Inspirational? I 'm working it out.

I've been told on a couple of occasions as to how inspirational my story iss, so I'd thought I'd work on something and see how it goes.

Inspire:

• To influence with an animating, quickening, or exalting influence. produce or arouse, fill or affect a feeling, thought, etc.

To go through 3 hours of one's life and not realise that basic functions, that one thought were thoughtless processes, were being rendered unworkable without a worry is astonishing.

After just 3 hours to be left with these symptoms is unimaginable:

• Unable to move the right arm
• Unable to move the right leg and foot
• Unable to swallow correctly
• Unable to sit up
• Unable to talk properly

To recover most of these functions completely sounds wonderful but not really astounding to a lay-person.

During the next few blogs I'll break each of these components down so as to share what it has taken to my situation today.

A TALE OF DISAPPOINTMENT

A few months ago I was asked if I would speak at a National Stroke Foundation event, I pondered over this for a few minutes and thought to myself that this could be really good. I went back to the person and gratefully accepted stating I'd be really pleased to do this.

After this brief conversation I walked away from this thinking I should read up a bit on public speaking and prepared myself mentally with standing up in front of 100 or so people, talking in detail about my stroke, what happened, how this affected me, setting the scene and going into details of what I went through in the hospital, rehab and the subsequent 10 months. Overall I thought that this would go for at least 30 mins;So this was about 4 months ago and the daunting event was heading directly for me during this time.


I asked my wife to come with me as I felt I needed this moral support and we'd been through this journey together. So we both had arranged with our employers to take this day off, Jac infact had to postpone a day in a spa that she'd been awarded through work.
 
So today I realised that I hadn't informed the NSF that I'd be bringing one guest and called them, I was informed this would be fine; so that was sorted. I was then told I receive the run sheet for the event as I'd asked about the duration of my session.

I received the run sheet and was gob smacked that I was being asked to speak for 5 mins. I was being asked to travel over 2 hrs one way by my own car to stand up for 5 minutes to talk about the most serious event in my life that had taken the past year to overcome. OMG how insulting.

I then immediately rang them and advised them that I was not attending for a 5 minute stint on stage to act as the "Stroke Survivor" roled out to be presented to a paying audience. So although I believe that having someone to speak about an event that has taken both mental and physical endurance to the edge of tolerance could be really great, I will not be a poster boy as a "Survivor" as this doesn't benefit anyone.

I am not desperate to stand up in front of an audience for 5 mins, I imagine it would go something like this: " Good afternoon, my name is Tony, I'm 46 yrs old, married, 2 adult children, worked as a project manager was a little overweight and have had a stroke."

Wow AA seems like a real walk in the park.

Yay, I've been offered a PM role

I'd been thinking that I wouldn't want a Project Manager role again, thinking that I'd be going ahead and making a difference but I've realised that this isn't going to happen quickly and I need to have an involvement within before I can actually make a big difference.

I'd be really happy to be involved in a small amount of voluntary work to make me feel better in myself, as well as take on a full-time PM gig.

So I had a chat with an old colleague and he told me about a position he had, after a brief chat and coffee I was sold. I got to thinking about being in a PM role again and having the ability to make decisions and that really excited me. I'm now very happy to move on and undertake something with a bit more responsibility as I'm not really enthralled about being the SIM card delivery boy.

This role that I've undertaken has been really good, it's enabled me to gain confidence and improve on most aspects of what the stroke took away. I'm actually really excited to be in a PM role again and can't wait to be involved again.

People can be so thoughtless.

'What makes you special?'

               'So you must have had a small stroke then.'

                                                 'You don’t know how lucky you are.'

These are some of the statements that have come from people’s mouths; “Wow!” people are so thoughtless in regards to how these simple sentences can be taken in a different way than how they’re meant.

I don’t know if I’m necessarily special, the strokes I had caused me to arrest,  paralysed my right side, left me unable to walk, write, eat or drink as well as an inability to talk correctly. So I don’t actually consider that as minor. Lucky! Probably not, but does anyone really appreciate what they have. I believe that I have a better idea than most as life as I did know what it was like to have these things taken away from me.

STROKE – It’s not just for the elderly

A little story about a 44 year old man's experience.

22nd August was Sunday morning, dawn hadn’t even cracked, it was 0530hrs and he thought he was just waking up because he needed to use the on-suite. How he wishes that morning had of been like any other.

He was half asleep and tried to move himself off the bed, a normal move was to swing his legs around and sit on the side of the bed. Although he went through this in his head, he realised that he was still lying in the same position, although he’d mentally gone through sitting up, this suddenly brought him to his senses. On realising that he was making noises, as he had done on a couple of occasions whilst having a nightmare; however this time the nightmare was a reality.

He looked over to his wife, as all he could control was above his neck and her eyes opened, he said “Help Me!” and her immediate response was, "Are you awake?" He was unable to string a quick sentence together and said, “I can’t move. Help me!” This sounded really awkward and they both knew that something was wrong.

He sat on the edge of the bed, aided by his wife as he was unable to do this himself. They tried to move him to the en-suite as he felt nauseous. he tried to stand and failed on numerous attempts, he managed to wedge himself into a doorway and made his way to the toilet on all fours, after using a towel rail to steady himself: He had vertigo, he was unable to balance and had to go to the floor before he fell there.

He clung to the toilet bowl for what felt was a couple of minutes, but in reality was, more like 20 minutes;  He’d been falling in and out of consciousness. He thought he could make it to the car, so his wife could drive them to the hospital faster than an ambulance turning out. He proceeded to move from the toilet on all fours and they tried to move him onto the bed. Any strength he had was draining from his body, he couldn’t drag himself on the bed even with his wife’s assistance. He was stuck on an open floor, lying at the foot of the bed and his wife managed to put some tracksuit pants on him as his major concern was that he was dressed: Not
understanding that he was having a stroke.

He was lying at the foot of the bed, unable to drag himself any further, unable to speak clearly. It was like he was talking from an autocue. He could see all the words that he wanted to say but the autocue was broken and moving too quickly. He felt that he was only allowed to say a word so long as it was on the screen and
therefore could only say really short, single syllable words.

His concern was that he wasn’t spoken to like a child, ensuring his wife knew he understood her and everything that was going on. He indicated to his wife that he wanted to communicate to her, he could not speak well enough so he must had mimed writing. She brought a pencil and paper as well as a computer. He was still able to move both hands and proceeded to type out that he understood everything. It was amazing, on glancing at the letters on the screen they were garbled, however his wife quickly realised that his fingers were on the wrong bank of keys to start with and managed to decrypt what was a mess of letters.

He’d fallen in and out of consciousness during this time and his wife had called an ambulance. The paramedics were in attendance and wondered how they were going to undertake a transfer from the floor to the ambulance downstairs. They have steps for both the rear and front entrances, the rear being un-even and
steep, the front being narrow with a U-turn. He was moved down in a collapsible wheelchair, identical to those used by airlines, with oxygen: this required 5 people to move him down the front steps.

As mentioned, he was falling in and out of consciousness and awoke very briefly halfway down the stairs, then being transferred into an ambulance at the top of the drive. He then recalls being transferred to a second ambulance that was located on the road at the bottom of the drive.

He remembers the ambulance doors closing and the driver saying that Box Hill had been put on bypass and they were to go to the Monash. He doesn’t remember any more of the journey  but was later told that he had arrected in the ambulance. Thankfully due to the prompt actions of the Emergency crew he was delivered to the Emergency department alive. The next time he came to was in the Emergency department surrounded by lots of people, screens, wires and the hum of people being extremely busy around him. He was only conscious for about 30 seconds and lost consciousness.

The next few hours were much the same prior to going for an MRI. He remembers the MRI well as this was the scariest he'd ever been in his life, even more than someone holding a loaded weapon at him. This was scary because he was not in control. All he could move were his mouth and eyes as he'd been strapped in to remain still, he was still feeling nauseous and was afraid that he would be sick and unable to deal with this. There were tears in his eyes and he knew that he needed to stay awake through the next 10 minutes.
He had no issue with pain or headaches throughout all of this; in fact all he wanted to do was sleep.

After ungoing this MRI and two brain scans he didn't recieve any medication, there was nothing that the medical staff could do to fix or prevent anything, it was a case of monitoring the patient in-case of any negative signs or symptoms.

After approx' 8 hours in the Emergency department he was moved to the High dependency ward of the Neurology ward, this was because he couldn't swallow or turn over, which meant he needed additional attention whilst he was sleeping.

Throughout all of this he had no idea of the mental anguish that  family and friends were going through.

Suddenly I'd lost my driving licence

Did you know that after a stroke your driving license is automatically revoked.

At first I wasn't fazed by losing my driving licence, I was too focused on my own recovery and walking for this to be of a concern. This later became quite awkward as I was having to go outside of my local vicinity for the next phases of my recovery.

I had no plans to go driving in a car, I knew that my motor skills were shot and my ability to concentrate with my ability for observation outside of my central vision was really poor. Overall I was too dangerous to be behind the wheel of a car.

The first occasion that I missed my ability to drive was to go to the Knox leisure works swimming pool, a distance of 6,5kms approx 15 mins drive, door to door.  Instead I had to walk and take the train and walk at my destination station. The walk to the station took about 25 minutes in my condition, the train journey was 5 mins and the walk from Boronia station to Knox Leisure Works swimming pool  was 20 minutes. With waiting time at the station was about an hour for a 15 minute trip in the car. This was a regular journey that was undertaken twice a week. I had to allow a whole morning for a 40 minute session in the pool.

My other therapy was visiting an Oesteopath, and this was a real eye opener. This was approx a 1km journey that required me to walk 25 mins to the train station, a train journey of 22 mins and then a trip on a bus for about 7.5kms. So a 25 minute car ride took about 1hr 40 mins, with waiting time.

My first time of sitting in the drivers seat was under close supervision of  the wife, it was about 2 months after the stroke. We went to an empty car park where I would try to maneouvre the car from one space to another. I found that I couldn't control my foot to take very small movements. We wither accelerated quite quickly or broke very sharpely, thankfully we both wore our seat belts otherwise my wife would have had a headache or a broken nose from the dash-board. I agreed that it was too soon to undertake my assessment and also that we'd revisit this in two weeks.

After two weeks we tried again, this time the acceleration was alot smoother but still un-safe if there were other parked cars around but the breaking was very sharp. Another 2 weeks grace was agreed.
After another 2 weeks the driving was a slight improvement and we agreed that I should put in for my assessment.

Prior to the assessment I also had to undertake some eye checks, because I have toxoplasmosis and  only have central vision in one eye, I was required by Vic Roads to verify that my vision had not been affected by the stroke. Thankfully this wasn't the case, I passed the peripheral field tests and my vision had been passed by an opthalmologist fit enough to drive.

The Vic roads assessment is required to ensure one is safe on the road, this was not an assessment of my driving skills but that I was not going to be a danger to myself or others on the road. The assessment was undertaken with a dual controlled driving instructors car with a driving instructor in the front passenger seat with the Occupational Therapist, with their Vic Roads hat on in the back seat.

My assessment was booked, I had to wait 3 weeks for a vacancy but this allowed for 3 weeks additional recovery time. I was immediately asked to take the drivers seat and we proceeded to go through the assessment. The pressures were much like that of a driving test and I had to remind myself that my driving itself was not being assessed. We did brake a bit sharply on one occasion but we arrived back all safe, I'd passed!

The first time I took the car out was a very nerve racking experience, it's much like taking your parents car out on your own for the first couple of times. I was still either accelerating really quickly or bracking a bit too sharply, however these becoming less often.

I'd become a really poor driver, much like someone who was a little bit too tense behind the wheel. Thankfully this is improving, I'm certainly improving a lot over time and say thanks to my wife for her bravery in allowing me to drive occasionally.

Learning to write again

Although I'd lost my fine motor skills and any strength in my right arm I didn't really know what this would mean on what I'd have to undertake within my recovery.

When I'd regained enough strength to fight gravity, and worked to recover my ability on picking up and holding a pen I initially tried to write. Wow this was a big shock, I couldn't!

I'll explain what I mean by that. Well due to the impact of one stroke my motor skills were affected, this meant that I couldn't initially move my fingers, hand and arm, this was my major motor skills. Little did I know was that the same happened to my fine motor skills, I couldn't undertake small movements or move the small muscles quickly. Also I was unable to apply constant pressure, my muscles couldn't undertake this sort of workout and would work extremely sporadically. This meant I was unable to draw a straight line and I was unable to draw short distances, full stops, commas, speech marks. These were just too difficult.

I'd learned in my earlier years the typing of one sentence to prove all the letters of a mechanical keyboard worked correctly (Seriously I'm not that old), so I used this to write my first sentence, as it would use all the letters of the alphabet; this sentence is:

"The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog"

It was around around 5 weeks before I wrote this sentence for the first time. I managed to complete it, stopping on numerous occasions, Sizing and spacing were all over the place, I wrote each letter separately, every line was jagged and it took me approx 2 minutes 30 seconds. I was writing like a 4 year old hat new their alphabet, but slower.

I kept up the tracing, keeping the sheet and dating it. I was noticing an improvement but also noticed that if I didn't practice things weren't miraculously going to fix itself. We put a timetable together which was my job, my job being to work at my recovery. I sat down and wrote for approx an 30 mins to an hour a day, Monday through Friday.

My controls improved immensely and I then tried to do joined up writing. This was a real shock as I again couldn't! I'd forgotten haw to join letters together. I'd asked my daughter to get me some basic writing books. The sort that are used if you want to help your kid at home. I used these to try and fix my ability of joining these letters and continued to work my way through these books.

After 2 months I'd recovered enough to think about looking for a job, it was January 2011 and I was really ashamed of my handwriting. I could write legibly but this was slow, untidy and looked like it had been produced by a child.

It's now June 2011, my writing is still slow, slightly more improved but there is one major exception: I'm no longer ashamed.

Running - Really it.s not that easy

After the stroke I'd been left with right sided paralysis, all my right sided muscles being wiped of all strength, arms, legs, foot, toe and torso.

After 3 months of recovery and rehab I really wanted to go out for a run. This wasn't something that I loved to do before hand but I felt I needed to prove to myself that I was could be as good as new

I went out with the idea of having a jog, I still had a bit of difficulty with walking, but not enough for me to have second thoughts. I started by walking slightly quicker and then thought about breaking into a jog.

The first few steps were very strange, my left side was working as normal but my right side felt very awkward. When taking a pace with my right foot I felt and pressure in every bones and joints of my lower left limb.

The feeling was not only very awkward but painful, my bones were feeling the impact and indirectly transferring this impact to joints and connecting bones. I initially described this as if my right leg was mad of wood, however a better description was like a very highly compact piece of rubber.

I realised that my suspension had been forgotten. My muscles either turned on or off, where as muscles don't often work at their full capacity and often work in conjunction with each other. If one muscled cannot work at the required capacity then another muscle automatically tries to help. In my situation my muscles didn't know how to restrict their output and all tried to work at their full capacity. This then caused the awkward sensations in my running.

I called this session to an abrupt halt, after no more than 50 metres. I wanted to run but knew that if I persisted I would be causing damage to my bones and limbs. I walked home wondering how I was going to train this leg and came up with an idea of going to the swimming pool.

I took to the pool the next day, taking the train and walking as I was unable to drive. Once in the water I wondered what I was going to do? Since the major problem was that I had no suspension I thought "Hop". So I took to the shallow end, using as much depth of water to be comfortable and proceeded to hop. I was going really well and went to the swimming pool 3 times a week. I proceeded to hop for 5 minutes, reducing the amount of depth and counted the amount of hops over a set distance. I also joined pensioners and unfit people in an aquasise class but this is another story.

After undertaking around 1 month of hopping in the water I decided to give running a go again as the scenery was going to be more exciting. I went out for the run and found that things had improved quite a bit, my lower limb felt like the piece of rubber had become more pliable, I still didn't have the suspension working properly and it felt as if it was 60% there.

I made a decision after the run that I'd give it another couple of goes and If there was very little or no improvement I'd go back in the pool, hopping again. Thankfully I felt slight improvement and continued jogging.

As well as the suspension issue my stride in both legs was smaller than normal. My calf muscle and achilles tendon suffered. I was stretching these out but out on one run I'd covered only about 500 metres and I had excruciating pain, so much so that I had to stop running and walked back. This led to a twice weekly visit for a sports massage. This was the most painful part in my whole rehab but after 3 weeks I was good to go again.

After starting work my jogs started to reduce and quickly reduced to zero. I went out for a jog at the weekend and it was amazing! I felt like I was 95% there, I'd improved through time and going to a personal trainer working on getting the muscles to work properly.

I have a charity run lined up on the 17th July, ( http://www.runmelbourne.com.au/cmspage.php?intid=199&intversion=7 ) I hope to be slightly better however even so happy that I can run around this circuit unlike many others that have had a stroke........... Wish me luck    :o)

Are we too wrapped in our own lives..........Or is there something that I'm missing?

This is a sort of rhetorical question but I do wonder.

So I'm doing a bit of a run, it's 5kms, so wouldn't be very difficult for a the average person, I sent out sponsorship links to friends, family and colleagues who I thought would sponsor me. I'm not doing this for me but to raise a small amount of money for others.

I was obviously wrong to believe that the people I knew were like minded, maybe it's a perspective thing but I am so confused that there has been such little response. The very few people that have donated have been awesome, some high amounts and others lower but that doesn't matter. I am really appreciative for anyone that had donated. In my mind I have linked these donations with peoples acknowledgement of the tough road to recovery that I've had to travel myself.

With those that saw me after the stroke, colleagues that have read my story and people that new me before, I expected a different outcome. I believe that people are too wrapped up on their own misery to look up and see that there are people in need that have not brought it on themselves. I sometimes briefly think, "If only they knew" but then I couldn't wish anything this bad on my worst enemy.

I say to myself that it isn't their fault, they are the people that need help but that doesn't help those that can't help themselves

Well this doesn't deter me, even though it was only be 10 months ago that I couldn't walk more than 100 metres before I had to stop. I know that I have exceeded what the medical profession expected and I will make a full recovery, maybe I've been given the opportunity to see what it's like on the otherside that has changed my perspective, I thought that I was generous by giving to a friend who was doing something for charity, but maybe I was the same as the majority.

Good News..........

I made a doctors appointment yesterday, had a few things to sort out as well as wanting my blood pressure checked.

I needed a letter to be able to go to a personal trainer, another as a referral to a Neurologist, my cholesterol results, a repeat prescription and my blood pressure checked.

the letters were written, my blood pressure taken 120/90, which was pretty good. My cholesterol results were great, 2.6 and they had to be below 4.0. This was great news and the doctor agreed that my medication can be reduced.

Yeah for doing better............ My new prescription has my cholesterol medication halved........ Wahey

Boredom, how I can take it as a positive thing..

I'm going to work these days wondering if it's going to become more interesting

It's been a strange few months, you can be sure that I've never had 8 months quite like it.

So I had the stroke, we all know about that, and spent 5 months going through a bit of rehabilitation. I had the hardest 3 months of my life, and then kept in the mood for recovery but tried to mix it up as things were starting to get a bit boring.

In January I was starting to suffer from boredom. Friends, as well as Jac, were at work and daily life was very lonely. I was happy to chat to someone with regards to my condition and ended up as this as my only topic of conversation. I suppose this is understandable as dealing with the stroke was all encompassing.

So with people not being around I started to think about and look into jobs. I was stupidly honest to most agencies about my condition and spent 3 weeks in not being successful in my job hunting. I can understand ex work colleagues being nervous about employing me but I was also saddened that these people didn't have the confidence to give me a go.In the end Certatech did and I had a job....... Yay!

I go into this role fully understanding what's required and there's me thinking I"m not sure that I can do this' Thankfully this wasn't the case and alll was going well.

It's now been 2 months, we've gone through setting up the program management team, defining and writing process, doing the set up parts for the program and now doing the ticking over parts now and I'm finding this really easy. I'm so bored that I'm looking and asking for work.

After thinking about it, I'm bored because I'm finding work easy. That means I'm looking for more challenges and feel confidant with my progress.

Therefore on this occasion, boredom is a positive thing.

I don't intentionally try to be alone............

Jac has headed off to the United States on a business trip and I am pretty certain that I'll have a minimal amount of conversations outside of work for the next week.

I wonder how many conversations I'll have outside of work and not with a shop person, during the next week? I'm going to keep a track of this as I don't believe I have any regular close friends.

I've just returned from the airport and whilst parking the car realised that I was going to be pretty lonely this week, I walked in the house and found myself starting to feel a bit sad with the thought that life was going to be lonely. I don't really understand why but it has been like this since I can remember, School, Army and life in genera, apart from with family. This may have something to do with moving around so much but I believe there could be something more.

I thought that I was a nice guy, not angry or bitter but I just don't have the same connections with others, I've wondered if I was just different. Any friendships that appear to be being close happen to go distant, is this because I've pushed them away, is it because I come across too needy or controlling; I don't think it is, but I know that I'm not funny, I can come out with a witty remark and can be humorous, but I'm not really funny, I don't follow international affairs closely, but nor do others, I'm not lost when there's a conversation going on and do add to it in an appropriate place. Really, I maybe wrong but it could be plain and simple, I could be just plain old boring.

I don't have a great love of motorsports, I don't know loads about motor bikes and I don't seem to have a lot in common with people of my age. I had kids when I was in my early 20's, which is really different to most. Now that I'm in my 40"s, I have a grown up family whilst most others have kids at home to consider. I've gone through my adult life being in a minority group. I don't really enjoy spending so much time alone but its pretty apparent that this is to be.

I guess that this is life, especially since I had my stroke. Either people don't want to know me because they think I'm damaged goods and people don't want to take the risk or I don't have a lot going in my personality. I'll see what the future holds but I won't be desperate in trying to make friends. Friendship, I believe is good fun and is give and take. I'm just not gonna keep giving without receiving,

I believe that it wasn't too much to ask that my friends show themselves in my time of need, sadly these were few and now I've got to come to terms with that. It's pretty hard to accept but I know that I don't need others to enjoy my life.

Where the hell is the road............?

Whilst in rehab I thought that once out of there I would be taking a well trodden road to recovery, sadly I was completely wrong and so the following paragraphs portray.

I was fresh out of rehab when I made contact with a support group under the assumption that they could be my guide and partner on the route that I'd just begun, I was disappointed and soon left this support group as I felt they'd accepted their situation and this wasn't where I was happy to be at this time. Surely this wasn't how I was going to end up, I was pretty unsteady with walking (like a drunk person trying to act sober), had speech issues and had severe right side weakness. I've didn't go back to this group as I believed that these were people not on the correct road but resigned to remaining on the ring-road in the slow lane.

I took this experience as a positive, in that this was not the right way to go. I sent a couple of emails, basically looking for someone to point me in the right direction, and ended up indicating to a few people that I was out here and was looking for guidance. I received a couple of responses, nothing specific and did nothing with some very generic information.

I was seeing various therapists from the public hospital and received a mixed bag of support, knowledge and help. I asked these people for directions as I was still looking for the correct road and even asked these people if there was anyone they knew of, that was also looking for the same road as I, and did they have their details. I ended up being let go by this group as they'd done all they could for me; I was safe to be out on my own in the community, but I wanted more. They'd helped me down a road and left me at the side of a road and said goodbye leaving me in the middle of nowhere, I didn't know where I was or which direction to take, grateful for what they'd done but disappointed that they couldn't point me in any direction.

I was still looking out to see if there was anyone with some directions, and met up with one person that was also on this road, lost but seemingly content with how he was going. I only stuck with this guy for a short time as I found he was too open with his condition and wanted to inform anyone that would listen. I don't know if he was looking for sympathy or to be honoured as a hero, either way I was uncomfortable with this behaviour and set off on the journey by myself again.

I continued to look for a signpost or guide and kept travelling on. I spoke to someone who was on what appeared to be an over-pass overhead, there was no way to join them on that road but we had a good chat. I was told that there wasn't any signposts or someone to guide me, but as they couldn't stop still they wished me well on my journey and we departed. I moved on down this road, knowing that it was the right direction and also knowing there was no guide or signposts. This new information was disappointing but not a shock as there hadn't been any direction arrows for quite some time.

I felt better knowing that I was on the correct road, the concern that I was just not able to see the road signs. Finding that there was someone who had travelled this road, although unmarked, enabled me trust in my instincts.

I knew that I was on the correct road and now had came to the conclusion that I could keep looking or head-off with a purpose. I chose the latter and proceeded to go with my gut feeling, as I'd made my way through some serious fog and followed this road in the what I now knew to be the correct direction.

I took on water aerobics as I didn't feel confidant in going to a gym, I took up pilates and went to weekly classes as I knew and felt that I'd lost some of my flexibility. This also helped fix my core strength, which was also severely affected. I also obtained a weight bench to strengthen my arms and legs, as well as borrowing a friend's treadmill. These activities helped me tremendously, I knew and could feel things improving, noticing changes every couple of days. These weren't obvious changes, however I was amazed at the improvements and could feel the benefits. I also chose to stimulate my mind/memory by using some specialised computer software. This also helped my typing, reactions and fine motor skills in moving the mouse. In addition to all of this I also used childrens' writing books to remind me how to form characters. I found that although I could read, I'd forgotten how to write. After putting together a timetable of activities, mixing up these activities so as to not be bored and taking time out to take in walks, I found that things were improving.

I continued down this path for some time, I didn't feel that I was unsure of where to go and the path looked to be clearer the further down I was going. I still didn't have a guide but I was more confident in the direction I was headed. The road appeared to be endless but it was like I'd reached a high point in my journey and could see both the end of the journey and the road meandering a path in front of me.

Although I'm still on this journey, walking down this road, and occasionally running, I know the road is heading in the right direction; I'm uncertain that it will take me to the destination I wanted initially, but happy in the knowledge that it'll take me really close. I'm not too concerned that I may end up a little bit off where I'd intended, I never was perfect at map reading and the place I end up in will be better than my original destination.

I can't say that going with your gut will always bring you great results - I still remember how bad I am at picking greyhounds - however I would say that when stuck with a tough decision, go with your gut. I've lived my life by this and can honestly say that whenever I'd gone against my gut feeling in my early years I always regretted it.

And so my time of living at home came to an end..............Boarding School

I was at the tender age of 7 years when this came about, my brother had been at boarding school for a year and all the talk was about sending my sister within the next year. My parents didn’t want to send us, we weren’t anarchic children, its just dad was in the army and knew that we’d be moving every 3 years, therefore they agreed that boarding school was going to be our best start for an education.

So activities in the house-hold were for my sister to go to a new school. She was having lots of new clothes, new things and I was 6 and looking on with green eyes. One day, probably whilst in the kitchen, after being given wrong for something and very likely not long after being belted for breaking the tip of my brothers sheath knife, I told my mum that she didn’t love me and proceeded to tell her that it was because they’d sent my brother to boarding school and would be sending my sister as well. I was jealous of my siblings and wanted a share of this boarding school action.

Discussions obviously took place when my dad returned from work and all I remember is that we were looking at where I could go. It was all a bit of a rush job as I only visited the school that I ended up attending. It was an hour outside of London, at the north coast of Kent, Grenham House in Birchington.

After visiting the school and thinking that it was fantastic, it had a large sports field, a tennis court and was close to the beach. I was really excited to be going to this place. In the forth coming months I was going shopping, being measured for clothing and receiving loads of new stuff:  what 6 year old wouldn’t love all this?

I don’t remember much about the day I started but can remember components of my years here. We had 6 classes, these were split up roughly between year groups, I ended up being moved at the end of every year, I didn’t know if this was a promotion but I do remember doing really well in the exams and coming in the top 3 of the class. I was never first in English as I remember the guy always received a book. I did come first in Maths however I don’t remember receiving anything apart from acknowledgement from the headmaster.

Class 6 was the youngsters, we had a teacher called Miss McKenzie ( I don’t know how I remember that, maybe I was obsessed) who wore floral dresses. One memory is that we’d ask her to retrieve stuff off the higher shelves, she’d end up standing on the desk to reach and I’d peak up her dress: on one occasion she had on matching flowery panties. I guess this was when my interest in the female anatomy sparked.

We had a school bell that was rung to let the pupils playing outside it was time to go in for the night. On this memorable occasion it was summer and there were quite a few kids out playing, the bell went signifying to the first years that they had to go in. This boy ran past us and was heading inside when he ran into the side of a wall, being kids we thought this was funny and giggled. He didn’t move and so we proceeded to carry him to the nurse. There were at least eight boys trying to move him and it was decided to send a runner to inform the nurse that we were on our way and what had happened. We continued moving this boy and then someone noticed a wet patch increasing in his groin area. This caused hilarity amongst us kids and once we’d regained our composure proceeded to take this boy to the nurse. We ended up bumping his head a couple of times, once on the steps leading to the nurse’s room. We delivered this boy to the nurse and then headed off to prepare for bed. We were told in assembly the next morning that this boy had died, I can’t remember his name but they built a library in his memory.

I was really fortunate that I was introduced to hockey here, I was 7 when I first picked up a stick, I wasn’t immediately fantastic and had to wait until I was 8 to find out that this was the sport for me. At 11 years I was playing for the 1st XI, they were all 12 and 13 years of age. There was one match, played annually, were we were playing a ladies under 18’s team. This match was against the Westgate Ladies and a write up was always in the local paper. We lost 1-3 but I did score and for the first time was reading read my name in the newspaper as one of the goal scorers.



It was here that I met my oldest mate of whom I'm still in touch, even if it is occasionally, and am connected through Facebook. We last saw each other at 16, as we ended up going to the same secondary school.

I was 10 years old and therefore planning to move on to secondary school. I had to sit examinations to be invited into the school. I passed these as well as my 11+. The 11+ was an examination taken prior to attending secondary school and identified if you went to a grammar school. Thankfully I didn’t need my 11+ and it was only I who bothered that I passed; perhaps I should stop using this as a qualification, now.

I moved on from Grenham House at the end of the school year all excited about entering the Duke of York’s Royal Military School. I wonder why I ended up in the army.

Returning to Work

Returning to work has become a bit of my pet subject lately. After undergoing this process myself recently and finding the whole task extremely frustrating, disappointing and upsetting, I’ve realised the extent of trauma I was trying to overcome.

I wasn’t just trying to obtain a job, I was trying to regain some control in my life. By having a job, this would enable me to have something else to focus my attention on: instead of the focus being all about me I would have to undertake regular tasks.

I had to also overcome the understandable scepticism there is about employing someone that is returning from a chronic illness. I found that people who knew me were reluctant to push roles my way and even avoided having an awkward phone call. New agencies failed to return my applications once making them aware of my situation, even though there had been in contact prior to them being made aware. Although I can understand their reluctance in taking on a return to work candidate, it doesn’t mean their attitude should be acceptable.

I had a fair idea on my own ability and needed to show people that I was not the risk that they perceived I could have been. I was hopeful that the reputation I had prior to the event would ‘ve stood me in good stead with any ex-colleagues or associates, however this appeared to only count with one person, who kept in contact, once I’d instigated and made him aware of my current position. This guy seemed to actually listen to me and didn’t seem to be driven by the bottom line. It was a shame that more people weren’t this way inclined, maybe there was a case of being afraid of the unknown but some of that could’ve been cleared up from a catch up or a disicussion.

I knew that I couldn’t hope to come back in the same role as I used to hold, thankfully being a program manager there were a few angles for me to take. I was hopeful to pick up a role that had no responsibility, had someone overseeing my outputs and someone that could point me in the correct direction if I was making basic errors. It was a case of “I didn’t know what I didn’t know”. Which may sounds silly but when you’ve forgotten something that you know you once knew, anything’s possible.

I knew that I was being really hopeful in what I was wishing for and believed that if a program management office was just trying to start up, then that would be the role for me.

I must’ve been weeding amongst four leaved clovers one day, as I received a phone call from Mark, the person that was trying to help me. He asked me if I’d had any luck and proceeded to discuss an availability that had recently arisen from a brief conversation. I was asked to go in the next day and meet up with the guy I’d be working with. Thankfully I’d been successful with an interview with this guy 3 years ago, the role fell through but I’d obviously made a positive impression with him. I went for the chat, talking about the role and returning to work and the role was exactly what I’d been hoping for.

The only problem with taking this role was my pride. It was basically not my train set anymore, which may sound a bit funny but that was the hardest part of taking this role. We were both extremely honest with each other at the interview and left it with both of us having the opportunity to think on it.

After talking the offer out with my wife, we both agreed that this was an opportunity that I couldn’t turn my back on, I rang Mark back to provide him my response and then had to wait to be told if there was a position for me. This was suddenly a really nervous wait for that phone call to come in.

I only had to wait 24 hours when Mark advised me that the position was mine. This was a great result but only the start of what was to become a journey that I didn’t know I was going to go on.

I’ve learnt from this experience that trying to return to work is a hurdle in its own right, I’m therefore working towards making this easier for others that are in this situation and hope to share some good news in the near future.

Friends

True friends stab you in the front.

Oscar Wilde

I've recently wondered about friendships and have come to the conclusion that it's pretty simple, just made complex because I just didn't understand it. Now that's changed and I can't believe that I didn't see it sooner.

Friendships form an important part of our life, but as life's a journey then why did I get upset when some friendships weren't consistent along the path I'd chosen.

There are plenty of different types of friends and not all of them are for the duration of one's journey.

There are many forms of friendships, Short term, long term, social, a period in time, relative, colleague

Just because you don't have a friendship at this precise moment in time, you have to understand that this doesn't represent what you may of had in your past. Don't be upset when you try a revisit old friendships and it isn't the same. You've both moved on from that point in time, had different experiences and also may have different perceptions of life. It doesn't hurt to catch up but don't go looking for friendships that were literally a point in time.

Work colleagues, team members, etc... are exactly that, they don't move on when you do. There are friendships that can fall into more than one category, which may mean that someone you meet as a work colleague can become a long term friend. There doesn't seem to be a set rule for this and we don't have badges to identify the type of friend one is, however everyone seems to know their place.

The ending of friendships doesn't always have to be caused from a disagreement, although that's a pretty sound way of closing the deal. Others relationships just extinguish if left alone.

Close friendships are few and far between, you can be long term friends that aren't close but you seem to only have a few really close friends. These are friends that you know you'd literally do anything for. To have friends like these is fantastic, you don't have to work at being friends with these people and know that you can pick up your friendship from where you left it.

I'm lucky enough to have a few people that I'd literally drop everything to be there for. I know they'll not have to ask but I know also that I will be there.

Friendship - I now get it

And so it began..........

Hi,

I suppose it was inevitable but I just never new.

It was only from writing an innocuous piece on the train on Thursday that has led to me starting up a blog. I'd started putting pen to paper in regards to returning to work after 6 months from being struck down from a stroke.

My thoughts on the blog is that It'll be a bit of every day life and experiences as well as writing pieces in regards to the stroke, my recovery and what I've taken from this episode in my life.

I'm amazed that I haven't stated undertaking something like this sooner, I've never thought of keeping a diary or writing down my experiences but can start to see the benefits of writing life's experiences as a totally new perspective is obtained.

About me a little, I was born in Malaysia, grew up in England, went to boarding school from the age of 7, there's a little story to that. Joined the army at 16 and served until I was 31. Went into the telecoms industry and migrated to Australia. I've been married, twice, have 2 kids, one or them estranged. Have a brother and Sister as well as my Mum in the UK.

I guess there's some decent stuff in there to write about, so I guess I'll use this blog to go into detail on some of these points too.

I guess we'll end it there for today but I feel excited with how this could go.