A nurse passed a packet of information out, as he walked towards the head of the classroom. I wanted to assess the situation and see who was the ‘worst-off’ student in my first stroke survivor support group. I thought this would be an interesting mental-game given all the unique players nearby. My eyes quickly went to a lady sitting in a wheelchair singing, “I like July“ in a high monotone register. She just sang that over and over. Rumor on the floor was, after her stroke, she couldn’t speak. She could only sing. The stroke had affected her speech. Everything she wanted to communicate had to be sung. I guess she liked July and wanted to let everyone know.
I looked all around the tables at the different conditions of these strokes survivors. I mentally-categorized the minor strokes from the massive strokes. One by one, I visually looked at each person and their disability. I stopped when I came to next worst victim. I felt bad for her. She couldn’t turn the pages in the packet. Poor thing. Then I realized, that person was me. I was the second worst-off patient in that group. The second. Beat only by woman who could sing ‘I like July’ repetitively. At that time, my husband had to keep telling me that I had had a massive stroke because I would forget. I just wanted to tell my mother this shocking news. This was definitely an interesting piece of information to relate home. The problem was, I had forgotten she already knew. The massive stroke occurred weeks ago. That was after my scheduled surgery, but before my medically induced coma, before a bunch of machines and feeding tube kept me alive, before hydrocephalus, or before being unresponsive to stimulus around me for a week or two. I don’t know, I don’t remember. I was told, but still I don’t remember. My memory has some issues after the stroke.
Chances are, if you’re here, things have not gone the way you have planned. You may have woken up paralyzed from a stroke, slowed down by a heart attack, lost a limb, tethered to an oxygen machine, or are now dependent on a medical community that you knew very little about before. Major medical traumas happen. Unfortunately, you or someone you know has experienced one. There’s a silver lining to this news and that is…there are others like you. Others have come before you and experienced this feeling from going ordinary to ‘disabled’.
Your life has transformed in a moment. You went from being an average healthy, spoiled American to a person with a ‘disability’. This disability might be something that’s noticeable right away or maybe it’s hidden to the naked eye. Like I said – the good news is it’s been faced before and others like you exist. For years, I didn’t think it happened to anyone except me. I want to make sure you know you’re not alone. This is the most important piece of all. You may feel alone, but that is just a feeling. Feelings are not the truth. One out of seven people are handicapped in someway.
In this day and age, we are accustomed to getting what we want and instantly with a click. When we have a disability, things change. We start having to accept things that are given to us. It starts with time and attention. We become accustomed to taking what we are given because most of us don’t want to put others at an inconvenience. Maybe you’ve lost a little bit of your independence, this is where the slippery slope begins. After all, beggars can’t be choosers and that’s what being disabled often feels like.
Inky Johnson spent his entire youth and teen years training for football. He found himself in line for the NFL draft in college football. He was 10 college games away from the NFL draft when this Tennessee senior made a tackle that tore an artery and permanently paralyzed his arm. At first, he thought it was just an ordinary tackle with a torn muscle. But he found out at the hospital, it was a life or death situation. Surgery was required to save his life. In the process, he would lose the use of his arm, and football would NOT be in the cards again for him. Inky stood by as he watched the death of his life-long dreams.
Maybe you’re like Inky. Maybe there was something just down the road for you when this disability showed up in your life. I know I was blindsided by mine. The quandary is the same for all of us. What are we going to do with the new information? New disease? New disability? New prognosis? The ‘new’ you?
You are not the only one. There are many individuals like you out there. It is our responsibility to find out how to use what happened to us for the greatest good of all. I have a card taped to my mirror that I see every morning when I get up to brush my teeth. It says, ‘Instead of praying for an outcome, I pray for the highest good for all.’ (It’s a card from The Universe has Your Back pack by Gabby Bernstein.). Sometimes, that outcome might not be answered in the way we imagined it. The prayer is answered, but for the highest good for all around us.
Inky Johnson? Inky went on to do many great things. His life definitely went in a different direction, probably nothing that he could have imagined. Inky let go of his football dream and he let God drive. That took him in a whole new direction when he embraced his medical trauma. Inky became a very successful inspirational speaker. He not only motivates people to move on to greater futures, but he is also seen rewards in his life. Instead of crowds of football enthusiasts, he now speaks to crowds wanting inspiration. He saw his father to Christianity, as well as his three sons. He renewed his relationship with his mother. His inspirational story can be viewed over YouTube.
I still can’t turn pages in a book or magazine. But I can write in my rigged-up way to reach other people so they don’t feel so alone. I may have been the second worst in my support group, but maybe along the way I have spread some encouragement. I know I felt so alone in my early recovery. I have prayed for the highest good of all not just myself. God has the full view of life. I only have a partial view. I trust in the prayers I have sent him.
