Was it a stroke of luck?“You’re lucky.” It’s a phrase I’ve heard often since my stroke—lucky to have my sight, lucky to have avoided more severe deficits, and lucky to be here.
I don’t feel lucky about what happened. But I do feel grounded in gratitude for the path of healing I’m on, for the people walking beside me, and for the ways this experience continues to shape how I see myself and the world. This blog is where I make sense of that journey in real time—through story, reflection, and the quiet work of rebuilding. |
Some people give me a funny look if I say, "Happy New Year!" this late in the month. But I’m firm in my belief that ifI haven’t seen you yet, I can wish you well anytime in January when our paths first cross. Our cards are just landing, and so far, no sassy replies (yet). I almost skipped sending cards this year because life got a little hectic, but I didn’t want to let the circumstances stop a 24-year tradition. If I ever decide not to send cards, it’ll be a conscious choice. Seriously though—we may be close, the kiddo will be 25 this year. Time flies!
The original title of this post was: "Where the frick have I been the last six months?!" I’ve been updating my website this weekend, and as I reluctantly dove into the blog section, I was surprised to realize it’s been over six months since I last posted. At first, I felt the need to explain myself, but then I remembered: who’s really reading this anyway? I’ve been busy, distracted, hibernating, working on great things, working on nothing, doing a whole lot of stuff, and a whole lot of nothing. Most importantly, I’ve been healing and living, and honestly, I owe no one an explanation. So, with all that said, I wish you all a very happy and healthy 2025!
Why it Matters
It had been a little over 7 months since my stroke. This was the first time I was being called on to really trust my body to coordinate in a dynamic way. I needed to leave the ground with symmetry, keep track of myself in space, then ‘stick the landing’ while maintaining my balance and stopping my momentum. I cried tears of joy afterwards. It may seem simple, especially since research says by 24 months, 50% of children can jump with both feet off the ground. I borrowed this from the same source: Jumping helps to develop leg strength and balance. It requires coordination of upper and lower extremity movements... Jumping is a building block for more complex movements, specialized skills, and general physical activity. What Happened March 7, 2021
Pretty straightforward I baked a birthday cake for my mom. If you unpack it and agree baking is a science, this was not easy. Cooking and baking are an amazing combo of PT, OT, and cognitive. You need to be in your body, coordinate your hands to do the work. You need to be organized, follow directions you need to read you need to work in a sequence. It's difficult, these were all skills I was working on in therapy. Why it Matters This was was the first time I did something for someone else since having the stroke. Stylistic is a term I learned in cognitive remediation that's to say is this something I would've done previously. In this case baking a cake for my mom would absolutely be something that I would normally do. It was a whisper of me and a glimmer of my new self’s capacity. I was asked this recently after posting this piece of art. It made me laugh, out loud. You may not know this, I graduated from Massachusetts College of Art in Boston with a BFA in Art History. I was originally accepted as a metalsmith/ jeweler. I also worked in the foundry welding, casting, and forging. I mostly worked in 3-D and briefly changed my major to sculpture to go big. Eventually, I declared my major as Art History to allow me to experience all different studio art classes - ceramics, glass blowing, photography.
really struggled to connect with creativity ever since the stroke in August 2020. The words were not there and ideas were much harder to gather. I never painted or created 2-D work until the concussion in May 2023. Without screens or devices for 2 months, i just hung out with myself on the porch, enjoying the weather and tooling around with watercolor markers. Then in August at the LYB retreat I never left my bunk without water, markers, and my concussion sketchbook.
I guess that's when the creativity started to leak out again. It took a stroke and concussion for me to see myself as an artist. Let’s just say the universe refocused and slowed me down.  Self-talk is the internal dialogue we have with ourselves. It’s normal to engage in negative self-talk because the brain is wired to pay more attention to negative rather than positive information, which is heightened after a brain injury. Addressing Automatic Negative Thoughts (ANTS) through positive thinking/self-talk is important to interrupt self-limiting thoughts that undermine our ability to heal and thrive. It's not about ‘looking on the bright side’ or convincing ourselves everything is okay. It’s a tool for showing ourselves some self-compassion.
Q: What’s one positive outcome of your brain injury that you maybe didn’t expect? It may seem odd but I actually believe there are a number of positive outcomes. First and foremost, I have never been as tuned in to myself as I am today. I have a heightened awareness of my body, how it functions, and how to most positively engage myself. I've learned a great deal on the importance of self-care and how to be okay with making my health (physical and mental) a priority. I've developed a more steady stream of self-kindness and have been able to witness my on-going resilience. |
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