Information Paralysis

Ever learned so much that your head hurts? Like a student who is cramming for a test. Not paying full attention to the class subject day in and day out. It's a busy, distracting life we all lead. Suddenly the test day is tomorrow and you suspect you don't have enough information stored in your brain to pass the test.

“I can't write the test till I know everything!”, you say to yourself. The crash cramming begins. It's going to be a late night filled with all the bad things to keep you studying. Coffee, cigarettes, fast food and candy to give you that sugar buzz. By morning you know everything and it's all stored somewhere in your brain.

Now comes the test and you can't find a single answer. You know you know all the right answers but there's so much information to choice from it take too long to make a decision. You end up testing and justifying all the stuff you crammed into your head before writing your answer. Too long and you fail the test. Brain freeze!

I've talked to a lot of people who know all about their loved ones stroke. They've read books and doctors notes on the net. Talked to others and their experiences to the point that they know so much they sound like doctors. Next they justify why they or their loved ones progress is so slow or nonexistent. This thinking will get them nowhere fast. Not the route I would personally choose and I didn't.

First being able to speak like a doctor don't mean you're a doctor. You ask a doctor of an opinion and you get one, you get an opinion. It's not carve into a stone tablet. My family doctor knows a lot more that I do about medicine but he doesn't know everything. That's not his job. My doctor job is to point me in the right direction and together we working on making me better.

Second start justifying how you or your loved one can start getting better despite all the known negative information you know.

Third, use HOPE. How One Progresses Eventually. H.O.P.E. So if you're reading this I know you or your loved one is getting better. Infact we all use H.O.P.E. weather we know it or not. The only difference is the speed at which we use it. Negative thoughts and justifications slow things down. Positive thoughts speed them up. Guess what, you can't get a speeding ticket for speeding up the postive thoughts!

Finally, the only way to get to a happier future is to have a happier and positive day. This Day! Have a little H.O.P.E. Give it a little tune up by resting the “all consuming” doctor knowledge running around your brain and take charge of the patient side of your life. For the “Doctor Wanabees” give yourself a better bedside manner. Give your patient a full dose of H.O.P.E. This is the quickest way to unfreeze the “Information Paralysis”.

Me and My Brain

This is my brain, can you see the stroke?

For the full audio version, click the player below.

Having a stroke is like seeing a blue screen come up on your monitor saying your computer had a critical error and apologizes for having to shut down. When you reboot nothing happens!

Most home computer users haven’t the faintest idea how to fix the problem and if it continues not to turn on they take it to the shop and have an expert fix it.

If the hard disk is fried or the board is toasty you have to spend some money on fixing it or replacing it. Unfortunately you can’t do that with your brain. You’re stuck with it for the rest of your life. One per customer and please keep the line moving.

I’ve always thought a computer is patterned after a brain. Every piece of information gets stored somewhere. We have 5 senses or ways of looking at the information with links to other already known information and how it relates back so the brain is the ultimate search engine.

This revelation gives me a lot of hope. While areas of my brain no longer work many do and might contain the information I need to get mobile and talking again. In fact get it all back.

As a kid we’re told that we only use 10% of our brain. Science just doesn’t really know what the other 90% is doing. I think those percentages have changed over the years but still a lot is unknown about the workings of the brain.

Computers with bad sectors on the hard drive can in some cases be worked around. It might be slower but it’s better that nothing at all.
This it my theory I came up with in my hospital bed between therapy sessions and sleep sessions. The life I’ve known is at a full stop so I took the opportunity to let my imagination come up with alterative ways to get better.

It dawned on me words I can’t say I can think. Words I think I can’t spell. So thought, speech and spelling for one word is in different sectors in my brain. How computer like! A work around must be possible.

A runner would say this is the point where they “ Hit the Wall “. They either give up or push through to the finish line. Finishing first is not the point. The point is finishing!

So here I am at the wall. I didn’t know I’d entered a race but I’m in it just the same. Stop or Go the decision is up to me. I can’t take the computer back to the store I'll just have to work with it and fix it.

Just to make everything a little more interesting at this point I don’t know the route or where the finish line is. All I know is when my brain and I cross that finish line I will be very happy with my recovery.

I’ll keep looking for ways of doing the seemingly impossible. Do what I know I can’t and get what I supposedly can’t reach.

Reprogramming is now in session.

Stop and Smell the Roses

For the full audio version, click the player below.

In my hospital bed the view out the window was fantastic. It was February and the hospital is on the shore of Lake Ontario. Waves crash onto the beach making mountains of ice which continue to grow until the sun sets and the show I can see is over till tomorrow.

There's lots of people who don't like hospitals. I neither like or hate hospitals but I'd rather be visiting one than be a patient. This time I'm a patient so I'll just have to go with that. I could complain about the food or the paint on the walls or just complain about my situation but I don't. The one thing I noticed that makes the biggest difference to me is something that's invisible.

Which side of the glass do I want to be on?

The glass is the window I looking out of and looking out on the world. That world continues weather I'm a stroke survivor in a hospital or someone who had a stroke but didn't make it. It doesn't pass judgment. This invisible piece of glass gives no thought to which side I 'm on. It's just a portal, a viewing screen to the other side. I know which side I want to be on.

There's no doubt I need a plan, a goal, a way to judge my recovery but all I can think of is spring. The world renews itself. The air smells fresher. The soul feels the new possibilities. It's all very poetic but what it comes down to this, I want to be on the other side of that glass. I know it's there or I'd be very cold up here on the 6 floor of the hospital. It seems to be the only barrier between being a patient or a visitor.

On the other side of that glass is my life. Freedom to do what I want. So what did I want to do? Everything had changed in a split second and so did I. Looking out that window was different. Now I not only saw the waves I felt them crash onto the icy shore. This realization had me thinking. What else changed?

Getting better was a must. I want to feel the warm spring breeze on my skin and the warmth of the sun on my face. Hear the birds chirping in the trees and smell the grass as it grows again. Spring is just a few month away. There's something more to all of this that I must have and won't give up.

What I won't give up is that “New” must have. Time. Time to realize that I'm still here. Appreciate that I still have a life to live. Feeling that I'm apart of all this and that it's time to stop and smell the roses.

The only way to do this is to get better and be on the other side of the glass. We all have to choose which side of the glass we want to be on.

Miracle Work

I just received an E Mail from Rhonda in the state of Washington. Her father has had a stroke and wondered if there was any hope for him? The doctors report was gloomy and filled with reality. It's all a part of the job to inform the family of the situation. What the family or Rhonda does with that information is entirely different.

Now the doctor indicated there was Little Hope, not No Hope. This caught my attention immediately. Some peoples reaction would be to assume the worst. It's easier to give up and call it a day. As you know that's just not me or I suspect Rhonda because she went looking for answers on the net and wrote to me.

If a door is closed and locked but I can see light around the edges coming from the other side there's a Little Hope not No Hope. Notice how I put an “a” in front of the “Little” and used it as a positive statement. All I need is a “Little Hope” keep the “No's” to yourself. My friend was told by the doctor I wouldn't live overnight. I had the rest of the night to change that outcome. Must have worked, I'm still here!

So what's the chance of recovery? Is there a possibility of a Miracle happening? Let's look at that. The way I look at things you're either recovering or you're passed away. Since you're not passed away you're definitely recovering. There's some good news! With this in mind what are you willing to do to recover? This is mainly up to the survivor to decide.

One little step at a time. Not the Miracle of suddenly being “back to normal” in the blink of an eye. We all hope for that but it mainly comes one little step at a time. Survivors need to realize this and plan in their minds what they'd like to work on today. An example would be talking. So you can't talk, can you slur? Can't slur? Can you make a single sound? What does it sound like in your mind? Does it sound like the beginning of a word you remember? How many different types of sounds can you make? So practice them because they're the beginnings of speech.

For the family caregiver you must be encouraging to the survivor. Tell them what a good job they're doing with each new thing they do. They're starting from scratch so everything is new again. Make sure you help them and don't do things for them that they could do themselves. You want them to keep trying not giving up. You don't want them to let those around them do everything for them.

You're both at the beginning. If you've asked the question, “do you want to get better?” and he nods yes or you can tell by the look in his eyes, the journey has begun. Miracles start with thoughts of hope and Work is what you both put into it. That's why it's called Miracle Work!

Do You Have A Permit?

Each and everyone of us has at their disposal the worlds highest tech super computer. It doesn't come with instructions or a help line. You don't have to save up for it or make 24 easy payments, it's just yours. It's so fast that you already know what I'm talking about, it's Your Brain. I know what your saying to yourself, I knew that!

It's multi tasking, multi dimensional and multi hard to figure out when something goes wrong with it.Having a stroke or brain injury can be devastating. Some systems no longer work or if they do, not properly. Doctors announce that you've had a stroke and then determine if your worth giving rehab to.

Strangers are going to determine my fate. Ya Right!

I've always felt that the brain is just like a home computer. You put data into it to get data out of it. It's storage system is what I'm most interested in. The data you feed into it isn't held in one place. No it's spread throughout the hard drive to be used for more than just one purpose. It links seemingly unrelated info together so they can run picture files and text files together. Wow. Even better it duplicates this info and stores it in another place. Just try erasing a file from your computer. It tells you it's been erased but it's not. Just ask the police.

Time to rewire my Super Computer ( Brain ). The information I'm looking for is there. I can hear words in my head but can't speak them verbally. The thoughts of those words are intact, the ability to say them is not. So my quest is to find the duplicates stored on either side of my brain.

Interestingly enough, a few years after I found the missing files I read a medical journal that told of a discovery of how babies are born ambidextrous. Their neither left or right handed. There is no dominate side to their brain. Both sides are duplicates of the other. It's through time and experience they learn to be one sided.

The dominate side takes control and other side starts to shrink for lack of use. There's not much going on in those sections so the lights are turned out. Their not gone just in mothballs perhaps for later emergency use. I suspected this and I'm glad doctors now confirm my theory. Whatever!

Off came the salesperson hat and on when the electrical engineer/technician hard hat. We have some rewiring to do. Waiting around takes time which I knew I didn't have. Just like when they called for an ambulance everyone knew time was of the essence. The same with getting better the more I put into it and the sooner I worked on Me the sooner I would be back doing the things I love to do. The thought of not getting it all back never crossed my mind.

I'll use the hospital, the doctors and the therapists to my best advantage. I'm not going to wait for a permit! In the words of an old schlocky movie, “ Permits, we don't need no stinking Permits!”

Move It Or Lose It

I have a pain going down my arm. A pain going down my leg. A pain behind my shoulder blade. Welcome to the wonderful world of stroke after effects. My blog and web site tell me how people came across my sites. Most are searches for answers to the above statements along with hundreds of time based questions.

How long will my recovery take? Does the tingling in my face, hand or foot go away? The list goes on and on but I can't answer all of them in one sitting at the keyboard so I'll start with pain. There is nothing more debilitating than a constant ache.

This pain was deep inside of my muscle. I would rub my shoulder, arm, leg and the bottom of my foot as I tried to rub the pain away. It wouldn't go away. Pills wouldn't chase it away. Tried everything from aspirin to morphine. Nothing.

For the longest time I called it Phantom Pain, it's there but it isn't. If pills couldn't touch it then it's an imaginary pain. I'm good at thinking past my pain but as time went by it was getting worse. Sitting still would ease some of it sometimes. Other times it hit me like a sneak attack. Just sitting around minding my own business and the Phantom Pain Returns ( Imagine a sharp musical stab on an organ playing in the background ).

Sharp pain is not that unusual for stroke survivors, the music is optional. My dad wanted a wheelchair so he could get around when he went shopping with mom. He walked with a cane and a brace on his ankle so what does he need a wheelchair for? You can be in pain walking or wheeling about, it make no difference.

She was on the verge of getting dad what he wanted till she met a man at the mall whos father was in the same situation as dad. This mans father had walked with a cane and brace right up till the family bought the wheelchair. He told mom it was the last time his father walked. Don't get him one unless he really can't walk was his advise. She took that advise and dad continued to walk and walk better for years to come.

It occurred to me if I was going to beat this pain I'd have to do it on two fronts, psychologically and physically. First part was attitude. Have a good one. If it aches it works! Better than it not working at all. Second part, lets get physical. The one thing I was missing since the end of my therapy was my therapy. That was simple.

Dads greatest change for the better was when he got into a routine of daily exercise. I did the same laying down on the floor and streaching my muscles back and forth. Tense them and relax them over and over. It didn't take long and quickly I was getting the benefit of less ache and more mobility.I didn't lose it because I learned to move it!

There's Something Wrong With Jim

I've heard that before. My usual reply is that I'm left handed. Which I think is OK, I've been that way all my life. If someone tells me I'm a Southpaw then I remind them that I'm one of the few that's thinking out of my right side of my brain. Gotcha!

This changed the moment I had my stroke. It only took a second. One moment the smiling, laughing top salesperson of the store and the next I was as stiff and silent as a Garden Nome. Just staring straight ahead.

While the staff were doing all the right things for me. Calling 911, laying me down so I couldn't hurt myself and just generally doing all they could for me I was thinking how do I get out of this? My entire body was paralyzed. Left side, right side, top of my head to the tip of my toes nothing was moving. I don't think I could even blink my eyes.

What's it like? Well it's not the paralyzes you feel seconds before the big interview. The feeling you get when your spouse announces that We Need To Talk. Not even the momentary mental collapse that happens when the nice police officer asks for your drivers license and you're not sure you brought it with you. No this is different. It's more like you're mentally reaching out to hold onto your body before they steal it but you can't get a grip.

Whatever happens next you have no control over. Your mind is just floating around like the unborn baby in 2001 A Space Odyssey. Floating around completely disconnected from the rest of the world and universe. Still you know and watch everything going on around you. In a way it's fascinating.

The problem was I knew I was having a stroke. My father had one when I was 16 and it wasn't a pretty sight. Years of his depression and attempted suicide told me I was in big trouble. If I didn't change the outcome which I was witness to in my fathers stroke life was going to be unbearable.

Fortunately I'm Left Handed. As far as I was concerned that changes everything. With the world setup for right handers, lefty has to adapt. Gas pedals are for the right foot. The pens at banks are always on the right side of the teller and to tighten screws you always turn the screwdriver to the right. So I'm thinking how tough is it going to be to get the left side of my brain to work the left side of my body.

Impossible!

Good guess but you'd be wrong. In my recovery not only did I think outside the box, I threw the box away. I knew that millions of brain cells died during my stroke. I knew they controlled the left side of my body. They controlled speech. They held the mystery of the alphabet and they were gone. They don't grow back.

What's wrong with Jim? Nothing. Jim's not closed. Jim's under renovation. I've got a lot of rewiring to do.

Painting Your Life

My father, uncles and my grandfather were all house painters. I started painting professionally at the tender age of 12. Dad fired me after 4 hours on my first job because I was bothering the men. Apparently I was talking too much and the men couldn't get anything done. Little did they know I'd become a radio announcer after high school.

The next summer I was 13 and Dad hired me again. I worked for 10 cent an hour the first year and went up to 25 cent the next year. Baring 2 weeks vacation I worked all summer. Never thought of what it was like to play all summer long in my teens. I had lots of fun in the evenings because I had lots of money.

Those summers I didn't know how much I'd learned till latter in life. Values that would stay with me through good times and challenges. My teachers were my Dad's men. Each painter added something to my life like the painter who taught me how to “Cut In”. If you're saying to yourself what's “Cutting In” let me help you out.

“Cutting In”is painting all the corners and edges of the ceiling and the walls. You do this before you roll the walls with, yes a paint roller. I was taught to do it the right way. No choice in the matter because Dad told the men to treat me like any new painter. Drat I couldn't get away with anything.

The painter who taught me was Santa Claus. Really. I'm not kidding. My father was a member of the Moose Lodge, a service club. Every Christmas the whole family would go to the lodge for the children's party and of course Santa would give out presents to all the kids. Santa had a real red nose, white hair and I knew him all my life. He was a painter who's name was Ray Bennett and he taught me to “Cut In”. When you've been taught by Santa you do it the right way!

My lessons included being told not to “Dry Brush”. Get enough paint on the brush so you don't have to do it a second time. Concentrate to make the edge line straight. Finally don't stop till the room is done. If I didn't commit to doing the job right not only would I not get the work done but I would be holding up everyone else.

Are you “Dry Brushing” your life? Not fully committed to getting what you want done? Skipping steps by rolling without cutting in? Time to ask yourself, "What do you want out of your life?" You're the painter,"What do you want the room to look like?"

I had a stroke and you may have had one too. You may have had a brain injury or are just mentally feeling lost. Take some advice for Santa Claus, don't dry brush and concentrate. If you do the line will be straight and the job wouldn't have to be done again.

Paint your life so you don't paint yourself into a corner!

Who's in Charge Anyway?

The adventure begins with not feeling well. Sudden dizziness and then comes the fall or your words come out as if they'd gone through a verbal blender all mashed up and unintelligent. Not a pretty sight. It gets better when those around me become concerned and call for help. Ambulance and Emergency Medical Services arrive. Even the Police depending on the day and situation.

At the hospital a team is forming, waiting to take you in. There's doctors, nurses and lab staff. MRI department is there for me. This is a lot of people and if their not there well I'm in a lot of trouble. Imagine this is a car crash. I'm the driver and I've lost steering control and the brakes don't work. To add to it I'm headed for a wall. A nice solid immovable stone wall. The staff is there to try to stop me from hitting that wall or at least lessen the blow.

This is a “Battle Stations Moment” in the life of Me. So I again ask “Who's in charge Anyway”? Well there's so many the choose from and if any of them makes a mistake the consequences will affect me for the rest of my life if I get to have one after all is said and done.

On the positive side there's all these people with me and my problem's on their minds. On the negative side there's me and my problem. If I can't move or communicate with all these people how can I find out who's to in charge and who I can turn to?

Time to turn to “Stroke Logic”. Communication lines are down between myself and the rest of the world. Power lines are down too because all sorts of things aren't working. My entire left side of my body which includes one side of my tongue. Can't talk so I can't converse. I'm on my own like a person lost in the woods. Time to turn to the only one I can chat with and yes it's me!

Logically I'm in charge. Logically I need to realize my resources are the people around me and use them to best advantage which is what they'd like me to do anyway. It's easy to just give up and let the people around me be in charge but it won't get me to where I want to be. This survivor wants to be better, a lot better.

I have all the raw material with these people so what is left is “The Plan”. Without a plan I wouldn't know how to gauge my progress. A plan required a beginning, a middle and and end just like a story. Knowing you're at the beginning I can then plan the middle. The middle is all the steps I have to take to approach the end.

In the end my recovery will be what I want it to be and in a way I want it to happen. The best part is my recovery was what I wanted it to be and in a way I wanted it to happen. Bonus round is that I'm still in charge!

I Felt the Lightning

Looking for answers can be as frustrating as the problem you're trying to solve. Getting a firm answer from a medical professional is often impossible because there are more theories than answers for getting better. It's not their fault, there is no one at fault.

Books are a great resource but you will have to read a lot and questions are impatient. Then there's the the Net. Word your question the wrong way with a search engine and the net becomes the World Wide Blackhole! Your brain looks at 128,240,983 words that don't answer any of your questions. Take a rest.

I learned a long time ago to stop searching for the answers in the bathroom, the bedroom, the porch and the garage when I'm standing in the living room. Some answers are closer to you than you think. Sometimes they're simple not complex.

Tom wrote me that he was inspired by my story of recovery. He had an operation that unfortunately caused a stroke. The stroke was a fair price to pay because the operation saved his life. Now he wants the rest of his life back. I'm a big fan of that!

When he was not doing his day job he was playing guitar as part of a group in NYC. Tom wants that part of his life back A.S.A.P. It's hard to play the guitar one handed. So the question was when was feeling making a return engagement to his arm.

I used what I call my Stroke Logic to my own problem with his. In my recovery I exercised all the muscles beside the affected area. My arm wasn't working but my shoulder was so I worked all the muscle right next to the arm. My hope was I'd be sending a signal to the affected limb. At some point it would get the signal and start to move too.

Of course it would be easier to just think that guitar playing is a thing of the past. For me that would be ok because I don't play the guitar. Tom on the other hand ( forgive pun ) played the guitar and I'd really like to hear him play. Stroke Logic tells me to exercise the shoulder to send signals to the hand. That was my advise to Tom.

The next time I heard from Tom he told me he'd been doing the shoulder exercises and guess what, he'd Felt the Lightning! It went shooting down his arm. I can just imaging the smile that burst out on his face the first time it happened. I know the feeling and it's worth the price of admission. It's the greatest feeling on earth!

You Should Write a Book

Always thank those responsible. My thanks to all those who've read my 9 Lives Blog and may I say also there's been hundreds of you. Over 900 and still counting from around the world. I invested nothing in advertising my blog but the major search engines found me anyway.

In the last 6 years people I've met have heard my Stroke Story and with enthusiasm told me to write a book. So of course I didn't but I did write a blog. It seemed to be the easiest way to test the waters and see if I could actually write a story and have it make sense. Beyond that would anyone read it? Apparently you do!

The point of my blog was never to tell a gut wrenching story so you'd know what I when through but how I overcame challenges to get healthy again. The story passes on to the reader important knowledge that stroke survivors and their caregivers can use and modify to help themselves.

People have written me to tell me how much they've enjoy my blog and how it's helped. Questions have been asked and I've tried my best to answer. I'm not a doctor or a therapist but I'm a expert Stroke Survivor which there's no university course for that I'm aware of.

To help even more people it looks like I'm finally going to have to spend some money. Hopefully by this summer my blog now turned into a book will be on the market. In the meantime I'm taking most of the story down off the blogsite.

Any of you with questions please write me. I'll do my best to answer as quickly as possible. I will let everyone know when they can get a copy of the book.

Again Thanks

Jim Pettitt

I had a Stroke

Bad Day at the Office

February 10th, 2001 just before 8:30am I put his last cigarette out. Finished my donut and with coffee in hand walked across the street to work. As I removed my winter coat I felt "funny" so I sat down at the receptionist desk.

Members of the staff were just saying hello when I became a statue. Frozen, no muscle would move. Eyes wouldn't move or blink. Thoughts raced through I head. There was no pain.

The staff called 9-1-1 and they took me to the local hospital where test results came back to confirm what I already knew. I'd had a stroke at the age of 46, just like my fathers at 47.

The clot-busting drug TPa was given within the 3-hour time limit allowed. Not long after that I was sitting up talking with family and friends. A personal disaster was averted.

A few hours later I had my 2nd stroke. This time it was in slow motion.

Minute by minute feelings and abilities were draining away. Speech came to a halt. A paralysis down the left side was setting in. Communication was down to printing with a pencil in my right hand. I’m left-handed.

Sometime during that night, as the last of my communications skills drained away, I scrawled one word. It was tiny, shaky printing that my wife discovered in the morning.

The last four letters I'd recognize for quite some time were " Help". Over the next 3 days the depression was overwhelming.

Usually the thought would be to ask "Why Me?" I never asked that question. I knew what it was and why I got it.

Strokes often run in families and I was just continuing the family tradition. Having been a caregiver for my father for 23 years is all I could think about.

My fear was going through the ten-year depression I watched my father have. The chance of that happening sent me into a tailspin. Life was over or was it?

Ten years after his stroke' my father changed suddenly. After all that time waiting for the White Knight of good health to show up, he'd had enough.

Time to start exercising instead of cultivating bedsores by watching TV. Go for walks and meet new people to replace the friends who no longer came calling. This change put humour back in his life. He was reversing the damage caused by the stroke.

This is what I realized on the 4th day of my stroke. It saved my life and put the smile back on my face. The side of my face that still worked.



Not Dead Yet

I started my day off with a bang or should I say a stroke. It got better as the day continued as I would have another one later. Lucky me, it was like a two for one sale, buy one, get one free!

Life drained out of the left side of my body. Get Over It

There is no graduation ceremony for getting your life back. Your life is just there to do what you want with it.

I didn’t realize ..............The Book is Coming