The Daily Log Book
Just 25 years ago, at the age of 31, I underwent an operation for the removal of a cranial birth defect called an Arterial Venous Malformation (AVM). I had a stroke during the procedure, and my life was forever changed. The AVM was located in my left hemisphere, and it affected the blood flow to the motor strip and the Brocha's area of the frontal lobe. My deficits were many, including right-side hemiplegia, seizures and aphasia. I had to learn how to walk, talk, and communicate. I could not even point or vocalize. Or write. Reading was hard. Self-care, control my temper, deal with the lost of cognition, short term memory, lower IQ.... I was a mess.
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My rehabilitation period melded into college, where I specialized in vocational rehabilitation counseling. It took ten years to reach my goal of working full time. I worked for two years at 40 to 50 hours a week before I realized that I was working and sleeping--nothing else. With a sad heart, I applied for SSDI once again and my employer allowed me to work on a part-time basis.
But, during this long process, I did learn a thing or two about loss.
I recognize the gain in personal insight would be harder to accomplish without the disability. For that, I'm grateful.
I learned to Celebrate each accomplishment.
I remember saying (singing) my first words, and the crying at that moment.... It had been six weeks since my stroke. I was in speech therapy for the next two years.
I remember needing someone to one to help me go to the bathroom and my first shower, alone. I learned I did not have to use hot water to brush my teeth, that instead I could reach across my body to turn the cold spigot on. I had to be told that, otherwise, I would continue to use the hot water. The awkward embarrassment when I was reminded that there isn't a left and right sock, but only left and right shoe. Writing of my first phrase, and soon after, a complete sentence. Learning how to spell numbers so that I could write fictitious checks. Asking the occupational therapist (OT) to write out the words, one through nine, so that I could study the spelling. How small I felt, having to copy, letter by letter, a three letter word! The hatred and shame I felt over speech therapy-- no, that's not it. The shame, discuss and self-loathing I felt for myself.... Once in school, I had to learn mathematics and writing from the 2nd and 3rd grade level. I learned to live with blinders on, concentrating instead on the step-by-step process, and not the pitiful shape of my mind.
Resonating is the statement above, "The shame, discuss and self-loathing I felt for myself...." I have an image burned into my mind of my Daily Log Book.
I was assigned to keep the log during my rehabilitation stay at the hospital by the speech therapist. 12 simple sentences were all that was required to complete the task each day. I completed the task using a pencil because of the many mistakes that I made. As I now open the Log Book, along with the many spelling errors, I can see 2 glaring mistakes that I overlooked regarding the date of the entry and the confusion of my right and left. Many of the sentences I wrote each day I copied from the day before, word for word and letter by letter. I worked two hours each evening on this Log Book. And I can still feel the pain, "The shame, discuss and self-loathing...." I was embarrassed to let anyone view the log for many years.
To this day, I do not know what possessed me to keep the Log Book, tucked away and hidden, instead of throwing it out altogether. Now, the Log Book is a treasure.
I graduated Richland College with an associates degree and a 4.0 GPA. I applied to Southern Methodist University and was selected to be interviewed for a full scholarship. SMU was giving face-to-face interviews to the top 20 applicants in order to select for 10 scholarships. I brought handouts and my Log Book for my interview before the scholarship committee. I opened Log Book and told my story to the group, 15 (or so) professors and administrators. I said that their decision the will have NO EFFECT ON ME, because, you see, I had already won! Here we are gathered today, interviewing for a scholarship to a prestigious university! I had done the hard part already. The only thing at stake is how much I was going to pay. The important thing is, I was accepted and I was going to SMU.
And I graduated in 1999.
So, I learned to live in each moment.
I learned the importance and value of connecting with people.
I learned that I am unique. In my disability, I found that few people know what it is like to be disabled, or even the understanding. And then, sometime later came the realization that I was unique before my disability, that I see things that others don't; I didn't know.
I learned that I could relearn the skills I had lost, though it would continue to be harder than it was before the surgery and stroke. I accept that.
When I fell and broke my hip this past year, I knew what to expect with my rehabilitation. My positive emotional state was essential for the best outcome.
Oh, about that SMU interview--I received the scholarship.