Me and My Damaged Brain

My now ex-boyfriend and his dad picked me up from the hospital. I was sent home with an outpatient referral for an MRI, a 2-week-long sick note, no medication and no advice to stop any I was already taking (this becomes relevant and shocking in a later update).

I collected my bag, donned a face mask, and a nurse aided me down to the side exit I was to be collected from. They’d come in the red transit van with 3 seats up front; luckily, my boyfriend shuffled over and gave me the window seat, as this was about to be the drive home from hell. The fluid in my spine was still yet to replenish itself, and I felt horrific. I wound the window down as the nausea was unreal; even once we hit the M1, I had to keep the window down. It is so hard to explain how it feels to not have enough fluid protecting your spine.

We arrived home, and I was helped up into bed; a sick bowl was fetched for me, and I asked to be left alone. No pain relief would aid the pounding in my head as the stroke finished off ravaging my brain. It dulled some of the pain in my spine, but if I so much as sat up, the room spun, and I reached for the sick bowl. Dinner was brought to me in bed that night. I had to scrape the food from the plate on the bedside table into my mouth as I slightly lifted my head. Little did I know it would be 4 days before I could eat at the dinner table again.

Going to the toilet was a test of wills. Just crawling across the landing exhausted me, and in the first few days I spent my time recovering before braving the trip again. Brushing my teeth was another task I had to work around; I’d lie on the bathroom floor and only rise to spit, rinse and leave the bathroom. I cried so many times during these first few days, my body no longer felt like my own. I could not eat, shower, put on clean clothes or even brush my hair without being in agony. I was also confused; the 8 hours it took to replenish my spinal fluid now became days. Little did I know this timeline was extended due to the stroke I did not know I’d had.

By 14th May, I’d had enough. I felt disgusting and had not showered since going to the hospital on the 10th. I set myself a target: I’d crawl to the bathroom and rest, then I’d climb into the shower and rest again, then I would shower myself bit by bit, resting in between sections. I overestimated how massive this task was; I had not stood for more than a minute at most in 3 days. As I stood to wash my hair, I realised my misjudgment; I projectile-vomited down the drain. My shower then consisted of vomiting, tears and bubbles until I finally felt clean. Once I made it back to bed, my stomach ached, and I had nothing left in me.

By 18th May and the end of week 1, I was incredibly bored. There is only so much Netflix one can consume while horizontal before you feel insane. I felt well enough at this point to brave going downstairs alone. I sat on the sofa with the dog, and the change of scenery felt refreshing. Aside from coming down to eat dinner, I had spent the last 7 days in bed. Every new challenge I set myself and achieved was a relief; I was finally feeling more like myself.

As the second week of my sick note was drawing to a close, I had made massive steps. I was no longer lying down all day; I could brush my teeth standing up and had been vomit-free for a few days. My medical alert necklace had also arrived, and I now felt ready to face the world again. I had headaches that lasted whole days, my lisp had worsened, and my balance wasn’t great (and would never be), but I thought this was all due to the lumbar puncture and migraine I was told I’d had.

The end of my 2 weeks drew to a close, and I was 1 week away from my MRI scan. Little did I know that scan would shift everything. I then returned to work. I was placed on reduced duties for the first couple of days to ease me back into things. I was then just waiting as my MRI drew closer.

It feels insane to write, but 2 weeks after having my stroke, I returned to work. 2 WEEKS! There I was, none the wiser and wearing a completely useless medical alert necklace while my brain was damaged.