It Was August 17, 2007 **

** I am repeating this post on the anniversary of mr. kenju's stroke, in the hopes that it will convince someone to go to a doctor and avoid having to go through what we did.

*****

I was furious. Fearful. Uncertain. Sad. Enraged. Worried. Stressed beyond belief. Emotions warred within me for top billing; it is a miracle I didn't collapse. Mr. kenju had suffered a stroke and he was in denial. He thought he had an inner ear infection, and it was making him dizzy. That was ludicrous.

On the Friday it happened, he went to a movie matinee with a friend. It was a fast-paced film, one with strobe-like action that could make anyone's head spin with a constant barrage of images in rapid-fire progression. He noticed the dizziness upon leaving the theater, but he drove home and went to bed. I was working, doing flowers for a big wedding, and I didn't get home until after 7pm. Finding him in the bed then was a bit odd, but I accepted his excuse - not feeling well. The following morning, as I left for work, he was still in bed. And when I returned that evening, he was there again. He didn't tell me about falling, or how he was having trouble moving or using his right leg. He didn't walk where I could see what was happening. He was hiding it from me.

On Sunday morning, when he didn't get ready to go to Mass, I knew something must be drastically wrong. Mr. kenju did not miss Mass except for very good reasons. I questioned him, but I got very little response about what was really happening to him. Over the next few days, I could do nothing but watch as his condition went downhill at a rapid pace. His arm and hand weren't working well; his attempt to pick up a piece of paper from a table ended with him sliding the paper to the edge so he could get a grip on it. I knew then for certain he'd had a stroke. About that time his speech was showing signs. Slurring nearly every word, he yelled at me when I couldn't understand - and blamed it on my growing deafness.

Every time I suggested calling a doctor or taking him to the ER, he got madder by the minute. His face turned red and he seemed to puff up with anger, and at the time I said it looked like steam was exploding from his ears. I knew that the more uncontrolled he was, the more chance there would be for another stroke, a massive one from which he might never recover. In spite of my raging emotions, I tried very hard to keep him as calm as possible. It was the most difficult thing I've ever done, and I wasn't very successful.

On Monday, he began to talk about going to the hospital, only after he had written the checks due at the end of the month and set our affairs in order. I begged him to go right then, saying that bills could wait; his health was more important. It only made him madder. Finally, on Wednesday, he packed a small bag and I took him to the closest hospital. As soon as they had gathered some information, the testing started. His BP was 245/117, and the ER doc who checked us in said he had never seen anyone with pressure that high.

In the first paragraph, I used the words furious and enraged. Do you know why? Because this was preventable. Mr. kenju had only been to a few doctors over the course of the last 30 years. Dentist, opthalmologist, dermatologist - fine. Internist? No. GP? No. His blood pressure, which we had known was elevated for at least 20 years, was untreated. It is entirely probable that had he been under a doctor's care for all that time, and on medication, he would never have had a stroke - or it would have been a much milder one. Knowing this made me so mad I could have screamed. How dare he put us in this position?! I believe one has a duty to keep his or her health at close to peak, insofar as it is attainable through one's own choices.

He was admitted to the hospital, where he stayed for a total of three weeks (one in the main hospital and two in the rehabilitation section). The doctors had a hard time getting his blood pressure stable. It would seem to level off in a good range, and then spike upward again. That has continued over the course of the entire year, until a short time ago. His doctor has finally hit upon the right combination of medications to keep his pressure at an acceptable, lower level. We pray it stays there. He will have to remain on medications for the rest of his life. The number and type of medicines may change, but there will always be a need for them. That is another point of contention; along with proper diet and exercise, and the need for prudence and moderation in all things. Just recently a doctor told him...."If I had had a stroke like yours, and recovered as well as you have, I'd take 50 pills a day, if I had to." (and not complain, he meant)

The changes are noticeable: a cane, a "heavy" foot, halting steps. But there are other changes not immediately evident, and they are mental and emotional. Anger, impatience, intolerance, memory loss and seeing humor where none exists. It seems that whatever personality traits are most evident in a person will be magnified (for good or bad) afterward. They were most evident in the first few months, and have abated a bit recently. There is a tendency to say whatever pops into his head, no matter if it is tactful or not; he seems able to curb that in public, to some extent, but not at home.

My advice is this; do whatever you can to improve your health so that you don't put your family and loved ones in the position of having to deal with the aftermath of a stroke. It's very unpleasant, and it's expensive (even with insurance); and once you have one - you are always at risk for another.