Over a period of we week, I became more and more sensitive to things around me. There was much excitement but also terrible disappointment. There was stress about possible eviction. And excitement about a possibility to join a church’s missions division. Then the procrastination by the pastor; even this morning he yet again failed to show up for a meeting he had set yesterday.
More and more straw on the camel’s back.
Then came a few nights where I just could not sleep, there were sudden headaches and I arrived at the doctor’s yesterday, having skipped yet another night’s sleep, with sudden, sharp headaches. I was given a form to fill in. Oh, that’s easy! I have been filling in tax returns, insurance forms of various sorts, other financial forms, death- and birth registrations, the list is endless. So I look at this form and I think it was printed on Jupiter. I cannot speak and, finally I manage to say a few words. On this form….a drawing of a pine tree or a camel? I see lines, many lines. What on earth do I have this paper for? Paper. Papers.
There is a long wait. I remember I have a wife; where is she? I call her on the phone, she said I kept saying “Papers. Papers. I don’t understand the papers. I don’t understand.” I recall none of this, but I do remember crying and feeling ashamed as there were people all around me who saw. They checked my vital signs; somehow I remember that to some extent and that my blood pressure was high but reasonable. 161/83. Blood glucose was 9.4; not good but also not as bad as 18. They did find a pulse, somewhere. I peed on my hand when offering a sacrifice in a plastic jar. Yuck. I frightened me that i could not aim. There was a day when I won medals for target shooting over a thousand yards. No I wet my hand because I don’t know where the jar is that it is supposedly holding.
There are so many people; one is busy having a serious stroke. The day goes by in hour-long seconds; too many of them.
Over time, I get better. I still cannot type on my tablet but I manage to read Joel’s response and an email from a fellow blogger who also had a sudden ER trip. Yes, now I will remember to read it to my darlingmost wificle.
The doctor sees me. A very decent, soft-spoken Muslim girl. She is so small that I thought she could be in primary school still. She explains to me, as politely as she can, that I am already taking meds for stroke, if it was an ischemic stroke (TIA) but it could have been a neuropathic event caused by diabetes.
That I have my faculties back, seemingly without noticeable damage, is more than just a stroke
I called it Grace.
I originally posted this on July 8, 2016 and had another mini-stroke in October of that year. Speech impaired, was taken to hospital by ambulance, walked out there a few hours later, having checked myself out and I have recovered fully by His grace since.