I thought I was just tired. It was Thanksgiving. Everyone was here. My parents were visiting and it was a big thing; a lot of work. And I thought I was just tired.
Later in the afternoon, I took a walk just to get out and away and relax a little. I noticed as I walked that I was having trouble keeping my croc (shoe) on my right foot. It was especially hard keeping it on going up steps. Kept wanting to slip off. But I didn’t really think about it much beyond that. Not for one second did it occur to me that I might have had a stroke. Not for one second. I did feel a little strange. But I thought I was just tired.
That night, Thursday, I woke in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. I was pretty groggy, and felt a little weird, and I stumbled a little getting out of bed. But nothing major. Still made it to the pot as normal, so still didn’t think anything was really wrong. When I woke that next morning, Friday, I was feeling pretty rough and it was pretty obvious I was having trouble walking. My mom loaned me her walker (she doesn’t need it continually) and I was getting around most of the day with it. I could tell my right foot wasn’t working right. I couldn’t lift my big toe or make it work. Had also noticed by then that my typing/texting skills were slightly uncoordinated. Started wondering if it could be something serious, but it still didn’t really occur to me it could be a stroke. Puzzled mainly. I didn’t have any other symptoms, nor was I ever in any pain whatsoever. Stroke happened to older people, not to people my age. You know?
My parents, who love me, were doing their level best not to pressure me to go to the hospital, but it was obvious they felt I should. Jeff (my husband) was backed off and leaving the decision to me. For myself… I needed to hear from God. Maybe that seems dumb or superstitious to some, and maybe the symptoms were obvious, and maybe I should’ve gotten in there more quickly… but hearing was important to me. I wasn’t trying to be stubborn. Honest. But I couldn’t go until I knew I was supposed to go. It’s how I work and have always worked. I had to HEAR, and not just react. I was willing to go, but only if I knew it was God’s will.
I knew that if it was God’s will, then He would work out everything and it would all line out. A big part of my hesitation was because we’d just gotten in the position of being able to pay off our debt, and I didn’t want to burden us with a big hospital bill if it wasn’t necessary. I needed Him to tell me if it was necessary. Everyone assumed my hesitancy was because of my liking for herbs and natural things and not liking the medical field. That was in there, but it was only the smallest part.
I had to hear from God. I could do whatever He asked me to do, if only I knew for certain it was Him.
Later in the middle of the night, I fell. It was during a bathroom run. I hit my head (not hard) on the tub and really had a real struggle to get up. Jeff heard me, and tried to lift me, but I was dead weight cuz of the stroke by then. With a lot of effort and straining and sheer force of will and prayer (and his help) I was able to use the sink/counter to pull myself up. I knew God was making me willing and letting me know what He wanted done. So the next morning, Saturday (Nov 29th), I asked Jeff if he wanted to spend all our money and take me to the hospital. We got around and dressed and headed out.
I didn’t know it then, but it’d be 2 ½ weeks before I got to come back home.
