Strokes Of Insight

TED TALK:

Stroke Of Insight - Jill Bolte Taylor

Having a Mother Duck who is a mental health registered nurse, family and friends with mental health conditions and a keen interest in specialising with students who have special needs during my studying days at uni (including a steady uni job at a school as a students with special needs assistant) and later, in my career prior to 2012 (and now post 2012, of course), I've always been incredibly intrigued by our complex minds and the mental health of human beings (animals too!) - even when my brain was once relatively 'healthy'.  Interestingly, I had my two strokes in both the left hemisphere and the right hemisphere of the brain (left - Stroke #1; right - Stroke #2. Just being fair!), hence the differences in their effects on this Kitty (the location of damage has a direct correlation with what is affected in a stroke survivor's thinking/doing/being).

The website link at top gives an incredibly touching, detailed description of how Jill Bolte Taylor's own stroke (coincidently and conveniently - for her to know to seek help ASAP when she suffered the brain injury - a neuroscientist) happened.  Looking back, I wish I was so observant of my mental health's well-being when I had my first stroke, or at least actively wanting to know why I was having regular headaches (that were always cured with Ibuprofen - I have since discovered a highly condemned pain reliever. Please take note for your own sake. My dear docs/Registered Nurse Mother Duck now strongly advise Paracetamol and/or Aspirin use only) and more proactive in finding what the cause of my first stroke was in a more appropriate, effective and swift manner than the occasional outpatient appointments I was having in the months post Stroke #1 in 2012.  Despite suffering a stroke, the cause hadn't yet been identified so I was in the midst of having various outpatient appointments in the months I was back in London that involved a range of daunting and/or fascinating tests to understand more about my particular Special K brain. These tests included wearing a heart monitor for a week (pretty cool party trick, showing my mates that I was wearing it when out celebrating the weekend. Scare tactics that would ensure a sudden surge in my heart rate were discussed. Naturally) and then posting back to the hospital (they even supplied the pre-paid envelope. Amazing and supportive work by England's dear NHS!) and/or an MRI test to show the distinct damage (see below for a clear visual of Special K's brain damage). I'm sure an angiogram test (an 'am I peeing myself in front of all the nurses and docs?! No....Wait, am I?! No....Wait, am I?!' examination) - which is where a medical dye goes through your body's blood vessels clearly showcasing any inflamed ones on a special monitor for the wise ole docs to examine - was organised in the coming weeks/months at one of my outpatient appointments that I was in the midst of regularly attending, but I didn't get there in time!  

What St George's medical superstars deduced when they finally performed an angiogram test on this Kitty Kat in November 2012 was what they think (<<operative word) caused both my bloke-luring strokes - Vasculitis - a rare disorder I was born with that causes blood vessels and/or arteries to destroy due to inflammation in our/my little nervous system.  This disease doesn't just happen in the brain, I was just 'unfortunate' that it picked my well-oiled Kitty-Brain to attack in 2012 and that it wasn't identified during one of my various outpatient appointments in the months leading up to Stroke #2 when we were actively trying to discover the cause of Stroke #1!  You are also welcome to Google Vasculitis 'til your heart's content. Reflecting, I knew my 'headache' in July 2012 was incredibly peculiar, but I wasn't at all concerned at the time because I had regular (weekly) headaches and I thought it was a mixture of that and fatigue (let's blame the 2012 London Olympics *and its year-long lead up* for being tired - the city was electric!). As many would also presume in such a situation, I thought I just needed to have a little Kat-nap - ala La La Land - just like Taylor explains in her own recount, so that I'd be ready to party the night away with my lovely English colleagues on our last day of the school year.

That is why I wasn't as concerned as my dear workmates after Stroke #1 (perhaps because I didn't see just how unusual/unwell I looked at the time nor properly analyse the situation - which if done would have been pretty obvious I was suffering from several typical signs of a person experiencing a textbook stroke) and would have gone home to sleep it off if it weren't for my wise colleagues. I have since learned that going to sleep after experiencing a stroke is the one of the worst actions you could take - despite the desperate longing for such, someone who has suffered a stroke must avoid this and seek help/be treated immediately! Please, please, please remember this piece of wise advice (rich coming from me - your special little Dory-Kitty!) and the range of symptoms one may experience when suffering a stroke so that - in the event of a stroke - you and/or someone you know (i.e.: the bleak 1-in-6-people-will-have-a-stroke statistic is like saying every person born in say May and October will have such a brain injury) avoid unnecessary brain damage, that may even result in death due to negligence during the critical small window (we're talking a few short hours) for initial stroke treatment. I am truly fortunate (as are you to still have me!) that my ignorance (and the ignorance of others) didn't cost me my life.  

After suffering a stroke, a person loses about two million brain neurons every minute that goes by before seeking help from medical professionals - the mere fact I can score well in speech and language therapy's IQ tests (and no longer require due to such high level results/making them laugh too much when they ought to be working. Boom!), regularly teach/assist students at a supportive school I currently volunteer at and can (and will) perform all the suave dance moves to Michael Jackson's Beat It despite the vast loss of neurons from both my strokes surprises me to no end.  However, in saying that and my well-documented short term memory loss aside, I do notice a distinct change in my current abilities to be articulate, for example, where I now struggle to use more sophisticated and/or technical words when I do communicate with people, fail to recall Federer's Grand Slam titles during a very serious trivia 'game' and let's not forget - I thought Queen Elizabeth II was no longer our leader/alive! These aforementioned deficiencies can actually be quite entertaining (bed hopping *not on purpose* at hospital was also a little bit fun/humorous, as is forgetting my bank card's pin so that my 'dates' have to pay for my meals/drinks and not knowing who I'm actually dating *too many to remember, you see!* is a positive when you consider my past taste in men), but for the most part, my brain damage and its daily hurdles are utterly heartbreaking and as I become more aware of just what has happened to me at such a young age and the severity of such, as well as what I have lost in my life as a direct result of the strokes (health, career, friends and living circumstances to name but a few), I become more aware of the shocking ignorance by some people who were once very dear to me.

I wish I thought my strokes were 'so cool' like Taylor did (pictured above, holding a...hmm either a frozen cheeseburger orrrr or or maybe a brain?!) and that it was helping my professional development! Perhaps it is helping me become a better teacher - I'll get back to you.

A wonderful stroke of insight.

One of my initial thoughts, first and foremost, was concern about my class and my ability to teach, which was then followed by worry and angst about travelling around Europe in the coming weeks - after suffering both strokes! Those silly, incredibly minor issues were as big a concern as the strokes were to me at the time! Stroke #1 had 6.5 weeks of rehab (aka UK school summer holidays in 2012) and I was adamant to get back to work (which I successfully did for two months until Stroke #2 hit during a week-long school break in late October 2012).  Admittedly, I only had a few days before I was meant to be back at school when I had Stroke #2 and I couldn't even tell you if it was a week day, where and with whom I lived with (eventually found out it was in Battersea with two lovely young English gentlemen), nor who I was just talking to on the phone a minute earlier (huh?! I was on the phone?! No I wasn't! You're scaring me... = a likely Kitty response) - I was Special K! Heartbreakingly, I would cry at the mere mention of my British class and any supportive pieces from them would cause tears of a deep sadness that one only experiences when they - for example - lose an adored family member.  I cannot explain the immense depression I felt at losing my independent, satisfying & youthful life in an instant during the intended prime of my existence, but it surely tested my psyche and - perhaps more importantly - the psyches of my loved ones greatly!  

Because of my second stroke's vast brain damage, I instantly lost my ability (once regarded as a right) to be my 'normal', positive, witty, healthy 26-year-old self with a sound mind, teaching my year 4 class, being a fiercely independent Kitty, yet always surrounded by many amazing people who light my fire and absolutely thriving by my well-deserved life with them - as it should be.  Basically having an exuberant, youthful life that was constantly stimulated by regularly travelling our wonderful world, immersing myself in stimulating friendships with people from all walks of life, as well as acquiring new positive (even negative, that then turn into positive!) experiences that help shape the person I am for the better. 

This is one example of my class' well-wishes that kept my sanity and optimism whilst my life hung by a thread post Stroke 2 at St George's Hospital
November 2012

It is incredibly intriguing to hear that Dr Taylor (please note: not to be confused with the lovely Mr Taylor below) was thinking about her mental well-being as she experienced her stroke. When I had both strokes, I initially wasn't at all concerned about my mental well-being (I wish I was)! It was kind of like when you are rather under the influence - but you feel sober - yet everyone around you knows you are incredibly inebriated because of what you are doing and how you are acting and then the next day, in hindsight, you then realise you had a little too much to drink. This is why I am truly fortunate and grateful that I had such educated and aware people around me in both instances and why I am forever spreading the word about the warning signs of strokes.Time makes all the difference once a stroke has occurred where medical treatment needs to be administered swiftly (don't I know it?!) and because there are such a vast range symptoms, one needs to be aware of all.  

There are a range of stroke test guides, including this easy-to-remember FAST Test above.  Additionally, if someone seems disorientated, asks questions they normally would know the answer for (i.e.: Whose maroon pants am I wearing? Why am I at your house? Why aren't I at work right now? - real questions asked whilst suffering from the second stroke!), have difficulty poking out their tongue in a straight manner (this one is a newly acknowledged sign not influenced by Miley or Kiss) and of course, my Stroke 1 symptom of sudden onset of severe headache, they could be showing signs of TIA or stroke. Some people may even have trouble walking and/or be physically sick - this inability to simply balance and the symptoms listed are why people can assume a person experiencing a stroke is inebriated. Never assume...It makes an ass out of u...(you know where I'm going with that).

Learn stroke symptoms from the professionals - 

Stroke Symptoms

You may not see it coming from this happy shot, but this photo was taken the evening Stroke #1 hit me at just 26 years of age with some of my lovely English colleagues - we were about to go celebrate all our school year's (extra) hard work!
Twickenham U.K.
July2012

Just a few days post Stroke #1 in July 2012 - at London's Charing Cross Hospital rooftop - not a care in the world...Except you can see that I have a heart monitor on, a little laxative cocktail (delich! - to counteract the effects of all the drugs in my system) in hand, a cotton ball covering the puncture wound from all the daily invasive blood samples stolen from me, a generic hospital name tag on my wrist (with my last name spelt wrong and the incorrect d.o.b *was my forgetful brain to blame for such?!*, mind you - does that mean I didn't really have a stroke?!), smiling - even offering a thumbs up I'm in that positive a spirit - & all the while on a hospital's (not a bar like it may seem) rooftop during strict visiting hours at the start of my 6.5 week 2012 Summer Holidays. 
Being an Australian, I'm a true blue battler through and through and managed to convince the docs that I desperately needed to go on my 2012 Summer Euro Trip for several weeks after just over a week of rehabilitation from my first stroke in various hospital locations all across London and passing necessary 'life skills' tests. I reassured them that I had seeing-eye-dogs/mates and a virtual Registered Nurse Mother Duck watching my every movement, as well as the handy iPhone to take photographs of my campsite during a music festival (to assist with my spatial navigation which was like when you try to find where you put your drink down at a massive party when you dashed off to the toilet a few minutes earlier!) and friends I had accumulated during the Euro Trip (friends that my mind retained were always so chuffed to make the cut!). 

Below is Stroke #1's brain damage to the left hemisphere.  See that white 'blob' at the bottom left-hand corner?! That isn't my nasal passage; that is my brain's distinct damage to the Occipital Lobe - pretty, pretty, pre-tty impressive dead chunk right there! Amazing that my particular deficiencies can be clearly identified (by educated medical gurus) purely by looking at this damage in the image and the location of such. The brain eventually generates new neuron routes around that damaged (and also, dead) part of brain, with all the improvements happening in the first few years post acquiring brain damage. For example, I allllllmost have all my peripheral eyesight back that was initially lost post Stroke #1's brain damage and the tingling down my body's RHS (also Stroke #1 damage) is no longer as regular, nor as ticklish.

Taylor also explains that the brain's left hemisphere (where I now have significant brain damage - I also have damage in my right hemisphere - one stroke per hemisphere = fair Miss Laird!) is linear and is about the past and the future - this may explain why I shifted my priorities to that of a younger version of Kitty post Stroke #2 (I just wanted to be home and with the people I've known the longest which was not the case after the first stroke where I kept on continuing with my former life in London), whilst also being overly concerned about my future (never one to worry about such - once a Que Sera Sera kinda Kitty - but now this has been quite an interesting, unavoidable and substantial hurdle post strokes). It has caused much angst for myself and concern (even occasional anger, avoidance and confusion) from some people around me.


Unsurprisingly, I was forever in desperate need of photos of loved ones doing 'normal' activities during my 35 odd days at 'pital.  Some would send a shot of their computer screen at work (thanks for including me in your life!), others would send daily selfies (because of my paranoia about whether I was dead or alive, I requested that they send something I was not expecting, hence little Schoop's facial expression below) or if I was really lucky, shots of who they were dating at the time.  I was living vicariously through them! There were never feelings of envy or sadness when I saw such shots - I loved every single one as they made me feel alive and it made me realise just how amazing life in itself was because mine was truly lacking.  Whether it be my cute Mother Duck and my oldest brother, Daniel (aka Dan the Man - for obvious reasons) at a football game together, a selfie from a mate at boring ole work or my British roomie sending a shot of the 'ghost' (reality - SPERM. Other roomie and myself teased him with Life of Brian every sperm is sacred-esque quotes for a while there. As expected) he had painted on his face at a Halloween party, I was truly grateful for every picture sent my way and I'm still receiving such delightful and reassuring insight into the lives of loved ones all across the globe every single day as Special K. It helps keep myself sane and more importantly, offers endless entertainment. 
Hot tip for other mates of stroke survivors!

Friends would bring into hospital familiar pieces to help stimulate my brain in identifying who I was, what my life was like before the strokes and to also realise I was not in a coma (because I certainly felt like I was!).  Like this card, below, which I had created for my dear friend, Nim (born the same day as Zac Hanson - amazing!) for her birthday the previous year. What a beautiful and wise creature my little Nim Hanson is to think of this as a brain stimulus for her frightened Kitty! It surely did the trick - calmed nerves whenever Zac Hanson waltzes into my world!

When my Klubbers would leave hospital in late 2012, I'd forget that they had visited within a few seconds because of my damaged, Special K brain with its dead hippocampus, in particular.  It honestly made myself wonder why family and mates even bothered coming at all and made me so humbled that they still did considering I'd forget such a kind act! This extreme lack of memory retention is why I took photos of guests throughout their visits (a candid shot below of two of my most dear friends who were in the midst of creating a memory aide of my birthday celebrations at hospital (and the cafe`next door = party time!) with freshy taken polaroid photographs and personalised messages in a large frame to ensure I didn't think it had all been a dream - or worse - forgot the effort my beautiful + considerate friends put in at the cafe`across the road and also at the hospital's outside terrace *aka - Kitty party central!* for a birthday that was initially meant to be living the high life with the below mate, Chelsea Great and my Canadian/Dutch mates in Amsterdam).

One of my main concerns when I had my second stroke was that I didn't have my two passports.  The 'safe spot' one leaves such important pieces was not considered long-term memory worthy to my mind, so was lost when the hippocampus was killed off! I was afraid I'd be stuck in an awful compound for overstayers! It took several weeks before we eventually located them and many celebrations were had (can you imagine trying to explain my sitch to immigration officers?!). The passports are just one example of what went missing due to my memory loss. I still have belongings strewn all across London. I'm pretty certain an ex-boyfriend has my hair straightener (naturally) and another friend is looking after my entire winter wardrobe. Who knows?! Definitely not Kitty! Someone stole my marbles in October 2012 too! Large sum reward when found.

Family and friends ensured to help out wherever possible. 
 Because I thought I was in a coma, I'd regularly receive photos of everyone living life whilst I was at St George's Hospital. I lived vicariously through them so it wasnt too bad. My sister would spend all her days sending photos I was not predicting of herself and/or her puppy dog giving a lick to the camera. Friends would even send photos of their current manfriends (thanks dear mates!).  The message below is an example of one of  my most dear and supportive friends' daily message to check I had gone for a shower and successfully put on clean underwear (her proof that I had gone for a shower as I had no idea whether I had ten seconds after said shower!).  
Yet another positive to being in hospital - not only did my friends congratulate myself when I had a shower and had clean underwear on, but they also brought in an endless supply of new undies and PJs. Almost as often a gift as chocolate! 
Allllmost living the dream with such tame achievements being celebrated!

Before insightful friends gave myself literal notebooks, I wrote every single event that happened during my hospital days in my Notes App on my Iphone.  That, together with the constant phone photography, meant no one was safe - especially if they had a whinge about a mutual friend making a fool of themselves at the weekend's celebrations or when they'd offer graphic dating anecdotes.

When I woke experiencing my second stroke, I was told I lived with two English lads.  This was a surprise to me (as I had previously lived in a house full of Australians whilst in London), but during their regular visits to hospital, I slowly recalled why I lived with them - they were such sweet gentlemen! Being the only female in the house, I did enjoy their anecdotes about dating in London from an English male perspective (one was afraid I'd forget his partner's name when she was around *which would make her think there were other girls*, so in sheer desperation, he said her name repetitively to me until I remembered it by putting it into a Culture Club song. As you do).

The two lovely English gentlemen (above - dear Matt having a little Kat-nap with me at 'pital in late 2012 and below - lovely Oli brushing my hair *he really, really wanted to. It was cute*, ensuring to cover my little shaved brain biopsy spot *that I was forever paranoid about its blatant grotesque factor. Silly Kitty*) whom I lived with in ole London town were always visiting hospital - most of the time they brought a range of chocolate treats too and/or any pieces from home that I requested, as well as various tales of their lives!

Every morning at St George's Hospital, I'd wake up and read this little booklet (below) that was given as a memory prompt and reassurance measure which helped explain what happened to me in childlike language with clear visuals and diagrams. What a surreal, yet otherwise patronising and overly testing experience for an adult/teacher who is renowned for their memory and creating similar style of learning pieces with children. 

After both of my strokes, like Bolte-Taylor, I also had that feeling of saying goodbye to life.  Hospital was morbid with my extreme short term memory loss and this little booklet (above) was one of the pieces that helped keep my sanity.  It honestly felt like I was in a coma or dead.  After a few days post Stroke #2 (in November 2012), all I wanted were the people who truly mattered around and whenever I saw my friends, I was incredibly content after experiencing Nirvana when Stroke #2 happened, where I unsurprisingly thought my life was over.  Realising that better than Nirvana were in fact my super duper family, friends, colleagues and students - even the sweet hospital staff caring for me when I thought my life was about to end (all that truly mattered to me!), was such a strange, eery, yet highly comforting feeling - I know other people who have dealt with being so unwell can relate to such a strange sensation! As a result, I craved their affection every day and merely hearing their voice (with familiar catch phrases they'd typically use), reading get well cards from my students and/or receiving text messages from colleagues who would tell me that my students were talking about me (I was forever thinking that they weren't bothered that I was away), thinking of and/or hearing the distinctive and infectious laugh of dear loved ones, even the sensation of touching my dear Klubbers' skin or smelling their familiar clothes/pheromones (Kitty is such a creeeeeep!) - brought me immense comfort about my severe brain injury and its lingering, drastic effects to my being.  I recall one lovely colleague came into hospital and simply glided her fingers through my hair for the entirety, whilst I sat there in absolute delight.  Later, she told me that she does the same calming hair therapy to students who feel anxious - I do love my empathetic, wise teachers!  Being in the company of my Kitty Klubbers brought me that place beyond Nirvana and it was all that I craved in my life at that moment (that is, other than Happy Meals and my class). Weird, huh?!

It took Taylor eight years to completely recover from her single stroke and she is one strong, smart cookie - I imagine my recovery (if we can call it that) will take even longer than eight years - and in the prime of my life, what an intense (and long!) challenge that lies ahead.  In hindsight, it is absolutely bewildering that I went back to full-time work post Stroke #1 a mere 6 weeks. I'm gobsmacked at my particular attitude after Stroke #1 that was drenched with determination, perseverance, optimism and of course, ignorance. My brain (the distinct damage from Stroke #1 pictured above) was coping with the sheer fatigue and the fresh neuron routes were being generated every day I was back at school. I had a notebook to remind myself of any little jobs I needed to attend to (big jobs I remembered, but what to photocopy or who to email about a little query would be forgotten without a prompt, hence the notebook. Kind of like your old man/dad's short term memory concerns! I'm sure many can relate to such a comparison) and I compensated for my fatigue by ensuring I received plenty of rest (most of my days) as well as using various techniques and devices (how happy I am to have my strokes in the 21st century) to help with the newfound hurdles. It was slightly challenging, but I soldiered on and now I long for my brain to mirror the effects from the first stroke, where my shortcomings were some short term memory loss, lack of RHS peripheral vision, tingling down the RHS of my body and general fatigue - I can handle them (they're still hanging out with me. I guess I'm a fun Kitty to hang out with after all)! Stroke #2's main damage is my severe short term memory loss; it is purely why I cannot live my life the way I want to and my brain is nowhere near ready to go back to teaching the future. It doesn't stop my volunteering stint and chomping at the bit per se to get back to my old self and ways! Knowing that my brain is considered young and therefore, more plastic, as well as the vast range of innovative strategies I can use to encourage those new brain routes and having positive people in my life helps this Kitty with this continually-extended brain battle.

Children know exactly how to compliment (and complement for that matter) Miss Laird! 

According to clever scientists, adolescents tend to tell the truth (unlike us lousy adults) because their immature minds have not yet reached the capacity to understand that they think independently. Soooo I guess I really am the funniest and the best. Definitely one thing I will not forget (and now neither will you, alright?!)!  

The message (above) is a conversation within days of my second stroke and the brain damage that ensued. Isn't it intriguing that I could still tell you Freud's theories (and still actively do), but not who I was dating at the time, what my last meal/drink was nor the name of the street I lived on? 

A colourful Freud discussion is definitely better dinner party talk than short-term memory subjects my mind currently draws blanks on anyway!

Lovin' hospital in my new pyjama onesie - especially when in the company of this lovely Italian lady (a fellow patient) who was as wise as Yoda. We still write to each other and I am forever in her debt.

 St George's Hospital, London, U.K.November 2012

Always one to value a witty pun, Jill Bolt-Taylor got my attention and hopefully she has now got yours.  Such a splendid example of a human being! Given what she too has gone through, I absolutely love her Stroke of Insight - such insight, indeed! Kudos to Taylor; my fellow stroke survivor! No doubt Jill's also got a waiting list for all the blokes too. Us stroke sorts - not only insightful and incredibly interesting, but quite the captivating catches! 

Children know exactly how to compliment (and complement for that matter) Miss Laird! According to clever scientists, young children tend to tell the truth (unlike us lousy adults) because their immature minds have not yet reached the capacity to understand that they think independently. Soooo, I guess I really am the funniest and the best. Definitely one thing I will not forget (and neither will you now, alright?!)!