Tiffany Brunner

Well, 12/05/2023 marked my 1 year Stroke-anniversary… it still all seems surreal to me. I’ve been debating what I should share, if anything. So, please know I’m not sharing for attention. I’m sharing to educate others, relate to others, and to help myself process this crazy life event.

Instead of talking about the deficits I’m still working on, I want to remind myself of how far I’ve come.
During the “stroke event”, or onset of symptoms. I lost complete balance and coordination. My speech was slurred and mumbled. I was in and out of consciousness. It was hard to maintain one train of thought for very long. I couldn’t stop shaking. My husband had to pick me up off the floor and carry me to the car and into the Emergency department. He had to answer the questions and make the decisions for me.

After the clot was removed from my right basal ganglia (which is a part of your brain in the middle, closer to your brain stem). I immediately felt more aware of things around me. My speech mostly returned, and praise God I could swallow, because I wanted some coffee so bad!

Then the hard work began. I could not walk, I needed a nurse and a gait belt to get up and walk to the bathroom. I had a bed alarm, because I tried to sneak up when I had to pee really bad and couldn’t wait for a nurse. They eventually put some Depends on me. Ugh! It was mortifying. I was 34 years old needing Depends. I now know how those little old ladies felt in the nursing home, “you gotta go, when you gotta go!” I needed a shower chair and someone to help me bathe. Finally after a few days I was able to walk around the nurses station with assistance. As someone who has run a half marathon, it was a humbling experience to have people cheering you on just walking around a hallway. Then there were all the questions and memorization. It was discouraging having to think so hard about simple math, reading an analog clock, being read three random words and then having to repeat them 10 minutes later.

Trying to find who this new version of myself is after the stroke has been an all encompassing thought. I struggle with things that I never used to. I don’t feel like myself, I feel like something is missing, but I don’t know what. I’m just plain weird. I’ve read the self-help books, I’m going to therapy. I’m doing the things you’re supposed to do, but something isn’t clicking. It makes me feel lost and sad.

One thing I have learned since the stroke is:

I used to believe that being busy meant I was living a full, and purposeful life. The busier I was meant the more worthy I was. For me, this idea started in high school. I thought the more extra curriculars I did (weather it be sports, NHS, choir, drama, or a job) meant that would make me more likely to be successful. The more I did, the more I would be worthy of love. This concept can be seen in my future relationships, College, careers, and parenthood. Hindsight, I think I used all the business and craziness to hide my anxieties, and insecurities about myself.

When the stroke happened it forced me to really slow down. I had to depend on others in order to care for myself and my family. The change happened in a single instance. In a single heartbeat I changed. I was getting ready for my morning exercise routine, then bang I was on the bathroom floor, incapacitated. I was on the floor thinking about the life behind me and what would be left of me when I was gone. It was scary, scary to think that I hadn’t been truly present for most of my life. I was just getting by from one activity to the next, hoping that one day all my activities, and all the “things” I had to do made me a person worthy of love.

So, here I am still recovering, and life is going back to a semblance of the old normal, busy, chaotic routine. I’m anxious because I can’t keep up anymore. I mentally and physically cannot do it like I used too. What does that make me? Who does that make me? And am I worthy of life and love anymore?

But, I am still here. I’m very fortunate to have a strong support system made up of family, friends, good Dr.’s, PTs, OT’s, SPT’s, and counselors. I love you all!

If there’s only one thing you take from this it’s: Don’t quit. As long as you draw breathe, you have the choice to make a better life for yourself. It could always be worse, and it will likely get worse before it gets better. It won’t be easy, and God will it hurt. But keep fighting warriors!! No one leaves this earth unscathed, so embrace the battle scars.