I realized this morning, that some of you may want to know the details about my stroke. I promise you, I shall not become too graphic in this post. However, for those of you that are especially Clairsentient, you may want to shield yourself, just in case you do not want to Sense something that you would rather not Sense. This recommendation goes for those of you that are Clairvoyant.
On the afternoon of Tuesday, August 28, 2012, I was on my way to the home of the acting chairman of the Lutheran Church for which I AM a freelance bookkeeper. I was walking and I had just crossed the street to the other side of 22nd Street and Kennedy Blvd., in North Bergen, New Jersey when I felt as though I had been dragged into someone else’s timeline. I really thought I was now in a bad Doctor Who episode. I felt a popping sound in my inner right ear. The EMTs felt this was a telling symptom.
Well, I kept walking, but after walking about two blocks, I felt that I was losing my balance. I found a big tree and tried to regain my balance by leaning against it. However, I was on my way to her home (she prefers the term “acting chairman.” So, I shall not argue with her).
A passerby called an ambulance and then someone who lives on Kennedy Blvd. brought a chair for me to sit on, which I did. I scraped my left knee because I lost my balance, but no, I did not fall. I was doing my best to regain my balance, and I was actually kneeling on the pavement to do so. I was unsuccessful, but my left knee looks like hell and the hydrogen peroxide stings like a you know what!
It was confirmed that I had a stroke. My speech was slurred, and when I was asked if I had any alcohol that day, I was of course, offended. I know the EMTs were doing their jobs, but remember, my mother is an alcoholic, so it is easy to upset me when someone insinuates that I AM a drunk or that I AM intoxicated.
After I arrived in the hospital, it was recommended I receive a very powerful medicine. In fact, I needed to sign a release form before I could receive this very powerful medicine. No, I do not recall the name of it, but I remembered hearing the term TPA, if that helps any of you medical folks out there.
I was in the hospital from that day–Tuesday, August 28, 2012 until last Friday, September 7, 2012. And I felt like I was being trained to be a circus bear from the second day. “Squeeze my fingers.” “Don’t let me push down your legs (or arms).” Oh, my Goddess! I think it is a Miracle that I AM not currently a circus bear.