Turn Off The Lights And I'll Glow

“Happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light”

- J.K. Rowling (one wise, magical soul)

I'm sure many can relate to JK's analogy with your own 'pumps' (your supporters/my Kitty Klubbers) that light up your world in all your life's dark chapters. Just like a glow-in-the-dark star that I am, my pumps' lights shine and this gives me my own energy to glow in this dark chapter

The massive quinella-style brain injuries have made this fine feline realise (wixth the help of my dear Klubbers who encouraged such analysis and categorising) that there are two kinds of people in our world; people who supply you with glorious energy to pump you up with goodness and vitality and then - at the other end of the spectrum - there's the unfortunate people who take your own glorious energy away - the vacuums, if you will (my dear Zac Hanson's very own wise philosophy that single-handedly made me instantly see sense and clarity), who need your energy as a source of their own supply (I see you nodding at such a concept). The few sucking vacuums in my life did not know nor practise the act of pumping for this Kitty when I sorely needed it (I was the one pumping them when I was well, hence them having me as a friend prior to strokes) and so with myself needing their friendship, in turn, could no longer maintain such a demanding request that brain injuries create. The takers have become quite evident and predictably - without a healthy-brained Kitty around - they have jumped the Kat-Ship. Admittedly, I need to accept that the energy people bring to me is out of my control and stop trying to fix them to be as noble a creature as myself (or you or Jack, Dan the Man, Nim, KG, Roons, Drew, Pimpy, Murse Gilly *hehe*, Jesso - the pump list goes on - us pumps are out there!). 

I am slowly, but surely accepting this treatment as a brain-injured soul.  Because I couldn't give them the usual wheelbarrows of endorphins, affection, excitement, humour and joy that I typically gave prior to strokes, they didn't want nor need me in their lives. Some have blamed me for their own ignorance, pointed the finger, knowing that I couldn't use my usual sharp and objective thinking that would normally offer clarity and others have let their lack of respect reflect through simply ignoring me and/or telling everyone (but me) how much of a problem/liability I am with the brain injury, sometimes referring to our entire friendship as non-existent to help them feel better about such abandonment.  It is why I often do feel like I am in a coma, that I'm an ugly human being and that my life no longer holds purpose. The good news is such angst is slowly, but surely reducing and my Kitty Kat Klubbers are forever making myself see purpose in living, that I am a valued human being in this world and they selflessly exert so much happiness that I sometimes get sore cheeks from smiling so much whilst in their presence! Eventually, I hope to reflect on the loss of so-called friends and people with whom I held the utmost respect for, as an enlightening, strengthening and perhaps even humouring experience (the Laird way!), where my heart that literally aches at the thought of these people, no longer pains and the love for the people who have been there for me only continues to prosper.

Above: Bottom RHS - one of two chunks of dead brain that are hanging out in my thinking device.  This enlightening shot into my soul was taken using a Magnetic Resonance Index (MRI) scan (I asked the docs if I could take a photo of such impressive brain damage. My team of docs have always been good sports).  This shot above is the first stroke's brain damage that had a range of brain deficits post (some still lingering in my mind *PI*. I guess you could say we're going steady now!).  However, those challenges were spread around my whole being (listed in previous blog entries) and I was actively and optimistically tackling such - even successfully venturing 'back to school' after acquiring this first chunk of brain injury (and with inflamed blood vessels in my brain, but we were none the wiser of such a cause of the first stroke at the time) a mere 6 weeks post. Not because I was necessarily ready for full-time work, but because I hadn't taken a moment to stop and analyse the situation objectively, everyone was treating me like I wasn't Special K and I believed them as such. I surely didn't look at how my profession - that I knew only to love with all my heart - would impede on my rest, recovery and well-being (and something that may have added to my second stroke happening just a few months post Stokie #1). 

Reflecting on my own brain battles (the result of just one stroke clearly shown by the blob in the image above) , I've realised that to survive a stroke (or two) is to live through adversity; it is an ongoing, mentally exhausting battle (for the strokie and their empathetic and patient support network that stick by them) and it is not just the moment the brain injury occurs (ala severe headache, paralysis, confusion/lack of memory retention, loss of sight, slurred speech and/or drooping muscles in face and body) before they seek medical treatment, but it is also the years it takes to recover from one stroke and/or if you're really unlucky, two.  Being young means - due to my brain's youthful plasticity- the recovery will be faster than someone with the same extent of brain injury in their twilight years (silver lining for Kitty!).   To be positive, determined, patient and humourous are important traits that I recommend to hone in on (and actively execute) for anyone who has themselves suffered brain injuries and/or a severe health obstacle. Admittedly, the path has been (for myself and my dear Klubbers) painful, tedious and at times, discouraging, especially with what I still have yet to mentally achieve, what I have lost (a youthful life, career, independence and travel!), the general ignorance and insensitivity by many because of their lack of understanding and all the while, being fully aware that all my peers are travelling the world, furthering their careers and/or being independent (I have a dream!).  This awareness makes me occasionally wish that I was not so with 'it', that I didn't realise just what I have lost in my life and the quality of such and not becoming upset (because of my own ignorance) when people ignore me or treat me in a way that hurts to my core (if I had a different part of my brain damaged from the strokes, I may not be as troubled by such, because I wouldn't be as aware of their attitudes/treatment).  Yes, this is the road less travelled by a 20-something (witty) woman, but this direction also offers me the opportunity to prosper and reach personal achievement that I otherwise would not have experienced in my twenties. Boom, shake the room!

This attitude may as well be why strokes get the blokes all across the world, hey hey hey! 

Now, let's bring a little joy to this blog entry by finishing with some humour (best medicine). 

Strokes Get The Blokes - Photographic Evidence (you asked for it!)

Above: Recent Australia Day 2014 celebrations at Byron Bay (like moths to a peacock-flame *us or them?!*) with some lovely female Klubbers (+ newly-acquired superhero fans). 

Brisbane buddies (just a typical night out at Limes Hotel's boutique style rooftop bar when Kitty is in the house) - they just couldn't help themselves

Dublin (highest growing capital city...get it?! They did) where you instantly feel like you're a kid in a candy store (PI heyyyyyy potato lover, KG) during St Paddy's Day celebrations, wanting to do everything at once (so overwhelming!). Everyone is indeed your best friend and it truly is the friendliest place in the wooooorld.

Munich for a festival of beer (aka blood thinners), 'prosts' and wursts with a healthy ratio of men to women a few months post Stroke 1

London in our hip East London-esque attire (yep, this avid fan is getting his Kitty-Kreep on)

Amsterdam - where everyone is high on love, especially when celebrating their Dutch Queen by wearing the colour orange, walking the streets buying cheap booze off the locals that live in the houses you walk past, Jager timer bombs, canal lizard-queen diving antics, Dam-style cafes with foosball, 2D monkey cartoons coming to life and of course, mid-afternoon air-drum solo (on repeat) to Phil Collins' classic, 'In The Air Tonight'. Naturally, with such an experience, we are all going to be in love and I'm going to be comfortably sitting on a bike's handle bars on one of the Dam's many bridges with two foreigners (/new besties loving my/their work)

Budapest at a week-long music festival a few weeks post Stroke #1 in August 2012 (good to see my 'boss' attitude was still in tact!) - these Western Australian lovely lads were recently-acquired mates (one also had my last name! What a lucky *Laird* lad!) who ensured I knew where our VIP 'real-life toilets & freshly-flowing hot showers' Area (at a music festival?! - Boom Euro festivals!) was every day and more importantly, they made certain that I was a regularly fed Kitty (...rooster teste 'nutty' stew was the most memorable albeit a bit of a 'nutty' flavour). As you can see, they knew where the best seat in the house was to see Snoop Dogg - atop a bin (innovative souls)! Because of my first massive piece of brain dying just a few weeks prior to this Czech music festival, I was still dealing with a vast range of thinking/being deficits, in particular, my short term memory concerns (that were a 'walk in the park' in comparison to Stroke #2's significant memory deficit).  Such kind gentlemen helped this Special K find my way around the Euro-style event (I never managed to memorise where the bathrooms/toilets were, but the Eastern European guy making us freshly-made bacon and egg baps every morning went straight into my long term memory bank! Naturally) and they also ensured I found my way back to my own tent safely (short term memory at its finest - reminiscent of the 'Car Park' episode of Seinfeld!) - one even shared his jumper with this poor packer during the cool nights (as in, two in one!). Thank you for helping a Special K out, dear Cubey and Co!

Exhibit B

Exhibit A

Finally, the little Italian island known as Sardinia (Exhibit A and B above; C below). Check out our lovely Italian admirers! As you can see, Exhibit B (cuties) was during the daytime - you can only imagine how electric that little island is at night.

Exhibit C

Now I could keep posting evidence of just how the strokes get the blokes all across the world, but I think I really sold it to you with Exhibit C's free reign of Tony's delicious food and wine at his otherwise-closed deli, just because he is a lovely gentleman and Kitty + Aviva were in the house. Boom.

#strokesgettheblokes

As John Lennon once said (about peace, but peace of Kitty-Mind fits too) - 

You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one

A few weeks post Stroke #1 in August 2012, I visited this renowned wall in Prague, known quite simply as John Lennon Wall.  Along with creative images, it also has a collection of his and The Beatles' lyrics sprawled by anyone who visits - with absolute freedom to express yourself by showing your Lennon/The Beatles respects (the wall symbolises the fight against oppression, praising freedom and freedom of speech. Decent spot to venture!). 

I love that I can still be a dreamer like Lennon actively was, that I too can still imagine and I especially LOVE that I am a two-time stroke survivor who has a mind that is such a tremendously hard-working brain (damaged and all) - I'm still going to go places in my life, regardless of this bump and fork in the road.

After such a life-changing experience, I can indeed say that Lennon was/is right; all you need is love - fortunately I have got (and get) plenty - even for my Special K damaged brain.