but you need to take the next step. As I see it, the next step is to subdivide your path into small portions. In my walking, this was easy to determine; I just needed to try and put one more effort than I did on the previous walk. If I failed, I had to try that number repeatedly if necessary. Eventually, I would succeed, and I could increase my goal again.

Eventually, I discovered that what was once all I could manage was now merely halfway to my current goal. If you’re stumbling and trying to take your next step, try making your step smaller.

 

Remember the fable about the tortoise and the hare: slow and steady will win many races.