10 years

Today, it has been exactly ten years since my stroke (and a couple of years since i've taken the time to write my thoughts and feelings like this in a public forum). 

I feel so very lucky to be here ten years later, with almost non-existent deficits from my stroke. 

When I look back on that time, my memory is very foggy. I only remember bits and pieces from that day, because there are whole chunks of time completely missing from my memories. I know for a fact the memories are so much more difficult for my friends and family. I didn't have the brain capacity at the time to truly understand what was going on... they thought they were losing a daughter, sister, friend...

It's easy for me to talk about, because while it happened to me, I don't have the trauma associated with a lot of the memories. My friends and have family have the memories and the fear and the nightmares that occurred during those following weeks. 

I still remember how everything looked after. I remember leaving Nashville after my stay in Vanderbilt, a city I had visited too many times to count. I knew I was in Nashville, but I didn't recognize anything. 

One of my favorite memories was after we got home, I went grocery shopping with mom. I was very weak, so she ended up pushing me in a wheel chair and I thought it was the funnest thing. We were at a Walmart, one that I had been to thousands of times, and it didn't look familiar. I remember asking mom many months later if that was a different Walmart, and she said no... it was the same one we always go to. My brain just didn't recognize it. 

My family probably thought I would never be the same. I had aphasia and a very difficult time expressing myself. I was obnoxiously loud and unaware of it. I didn't care about hygiene and thought I was fabulous unshaven and unwashed. I was doing 6 hours of therapy a week (speech, physical, and occupational). 

I returned to Vanderbilt often for visits with my various doctors. I remember the fist time, many weeks after my stroke, that Nashville actually began to look familiar. While it was a rough beginning, my brain started to recover and I started to become me again. 

I often feel a form of survivors guilt when I think of my recovery. I was once involved in a stroke survivor facebook group, and left, because I felt like I didn't qualify since I recovered so well. I recently watched a wonderful message from Katherine Wolf (a Christian stroke survivor, highly recommend checking her out), and my heart just hurt. I mean she's alive, but her deficits are so much more prominent that my own. 

And this often made me feel as if I couldn't be sad or frustrated with me own deficits and hard times. I felt like I couldn't be sad when my hair fell out, because at least I was alive. I couldn't be frustrated when I couldn't spell as well as I once did, because at least I could walk and communicate. 

I often question why? Why did I survive when so many don't? Why am I able to walk, and talk, and run when so many can't? 

So much has changed in ten years. I met and married a wonderful man. We joined a fabulous church where I now work. We added a spunky little boy to make us a family of 4. 

I know I'm still here, because God still has a plan for me.  And if I'm honest, I don't believe I've always been the best steward of this gift of life I've been given. I vow to make the next ten years count. To honor the time I've been given to make a greater impact for the Kingdom of God. 

You too, have a God given plan for your life. I pray that your are inspired to make your limited time on earth count. 

Thank you Lord for this life! Thank you for your second chances. Give me the boldness to share your truth and love with those in my life. Help me to accomplish the dreams you've placed in my heart. I love you Lord!