Me and My Damaged Brain

I turned to my boyfriend and explained that I suddenly felt really unwell and that my head was pounding. He looked at me with concern. Something wasn’t right. We tried to get me up so we could move me upstairs to bed, but my legs refused to cooperate. It was as if I had drunk an obscene amount of alcohol, and I had no coordination of my lower limbs. Between us, we half-dragged, half-carried me upstairs and got me onto the bed.

My (now ex) boyfriend’s mum came upstairs to see if I was alright and said maybe I just needed to eat something, and off she went to re-heat some leftover Thai food for me. I had then tried to explain that the pain in my head was getting worse, but the words would not come out. I could picture them and know what I wanted to say, so I tried to push them into existence, but there was a huge delay. Each word I pushed out was slurred and took an immense amount of effort to get out. That is when the boyfriend called 111.

Looking back now, it is completely idiotic that 999 was not called immediately. But after he had frantically googled what was wrong with me, it had been decided I was too young to be having a stroke. 111 spoke to him, and after trying to speak to me, they made the call to send an ambulance. They advised us they’d call when the ambulance was to be dispatched, and so the wait began.

By this point, my boyfriend’s mum had come back up with the food and offered it to me. I tried to take the spoon to eat some food, but the basic motor skill of holding the spoon felt impossible. I tried a few times before giving up and allowing the fear to settle into me. I accepted in that moment that something was wrong with my brain. I, again, tried to speak but couldn’t, the pair of them stared at me with a mixture of confusion and fear on their face as they watched me try and fail to hold a spoon.

I had lost sense of how much time had passed, and my boyfriend’s mum had suggested that he ring 111 to check how long the ambulance crew would be. He got his phone out and had 3 missed calls! He hadn’t switched his phone from silent and had missed the calls about the ambulance dispatch. I am so grateful that a few minutes later, they called again and arrived within 15 minutes.

Once the crew came up to see me in bed, they performed the usual observation checks. Then came the ECG, tapping my finger from the tip of theirs to my nose and back, and then they asked me to get up and try walking again. The finger tapping was hard but not impossible. I could walk again, but was extremely unsteady and felt dizzy as hell. By this point, it had been almost 2 hours since my stroke had started. The two paramedics discussed at length whether or not I needed to attend A&E, another thing that now seems absolutely crazy to me. But, thankfully, a call to their supervisor meant I needed to go. They explained that due to having no history of any instances like this before, I needed to be blue lighted to the hospital, so my boyfriend got to packing my bag.

Whilst I tried not to freak out and bawl like a baby, his mum suggested that I should call my Dad and explain what was happening. (Another stupid idea, I may add as I was still struggling with my speech). For some context, my dad and I were estranged; I hadn’t spoken to him in 9+ months at this point. Reluctantly, I made the call. After trying to tap at the phone with little success, the call was made for me. It was horrible, trying to push out the words ‘I think I’m having a stroke’, I cried.

The paramedics were now ready for me, as was my bag. I was then informed I would be going alone. Given the shock on our faces, they explained, due to the COVID-19 pandemic and the fact that I was not a child or vulnerable adult, I had to attend A&E on my own. The paramedics supported me into the ambulance, got me sat down, handed me a sick bowl and turned on the sirens.

So off I went to A&E on my own during the COVID-19 pandemic while I continued to have a stroke.