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 the complex mind and the mental health of human beings (animals too!) - even when my brain was once relatively 'healthy'.  Interestingly, I had the 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 above gives an incredibly touching, detailed description of how Jill Bolte Taylor's stroke (coincidently and conveniently - for her to know to seek help ASAP when she suffered a brain injury - a neuroscientist) happened.  Looking back, I wish I was as observant of my mental health's well-being when I survived the 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. Clever docs & registered nurse, Mother Duck, now strongly advise paracetamol and/or aspirin use only) and more proactive in finding what the cause of the 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 meeting up with them. 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. Such 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 bloke-luring strokes - vasculitis - a rare disorder that can cause blood vessels and/or arteries to destroy due to inflammation in our/my little nervous system.  This autoimmune 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 research 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 leading up to the last day of the school year. 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 dear workmates after Stroke #1 (perhaps because I didn't see just how unusual/unwell I looked at the time nor was I able to properly assess the situation - which if done, would have been pretty obvious I was suffering from several typical symptoms a of a textbook stroke) and would have gone home to sleep it off if it weren't for my wise colleagues. Of course, I have since learned that going to sleep after experiencing a stroke is the one of the worst actions you could take 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 & November will suffer such a brain injury) avoid unnecessary brain damage, that may very well 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 swiftly 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-&-language-therapy's IQ tests (& no longer require due to regaining 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 and continue to lose 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 2012's strokes were 'so cool' like Taylor did when she was experiencing a stroke (pictured above, holding a...hmm either a frozen cheeseburger orrrr or or maybe a brain?!) and that they were helping my professional development! 

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 the 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 - 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 the thoughtful well-wishes from my class that kept my sanity and optimism whilst my young life hung by a thread post Stroke 2 whilst at St George's Hospital for several weeks
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 was experiencing a stroke. Initially, I wasn't at all concerned about my mental well-being (I wish I was) as both strokes were causing mass carnage by the minute. 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, you then realise you had a little too much to drink in hindsight. This is why I am truly fortunate + grateful that I had such educated and aware people around me in both instances and why I am forever spreading the word about the range of stroke symptoms, you never know when you might need to be a stroke hero for someone else.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, the first stroke's symptom of sudden onset of a 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 whilst not looking their best and the symptoms listed are why people can assume a person experiencing a stroke is inebriated. Be in the know, it'll make you a stroke hero.

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 the hospital put in my system) in hand, a cotton ball covering the puncture wound from all the daily invasive drips + blood samples stolen from me, a generic hospital name tag on my wrist (with my surname 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 Kitty Kat, I'm a true-blue battler through and through and managed to convince the docs that I desperately needed to go away for several weeks after just over a week of rehabilitation from the first stroke in various hospital locations all across London and passing necessary 'life skills' tests. Obviously, 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! It's truly fascinating that my particular deficiencies can be clearly identified before even meeting me (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.  Essentially, 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' 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 it certainly felt like I was!).  Like this card, below, which I had created for my dear friend for her birthday the previous year.  

When my devoted Klubbers would leave hospital during those morbid, challenging weeks post the second stroke 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 nearby Amsterdam).

One of my main concerns when I had the 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 the second stroke, I was told I lived with two English lads.  This was a surprise to me 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 - sweet 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) that I lived with in ole London town were regularly visiting hospital - most of the time they kindly brought a range of chocolate treats too and/or any pieces from home that I requested, as well as various colourful tales of their lives on the outside!

Every morning at St George's Hospital, I'd wake up and read this helpful little booklet (below) that was given as a memory prompt and reassurance measure smartly created by the hospital OTs 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 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 extraordinary 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/I was swiftly forgotten about), 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 (a sick Kitty is such a creeeeeep!) - brought me immense comfort about the 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). Intriguing, right?!

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 even 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 six weeks. In fact, 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. To assist in my daily duties, 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 as well as using various techniques and devices (how relieved I am to have the two 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 just 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 and almost total lack of spatial navigation; they are 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 & ways! Knowing that my tenacious 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 with this continually-extended brain battle.

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

According to clever scientists, a young adolescent tend to tells the truth (unlike us lousy adults) because their brain's prefrontal cortex has 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 (& now neither will you, alright?!)!  

The message (above) is a conversation within days of the 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 London street I was currently living 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! 

Above: Hand-made plate just for this food fiend. My students knew me so well!

Capturing Memories

Most of us know the value of photography in educating (just look at Instagram's educational shots hehe) and if you've known me for longer than five minutes, chances are we've had a photograph taken together (for 'educational' purposes, of course).  Once, I was so moved by an art exhibition where the theme was sad and/or angry moments captured on a personal level which made me ponder why we only capture our happy times. Reflecting, it just seemed insincere as well as inaccurate in capturing the days of our lives and since then, I have since actively embraced such occasions as well as the awkward moments in one's life.  Surely such experiences are just as important to reflect on/entertain in the future - perhaps you feel the same way too.

These raw, some rather confronting, yet all highly-intriguing photographs are my opportunity to show the world what my life as a two-time stroke survivor entails.  Nay, a 27-year-old two-time stroke survivor, who is one Special K with a vast range of truly extraordinary human beings offering their services in entertaining, feeding, grooming, spooning, tickling and loving a brain-damaged Kitty Kat during this challenging loss-of-mind ordeal that's end is unknown. 

Above: Fan mail!

Students from the close-knit Twickenham school I was a teacher at made all these brilliant hand-made get-well cards once they discovered I had a stroke on our last day of school, mere hours into the official Summer Holidays.

It's like a Hallmark movie (pun intended)!

July 2012

Clapham London U.K.

If anyone was to ponder why I love being a teacher, this above picture sums it up.  The first stroke happened on the very last day of the London calendar school year (late-July 2012), at the evening's celebrations with my British colleagues. The London school I was working in is in a tight-knit and beautiful community in Richmond-upon-Thames borough and when word got out that I had a massive stroke mere hours into our Summer Holidays, many extraordinary hand-crafted letters were posted my way, as well as get-well gifts that truly expressed the tight connection I had with the wonderful British children and the school (which was such a relief as I was filled with anxiety and guilt). Considerate students who knew me well, even gave a huuuuge 'blood-pressure-reducing' Ripple chocolate block (long-term-memory worthy - evidently)! Whilst chocolate provided instant endorphins (inference: chocolate is scientifically proven to be good for us!), the supportive words from my little English souls particularly gave a new lease on life.  When you have such a serious health scare, you realise who you are important to and also, who you are not.  And there's definitely been people who couldn't care less about a brain-injured Special K!  Fortunately, the future of GB seem to be fans of Miss Laird (perhaps because of the extensive joke collection) and their supportive words - laced with their warm humour and striking individuality - will forever be in my long-term-memory bank. One smart nine-year-old student even put a recurring value symbol on their 'lots of love' - a symbol I specifically had taught my class (and had retained I had as prior to mind attack) when converting 1/3 (common fraction) into a decimal fraction (0.33⁻). Evidently, they had found it such an intriguing mathematical symbol that they wanted to show their direct learnings in my class earlier that year in their hand-crafted get-well card (below). Has anyone ever smiled so much they had sore cheeks over seeing a simple mathematical symbol?! Miss Laird now has.

 

 Below:

First days out of hospital and already have the lads helping a compromised Kitty out. Given my sudden vision loss (50% of my visual field, there one day, gone the next), someone helping with my hair and make-up helped me out immensely, even if they had no clue how to actually do it. It's the thought that counts!

Clapham London U.K. 

Many people assume strokes only happen to the Yodas (aka oldies) of this world. Admittedly, I was even under that pretence, up until a dear friend (also born in the '80s) had a stroke a few years before my two. A young, also seemingly-healthy woman who had (and still has) a magnificent melon.  It changed her life instantly, made her an even more beautiful soul and she has since, selflessly helped guide myself (and I know other people too) in my quest to overcome my life's hurdles with the aid of her own firsthand experience and general words of wisdom and encouragement. Her tale is similar to mine in that when she suffered a stroke, the people around her unfortunately did not realise she had just acquired a serious brain injury, with some initially ignoring and/or dismissing her pleas for help, regarding her state as an inebriated one (a common misconception when someone has had a stroke ala the first one that struck my mind first entailed waiting hours in a hospital's emergency waiting bay suffering huge neuron loss with a massive headache as some people slur their words, have little memory retention, don't look their normal self, ask normally simple questions they should know the answer for and/or are unable to walk in a proper manner).  Time is of the essence, with irreversible damage more likely if someone suffering a stroke is left untreated for just a few hours.  Some of this damage, could very possibly be fatal.  It is a scary thought to think that both of us were initially ignored when we had the strokes because of uneducated and/or naive people. Consequently, now whenever my fellow stroke survivor meets someone, she ensures to make them aware of strokes happening to anyone and everyone and what the signs are, whilst also encouraging them to educate others about strokes, being as we (especially teachers!) know - knowledge is power.  

Because my colleagues were not overly aware nor educated about strokes hitting young people, in particular, we (including my sleepy, headache-ridden self) weren't at all concerned when my first stroke initially happened.  Shockingly, it took us several hours before we even made the trip (in the back of a colleague's car - that's how much of an emergency we regarded my strange sudden burst of a headache & its lingering various side effects of wanting to sleep and uneasy on my feet as) to hospital and even more time was wasted once at hospital - waiting - when the supposedly well educated medical staff didn't take my condition seriously (shame, shame, shame on them indeed) until my lovely 'English mums' demanded the hospital finally acknowledge my alarming and deteriorating state.  Reflecting, I am truly fortunate that I didn't have more severe brain injuries nor die during that time spent in limbo before I was treated for the first stroke.  If you have ever had someone close to you have a stroke (other than me, of course!) - given alarming statistics, I'm presuming you have - you would be aware of the symptoms.   

Here are some typical symptoms of someone experiencing a stroke - you never know when or where you may need to use such knowledge - 

• Sudden onset of headache (stroke #1 symptom) 

• Confusion/lack of memory and/or memory retention (stroke #2 symptom) 

• Unable to smile properly or repeat a simple sentence (stroke #1 & stroke #2 symptom)   

• Unable to poke tongue out in a straight manner (stroke #1 symptom - I thought it was incredibly strange that they were asking me to do such a cheeky act at the time - I was doing it before Miley Cyrus copied me!)

• Paralysis of one side of the face and/or body (stroke #1 symptom).

Whilst many strokes happen to people who are older, 1/3 of 'us' stroke survivors are youngsters.  So in essence, roughly one in eighteen of us will have a stroke when we are young (under 50) and more so if we are females - through my novice research about neuroplasticity (fancy term used by neurology hotshots *and me* for the nervous system's *aka the brain's own little body system* ability to change/mould its structure and function in the brain post damage), I have had to acknowledge that I now have a higher mortality rate for the rest of my life.  Every day, I take a cocktail of steroids + blood thinners to keep my blood-vessel inflammation at bay (to prevent a third stroke), actively participate in brain re-training exercises (which also include iPhone apps *i.e.: Lumosity and Smiling Mind*), encourage new neuron routes around the damaged pieces of brain through cooking, puzzles (Hello-Kitty! and African-Jungle-themed ones for this Kitty-Kid), occupational therapy, speech-&-language therapy (both biweekly sessions ended recently due to my brain's improvement. Boom!), regular volunteering at a supportive primary school - even just visualising familiar places like my old Twickenham classroom helps retrain my brain (would even assist to improve non-damaged ones)! 

An important recommendation (and one I was slightly neglecting leading up to both strokes) is to ensure there is plenty of rest after suffering a brain injury (I'm now like a baby! My brain literally enforces this one now with frequent Kat naps). Please take this on board for if you ever have a stroke/know someone who has just had a stroke (the first two years post brain injury are vital in optimal neural rerouting). Whilst I was able to go back to my full-time profession a mere six weeks post Stroke #1 (with determination, optimism and enthusiasm! I was an Aussie battler first time 'round!), it is almost a year since stroke #2 happened (so over 8x the rehab time *before I returned to full-time work* I had for stroke #1, thus far) and I'm still a long way off even being able to give a full day at the supportive school I have been volunteering at for several months now (due to my sleepy brain getting so easily fatigued because I must use it immensely whilst in the classroom!).

Up until July 2012, I had no inkling that I would have two strokes in the final months of being a 26 year old (wonder) woman.  The only warning signs that could have been considered were regular (weekly) headaches (let that be a lesson to you all!).  It is also worth noting that I don't smoke, my blood pressure has always been fine (even now) and my blood-cholesterol levels are absolutely perfect (I know that last attribute surprises many of you who know my love for high cholesterol foodies, thank the daily porridge fix!), as is my head and/or neck injury history (lack there of).  Of course, I could have been more proactive in pinpointing why I was having regular headaches before the first stroke occurred, but I'm a typical Australian/Pom (I'm a hybrid of the two) and sweep much of my dust (ala the regular headaches) under the avoidance rug.  This is why I feel such a passion for helping make people aware of strokes and to recognise the vast range of symptoms one may suffer when having a stroke to ensure they receive medical help promptly - the appropriate treatment I (eventually) received has undoubtedly saved my life.

It has been truly extraordinary how people react to my strokes (parents and grandparents *not just mine* are so far my favourite supporters. So warm, empathetic and nurturing. Children - a close second, naturally!).  Some peers are completely ignorant and think strokes merely affect your muscles or perhaps just part of your vision and because I looked like my ole self (post initial treatment, not when I had to go on fat-face steroids), trying to live my life of yesteryear, the sheer ignorance has been quite a distinct and frequent challenge.  People thought that because I looked 'normal', I may just be experiencing a mini-stroke where I am just fatigued more than usual because they saw that symptom once in a movie and everything else is working fine -  simply because I look fine so I should shut up and be grateful.  It is hard to explain this newfound life chapter, but I do hope the blog entries shed some light on brain-injured Miss Laird.

WOAH! Stroke Kitty 1.0 - Don't be concerned by this sad Kitty Kat (in ca-ute fashion) shot taken in the first days in hospital after a life-changing brain injury - this face was my hospital-gown-chic, model-esque pose of 2012. Or Perhaps I was just hungry (what's new?!) and asking my little flow of visitors when they were going to feed me dinner (see next shot).   

 

Friends would cut up my truly-yummy hospital food (...because that bloody eyesight of mine *lack there of* was causing trouble again hehe! I may have been spoiled with that one) -  and yep, she even had a few spoonfuls herself (Z.Hanson loved it!). Thanks National Health System!

Supportive buddies have always ensured to provide the bare essentials (ala Dumb-&-Dumber style) - laughter, love, affection, plenty of new underwear and business suit silk pyjamas (for business time), cookies, Happy Meals, Kitty-Kat balloons and of course, a make-your-own-boyfriend pack (a thoughtful-AND-necessary gift - I'll use in case of an emergency, of course).  Obviously, I was the most popular patient on the ward with wonderful Klubbers, even my roomies (fellow patients) and employees (nurses) wanted some chitty chat (I happily obliged/spooned)! It may surprise you to discover but I actually liked hospital - life is about attitude (dear Daddio, Brumby Bob's life motto) after all and I truly made the most of my newfound (temporary) home!

This lady is more amazing than all the potatoes in all of the world. Look how much she is loving my sexy hospital get up - clearly wants snuggles (and she got them)

Friends and dear colleagues (plus my school's close-knit community) have ensured to regularly send messages of support throughout this ordeal, with dark (my-kind-of) humour laced messages being ever so present.  This prime example below is a message I received after Stroke #1 in July 2012.  A colleague had visited hospital a few days after I was hospitalised (and a few days into our school holidays - he should have been livin' it up abroad! What a sweetie pie!) and after he left, swiftly sent me this rather witty, although-highly-morbid, message (LOVED IT!).  I just have a habit of bringing out the best in people!

   

Above: Dry English Humour. The Best Medicine

Buddies would constantly visit (what else do they have to do in boring ole London town?!) to have quality time on my garden terrace (aka the hospital's roof. Thanks NHS!) despite needing to finalise some important work (seen here via the convenience of a Smart Phone in assisting such duties) during the many weeks in hospital in 2012. They'd bring in Happy Meals and copious amounts - and variation - of chocolate bars, complain about the location of the hospital (in terms of London's public-transport zones, which given its spot in Zone 3, cost more for inner-city dwellers to visit - price I had to pay for a world-class neuro ward! Sorry mates! ), offer words of encouragement laced with their unique humour and familiar lingo (which soothed the nerves of this confused brain-damaged sort!), describe the goings-on in their and the world (especially dates, friends doing embarrassing acts and/or social occasions) and all the while, tend to some urgent work of their own through the benefits of technology (fortunate for such as it meant they could regularly leave work early for our hang outs). That's how much I must have entertained them when they'd visit  (for them to keep on returning! As if I'd remember they had visited 10 minutes later! Kitty-Humble Pie!) - this below shot is evidence of the priority I held in peoples' lives (I swear he's not just searching for the location of the nearest bar, but rather, organising important work he should be at work doing) and also, how lovely my Klubbers have been to their favourite Special K.
Friends would also send me pick-me-up messages whilst they were working (and I was Little Miss Anxious!), with a picture of a little character they created with their cufflinks. Have I reverted back to being an 8-year-old child?! Good. 

Whilst at hospital, I got plenty of foot tickles from a colleague I refer to as Queen - all you need to do is ask nicely (and make her laugh - so easy to do!). Give it a go!

When I initially left hospital after Stroke 1 in mid-2012, some 'Goodies'  kept brain-damaged-and=body/being-compromised Kitty company on the Tuuuuube when I needed to go to outpatient appointments and/or social occasions (and provide their unique facial expression for photos, below, just days after Stroke 1) that if attempted to be done alone, cause anxiety for this Special K as I may forget where I'm going or why I am going there - stressful city! 

 

Buddies were forever taking me to the pub for plenty of blood-thinning refreshments (it is said red wine can help reduce your stroke risk - it's science!) and connect-four brain (re)training (inference - rehabilitation) during the first days out of hospital (...actually, they still keep up such beneficial therapy!) in August - October 2012. 

Endorphin-filled tantalising dates in the sunshine, having are few blood-thinning wines within days of the first hospital release (aka a week after brain damage #1!) with some of the most beautiful people around - they were looking after their Kitty! I look right as rain to the naked eye, but my brain was as scrambled as an egg and needed 24-hour care (I still need around-the-clock care). Not to worry; I can still have fun and more importantly, be fun, thank goodness!

    

Just over a week after Stroke #1 and I'm challenging the Brits to some arm wrestles at the pub - definitely not letting my hemiparesis (one-sided body weakness - common effect of stroke) take my fun away! 

Upon returning home from the hospital after Stroke #1, colleagues greeted myself with all these lovely cards from beautiful English students that had sent Laird-love letters on their Summer Break (they found out during such that I had suffered a stroke on our last day together! They were all so eager to see me in the new school year too) which not only showcased their utmost support and love for this Kitty *mmhmm Miss Laird*, but also explain why I love being a teacher (it is not often that people in other career paths would get such a vast range of get-well items - especially the beautifully-handmade *with love* variety!) - some pieces even showcased what I had directly taught those students *past and present* - i.e.: 2A sentence (two adjectives before each noun in a sentence) or a recurring symbol above 'lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of love', as well as the special nickname given to a student when I had taught them the power of alliteration earlier in the year (FYI - the alliteration-inspired nickname that was given as a quick example has now stuck forevermore, yes Dizzy!).

 P.N.: Stroke #1 (conveniently) occurred in the first few hours of our 6-week summer holidays from school - at our end-of-school year party! So I technically didn't require one sick day after stroke #1 (stroke #2 has almost accumulated a whole year worth of sickies!).

I was back teaching year 4 (LOVE!) again with everything good to go, including my assimilation pack (aka: Team GB t-shirt from the truly magical 2012 London Summer Olympic Games a few weeks earlier) and Welcome 4L sign up - units were planned, resources prepared, learning groups allocated and pencils were indeed all sharpened. Yep, Kitty meant serious business! 

  

It just isn't a Twickenham/Richmond school without returning to a sea of gifts, flowers, gift vouchers, chocolate (RIPPLES! How did everyone know my weakness?!), more personalised hand-made-with-LOVE cards wishing me well with my rehab and unique art pieces from ever-supportive colleagues, students AND the families of students I taught. Best job ever.  

 

 

Some pieces that were in my classroom upon my return to school post Stroke #1 in September 2012, include these reflections done by my previous year's students.  Taking shots of the reflections has ensured to remind that I had such a profound effect on children (to help me when I'm feeling down about this silly ole brain injury).  So much so, that many put they were going to miss their teacher (when they went to year 5), the little bells collected from travels all around the world placed in various spots in the classroom (used as attention devices - definitely going to have them in my home when I have my own children, of course) and the obsession with cooking lessons (don't get me started on the range of key learning areas covered when you cook with students!  It was our 'end-of-term' tradition). I certainly felt the love!

I have read that most children who experience a stroke will do better than adults after treatment and rehabilitation (which was almost a year-long process with bi-weekly appointments for stroke #2's brain damage and the re-routing of pathways).  This is due in part to the immature brain's (well I do have an immature mind - just like a child! But they so mean a different kind of 'immature') great plasticity, as well as adapting to the deficits and injury itself. Ignorance also plays a vital role in an adolescent's rapid improvements and this was indeed my Aussie-Battler-inspired attitude when dealing with my first stroke.  If I ignored it, it would go away!  Just like all those stage-five clingers! The fact is (and I learnt this the hard way), you can't ignore a serious brain injury - you are reminded every day of your life's newfound challenges - whether it be sleeping for upwards of 12 hours each night (plus regular daily Kat-naps) or an inability to use a key card because the brain plays up/doesn't work as effectively at its usual post-strokes' capacity when it's fatigued and you've suddenly forgotten your 3-year-old pin. It initially took a few weeks to even recall my cards' 4-digit pins (dear friends paid all my bills, upcoming holiday payments and rent - no qualms for such good eggs!) and it was some months before I could access my Internet banking accounts online - I was in Australia and my English bank didn't trust I was indeed Katrina Laird when I called because I was unable to answer my own security questions. The same situation was had for my Australian cards and all my passwords for any Internet accounts. You just don't think of this and you most certainly cannot predict it nor make it up! Lucky I am one persistent Kitty and have achieved many set goals in memory retention thus far with passwords finding their way around the damaged pieces of brain and friends don't 'have to' shout me lunch (too often)!

Incredibly humbling moments for Miss Laird!  I could dwell on my life's daily hurdles, what has been taken away from me as a direct result of my brain injury and the vast array of challenges brain damage has thrown my way - and there are indeed some days where I feel like no one in the world could possibly understand what I'm going through and that I'm stuck this Special-K way forevermore, but for the most part, I know I have been incredibly fortunate in merely surviving two massive strokes and the brain damage + its turmoil that ensued, as well as identifying my little condition (which requires daily blood thinners to be safe) before it had a fatal effect.  I am truly humbled. Furthermore, I am thankful (as I am sure everyone around me is too) that I am still able to shower myself (a nurse has tested this seemingly-otherwise-simple ability. I showed *not showered* her!), volunteer at a local school without students realising I have a memory deficit (I'm one smooth operator in keeping the focus purely on them! Those kids are bloody perceptive - it's harder to disguise memory loss than you think), cook a scrumptious meal (that was also tested by medical professionals along with a range of typically demeaning tasks to be examined for a 20 something year old woman), enjoy dates with all the blokes that like the strokie version of Kitty (meow!) and/or receive some serious spooning sessions from my dear Klubbers (please note: spooning and dating abilities not tested by occupational therapist. They must have known strokes didn't affect my affection abilities - see below for hospital hugs with fellow patients! Smarties).

Lucky little Kitty.