When Mom called on the morning of September 14th, we sensed that something might be wrong.  She rarely called us out of concern that she'd be bothering us at work.  When we called her back, she was not able to communicate much, so she handed the phone to her friend, Marcella, who told us that Mom was very distressed.  Her friends rushed her to the hospital and she was admitted right away.  At first, a stroke was ruled out, leaving us confused about what was happening.  She didn't even know her name or birthday!  By the evening of the next day, her neurologist told us she had had a stroke caused by a blood clot that damaged a portion of the left hemisphere of her brain. 

The area that was damaged is responsible for language skills, and the resulting complication is known as expressive aphasia. This means Mom has had to recover her ability to speak, write and read.  She also has difficulty with anything that involves numbers, such as math, dates, even her sense of time.  Further, her comprehension wanes when people are talking fast, or too long, or changing topics quickly.  Physically, we are happy to report that she suffered no paralysis, just some minor weakness on her right side that has already returned with physical therapy.  Her eyesight, however, was damaged by the stroke, particularly her vision on the right side, but luckily, according to her latest ophthalmological exam, she has recovered all her peripheral vision.

In the days following Mom's stroke, we began to see the depth of its impact.  We began uncovering more and more things she couldn't do that we didn't notice at first.  For example, we knew that Mom had trouble finding words, but we didn't realize that she also couldn't read.  Not only could she not read (or write), but she didn't recognize words when they were shown to her.  They looked odd to her; indeed, she was overwhelmed just looking at the hospital menu.  I was also struck by the fact that she didn't recognize anything on TV, not even programs that she watched all the time.  Now it was all just one big blur.

She even had trouble seeing things that seemed obvious to the rest of us, like the big red "Call Nurse" button on her hospital bed, or the spoon to the right of her plate.  Immediately after the stroke, she couldn't seem to locate things that were right there in front of her.  This scared me  - how could we leave her alone if she couldn't even call the nurse?  The neuropsychologist at The Rusk Rehabilitation Center in New York City, Dr. Julie Kim, explained it this way: If we were looking at a bulletin board with many items pinned to it (the doctor pointed to the bulletin board over her desk by way of demonstration), our mom would only see a few of the items.  Her brain at the time could not take in all the clutter and would automatically pare down what she was able to comprehend.  Sadly, it set mom back each time she found something else she couldn't do.

In retrospect, it was a very scary time, but now we are relieved to say it is becoming a distant memory.  The truth is, you do pull through!  Its overwhleming to think about all that she lost and needed to regain in order to function on her own.  It seemed insurmountable at first, but six months later, she is so much better.  Now we're adding up all the things she can once again accomplish that she couldn't do months before.  She really doesn't need us nearly as much anymore, but Kim or I fly down once a month, to go with her to see her doctors or balance her checkbook, just helping out however we can.  Maybe the most important lesson we learned in this ordeal was the value of staying positive and reinforcing every triumph, no matter how seemingly small.  It continues to be one of our mom's keys to a successful recovery.