54. Survivors

Today is 1 year since my brain hemorrhage. To mark the anniversary, I met up with Dean, my fellow neuro rehab patient who had a stroke a few hours before me. I didn't give him a card. We met at a local café, and he walked in, using just a light weight stick. He had been 4.5km into a 5km park run when he had his stroke, so yesterday he walked the last 500m. Unlike me, he went home after he left the hospital. After being put on a long community physio waiting list, he has been seeing a private physio. My current physio had urged me not bother with community physio because of the waiting lists, and just to see a physio privately in Sheffield. Dean's story definitely proves the NHS is excellent in a crisis, but funding for neuro follow-up is sadly lacking.

Yesterday, we dropped Joanna off at Royal Holloway university, where she will study drama and creative writing. Ask her about it, I think she is settling in okay! My dad managed to pack the wheelchair in the car, along with her stuff, so that all 4 of us could drive down with her. She and mum can't have flashbacks of their last fateful drive down if I'm there in the car with them, can they? Taking full advantage of the blue badge parking I brought, we were able to park directly in front of the halls of residence. I think Joanna was ready to leave home, though this year has certainly brought us all closer.

On Friday, my friend Anna came to my centre to learn some physio exercises she can do with me. (Anna who I'll be living with/will be my boss from Tuesday.) She helped me walk, and could see an improvement even from when she walked with me 2 weeks ago. She's all ready got the idea: "Chin up! Eyes forward!" I muttered my mantra of: 'Shoulder. Hip. Knee. Shoulder. Hip. Knee.' Afterwards, Anna flew off and met Joanna at Leicester's Fridays for Future youth climate change strike. I really should have got my act together and organised going. I wish I'd been there.

On Thursday, I went with Becca and some of the other staff for a leaving meal. I reflected how it's no one's idea of fun living in a care home, but it's been loads better than waiting around at home for a community physio. I've met so many great people, and have been so privileged to have access to a physio gym, and physio! I know I've felt like I was hanging around a lot of the time, but that's everyone's experience of stroke. Here, I have felt a lot of the staff are parent-worthy protective over me, but I feel like that is partly my age, and partly the clingy system. Shows they care! If the therapists had their way, I'd be staying another year.

Earlier in the week, I had some final visits from some friends, and one asked, "what does it feel like to learn how to walk?" My one word answer was 'tactile'. When you start out, it is very hands on, (and very noisy on my part). Then, as you get better, you do more stuff on your own. Until finally, I'll just be left with some excercises, and it will be all up to me. Kind of like the school system, through to university. I always said to my friends when we were doing our exams at school, 'what really matters is your attitude, because if you're thrown into a random social situation, how you cope depends on how you treat people. No will ask you your grades'. How right I was. Better keep remembering that for university.

Made it this far!