We take so much for granted. Since I had that stroke I learned to appreciate the opportunity to tell my family and friends how much I love them.
It was September 10th, 2010, about 2 p.m. My family knew something was wrong before I did. I stood there in the kitchen doorway with a glass in my hand. It slipped from my hand and I was unable to get my mouth to form the words. I thought I must be day dreaming. Then the room began to spin. I lost my balance and used the wall to hold myself up. Rather than regaining my steady balance I became more unstable but calm. My children asked me if I was ok. I could barely say yes.
I said I needed to wash my face and take it easy. But I could not make it to the bathroom down the hall. My wife offered me a seat but I continued to stand not realizing that I was paralyzed. A few minutes later I accepted the fact that I was in trouble and needed help.
My kids and wife rushed to my side and offered to get me an ambulance. I naturally declined. But I could not talk. I could only wave my hand. A minute longer I was asking for the ambulance once I realized that this was more than a passing thing.
Where I lived in Spain was one block away from the health clinic and the ambulance station. 5 minutes later a golf cart arrived with the ambulance driver. I climbed down the steps under my own power. Greeted the driver in Spanish and was taken up the hill a block away. My friend and wife was right there with me.
I went into the ambulance under my own power and laid on the stretcher. It was an amazing site to see what appeared to be a giant of a man laying in such a small space. My feet were almost out the door. (I am really not that tall. But compared to most Spaniards I am tall.)
Instead of speeding me off to the hospital I was interviewed by a nurse and my vital signs were taken. I can only guess that they found I had elevated blood pressure and no other outwardly symptoms. I could not speak. I was tongue tied. Then the female doctor came out from the clinic and examined me more thoroughly. I think she thought I was having a heart attack. I was injected with something and given a couple of pills.
She got the paddles out just in case and we were off in the ambulance to the ... clinic in a nearby town. My wife rode shotgun. I live in a mountain top village the road is dangerously curvey with shear drop offs along the way. We can see the North African coast from our town. Along the way my bladder let go and I needed to "void". The doctor handed me a regulation size urine flask and I was to magically use it in front of her while laying on my back going down a windy road.
Would you believe I did not get one drop of urine into that bottle? About this time I started to become motion sick. But was able to keep my lunch down. I realize then that I may be near death and that I may never see my children or family back home again. I would not say I was scared. But I was more bewildered about how I could be riding in an ambulance and basically paralyzed.
20 minutes later , approximately 45 minutes from when I first had the attack I arrived in the next town over. They don't have a hospital either. I was rushed into the clinic and met by a team of nurses who looked at me as if I were a specimen from Africa. I was not sure if they were going to help me or mug me. They attempted to block my wife at the door from coming into the examination room. Larisa is not that big. She is about 5'4'', 100 pounds. But they knew she meant business and let her in.
More questions and an examination and I was transferred to another ambulance and on my way to the big hospital in a nearby city. Only this time my wife was not allowed to go. The back story is that they had tricked my wife by telling her that transport to the hospital would be arranged for her separately. After the ambulance carrying me had left she was put outside the clinic and forced to panhandle bus fare to the hospital on her own.
Upon my arrival at the hospital I was somewhat out of it. I was wheeled into their version of intensive care, put on a blood pressure cuff, given a few injections and set up for a drip feed. No one said much to me and I was left alone with a supplemental oxygen tube near my nose. Larisa showed up fifteen minutes later as if by magic.
Her visitation lasted about ten minutes and then visiting hours were over. I was alone again. The situation was so hilarious I almost broke out laughing although I realized that most of the people were so ill and trying to get comfortable. An hour later I was wheeled to have an MRI scan of my brain. The machine was old, antiquated and falling apart. But I was put in front of 30 other people all needing a scan so I did not dare complain.
I was told later by a doctor that I had had a stroke. That they could see I had had others. That my blood pressure needed to come down. And that I would be taken to a ward as soon as my blood pressure had been lowered sufficiently.
It took about 12 hours to get the pressure lowered to the level they wanted. But I still had to wait for a bed to open up. I really hate to criticize but this was probably the filthiest hospital I had ever seen other than that time I had accompanied a friend to a hospital when I was in Africa.
The next day, I was wheeled up stairs and placed into a two man room. I was stripped, sprayed with disinfectant, catherized and placed into bed where I was expected to remain until I could be taken home. Twice a day a doctor would walk by and ask me to move my arms and legs. It felt like trying to move a stone with your mind. My speech was garbled.
My wife visited me every day and brought me healthy food from home. Later she would steal a wheelchair and take me outside to get some fresh air. We would sit there next to the smokers puffing in the fresh air while they many of whom were chemo patients got their fix.
I was in the hospital for 2 weeks. During that time they tried to convince me that I was paralyzed. I never believed them for one minute. The nurse would say, "you can not walk". I would say "yes I can and I am going to play tennis soon". They just laughed and said "sure you are". A few times I would try to get out of bed when no one was around and ended up on the hard hospital floor. The funny part was that I could not get up and had to wait there until the nurses stumbled on my sprawled body.
At one point they tried to put the rails on the bed to keep me in the bed and my wife told them to move the rails and that I would walk if I want to. Notice that they did not ask me.
Anyhow, the time came for my rehabilitation to begin. They suggested that they would roll my bed through the hospital to take me down to the rehab room. I was horrified. Imagine me in a bed being rolled down the hall, down the elevator and back. I said no way was I doing that. What were these people thinking? I am a human being not a side of beef.
One last little story. I had to have a nephrologist look at me. He could not give me a definite time of his visit. He just so happened to come while my wife and I were out getting some fresh air. Boy was he mad. I was supposed to stay in my room waiting for his majesty to arrive I guess. After that he curtailed his examination of me because of my cavalier attitude.
Two weeks to the day I was put into a taxi and sent home and owed the hospital 7000 Euros for the visit.
I am looking forward to getting to know you and reading your stories. Perhaps we can share a few health strategies including my new venture, Youngevity. Tell me your story here. If you allow me I would be happy to publish it.
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