TEDx Talk
(presented by my doting PA/li'l sister, Jacky Laird & I)
Theme: Curiosity
Laughter Is the Best Medicine
Strokes, Jokes, Rehabilitation & Stroke Smarts
May 2015
In May 2015, my little sister, Jack Attack ('PA' in blue, above left), took on the enormous task of being by my Special K side as we (<<thanks to her organisational skills and time commitment) presented a TEDx Talk at a local university in Australia's Far North Queensland region on how laughter has been the best medicine in stroke rehab, as well as ensuring to spread awareness of brain attacks in people under retirement age, in particular, with an aim to raise familiarity about seemingly-healthy young people suffering strokes and also, to gain further understanding and appreciation of the altered (putting it lightly!) life chapter that is unfortunately ahead for some stroke survivors. When we were asked to present (by the TEDx curator), we certainly were concerned about how I, in particular, was going to simply remember what to say (given absence of the temporal lobe's hippocampus in the brain's right hemisphere which typically controls emotions, helps develop your memories and store such, as well as retrieve them appropriately - I'm like a stroke sieve without the mind's hippo-c!), but with us both taking on this newfound, challenging situation with humour, optimism and tenacity (and being active learners in the process!), we bounced off each other's chat like it was a night out for us (where we typically and frequently give relative strangers stroke smarts - don't mention it, newfound mates!).
Thank you for the support, dear little treasure, Jack Attack (+ mental-health registered nurse, Mother Duck - my fellow stroke-survivor sister 4lyf)!
As you would expect, our TEDx Talk was quite the challenge (to put it lightly) to simply present for my younger sister, Jacky, by my side as I couldn't be relied on to remember anything we prepared.
Family and mates encouraged jokes (that were not far off the mark) about needing palm cards (understatement! Perhaps more in my forgetful case, arm cards!) and Jack Attack (her christened name), surely had bitten off more than she could chew with agreeing to be my supportive director/PA on stage! We swiftly accepted that my bruised brain could not be trusted in its otherwise-simple recollection of what we had particularly prepared in the months leading up to the talk. Given the topic of the May 2015 event was 'Curiosity', half of the talk was to be about how one deals with losing billions of neurons whilst in their 20s (+ how their splendid supporters deal with such!), where we showcased the incredible (& hilarious, as morbid as that may sound) mindset many swiftly adopted from Day One of Stroke Rehab as I was stuck in hospital for six weeks with just a few seconds' worth of memory retention that made myself think I was actually, in fact, dead (Cotard's syndrome can be a devastating effect of brain damage that can be fatal - thinking you're dead = invincibility mindset) or at the very least, in a coma dreaming what was actually happening (I could predict what friends & family were going to say + old newspapers left in my hospital/'hotel' room particularly caused extreme meltdowns, sometimes needing to be sedated), constantly fearing recurring strokes + suffering further disabilities and loss (different attitude to post Stroke 1 where I dismissed any thoughts of a second stroke striking as my *ignorant* way of dealing with the first dose of considerable brain damage) and/or the strokes winning the battle with a deceased Kitty. Put simply, humour was (and still is!) an absolute necessity in the challenging + devastating stroke rehab & instead of dwelling in the 'victim' mentality, along with the the past (where one was healthy-minded, independent & valued) and feelings of helplessness + worthlessness, family and mates instead ensured to focus on my keen sense of humour that was still so blatantly evident (*your words) & truly saved us all.
Laughter was - and is - the best medicine & our TEDx audience surely were curious as to how this has been so in my particular experience of otherwise-confronting stroke rehabilitation.
|
If the 'Iron Lady', Margaret Thatcher, singer + The Voice (Australia) judge, Jessie J (<< who credits a stroke when she was a teenager with providing the push to succeed. Hurrah!), British author & former headmaster, Martin Stephen, tennis ace & fellow Queenslander, my idol, Mr (sir?!) Rod Laver (LOVE him dearly, far out!) and actors, Kirk Douglas (also called it his 'stroke of luck') and Sharon Stone (who identifies a 2001 stroke + subsequent cerebral hemorrhage - which she endured over nine mighty long days - as making her stronger & more emotionally intelligent where she tells supporters to just 'deal with it'. Yes! Boom!), together with British columnist and writer, Euan Ferguson (<< read this compelling-+-insightful articles on the particular strokes he experienced + the aftermath that many in the society seem to disregard - even people who are suppose to be *<<operative words* aware, i.e.: nurses + therapists) & British broadcaster/journalist, Andrew Marr (do check out his artistic side that has come to fruition post stroke that is gloriously aiding his rehab. Love it!) are not immune to such, then we must accept that strokes do not discriminate & we ought to actively try reduce our stroke risk so that the statistic no longer sits at 1 in 6 of people suffering at least one stroke in their lifetime - every single postcode in Australia, in particular, has people living with the effects of stroke & the figure is only growing (#nopostcodeuntouched). In doing so, we will hopefully reduce strokes being labelled as the leading cause for adult disability statistic. Act FAST and be stroke smart - actively reduce your individual stroke risk.
Stroke Smarts = Happy Mind!
Have you ever considered what your strengths as a human being might be? Strokes truly don't care. Such strengths you took tremendous joy and pride in over the years could easily and abruptly be taken from you whilst in your youthful 20s, by simply waking up for the day ahead or celebrating the last day of work before your summer holidays (26-year-old Kitty stylin'!). Nothing out of the ordinary and no direct concern and bam! There goes my abled life. Even with emergency assistance within minutes after the second stroke, my life - and that of my mother and younger sister who care for myself now - was drastically changed in 2012 due to an unforeseeable event + medical condition I had absolutely no control over. My young circulatory system acquired a yet-to-be-diagnosed autoimmune disease which suddenly inflicted severe damage once I took my foot off the gas of 'life' on that last day of school in July just over three years ago. Reflecting now, the only major warning sign that a stroke was imminent was regular headaches (I was previously considered 'low risk of stroke'), although a nasty stomach bug (caught at school, a typical teacher drama) and severe kidney infection (something I've never experienced before! Ouchy!) in the months leading up to the first stroke may have contributed to my autoimmune system flipping out and wrongfully hurting my youthful brain in an attempt to keep everything in working order (it was overzealous!). In reality, such could happen to anyone and that's the confronting factor of strokes that many are unaware of, dismissing any symptoms in the lead-up and in the event, but now with hindsight, I do hope that my peers consider themselves stroke smart. Labeling strokes as 'the silent killer' is definitely one analogy that gets your attention and I encourage everyone to get familiar with how strokes strike without sugar-coating the effects. Australia's National Stroke Foundation have hit the nail on the head (bad pun!) with their piece on stroke awareness. Some have wondered why I went back to work, the very first day back after our summer holidays (not one official sick day - six weeks of school holidays, one week of which was spent initially hanging out in hospital. I wanted out after a week in order to improve at a more healthy pace in the 'real world') when I honestly should have had more time - six months to two years' stroke rehab is the minimum amount generally recommended by medical masters and others in the know. 'It takes tiiiiime' as mates would continuously insist as a form of inspiration, but I was in the mindset that having struggles was a problem which in itself I wanted to desperately avoid, especially in my profession of perfection + at my ripe young age of 26 where I still felt capable & like myself. Now I embrace the confronting problems, where I do try to complement them & celebrate what they ultimately offer - so should we all in this morbid world where perfection is a deluded-+-unhealthy expectation. This attitude makes one consider one of my fave mind enthusiasts, Dr Sigmund Freud, who once declared, 'a man should not strive to eliminate his complexes but to get into accord with them: They are legitimately what direct his conduct in the world'. Acceptance. Boom! Embrace your quirks. Yes!
What could have easily been weaknesses that define my character have now turned into positives embraced wholeheartedly in my Special-K world & that of my superb supporters!
The strokes have caused a drastic attitude adjustment from deep within where I've learned to -
- remain positive (and witty!) despite a compelling negative outlook lingering in the shadows;
- live moderately (putting that lightly!), resisting any unhealthy comparisons to my current stagnate career and life progress and its drastic effects to that of others who are experiencing their life's endeavours with health being on their side whilst in their youth; and
- maintain a keen sense of humour even/especially when feeling utterly lonely, incapable and trapped, too often like I'm being talked at instead of with and regularly not listened to (which is a sensitive aspect of stroke recovery as you often feel invisible and experience some people putting what you want at the bottom of their priority list, where you are made to feel simply relieved to still be included despite being unwell - my intelligence and character are still here and are to be respected and definitely celebrated)
Special K is getting there!
"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars"
- Oscar Wilde
- Oscar Wilde
(Irish author, playwright, poet, genius and some say, the 'First Modern Man'), who died after a nasty inner-ear infection progressed into a serious infection of his brain (meningitis - what I thought I was soon going to die from when initially told I had a viral infection of the brain before Stroke 2 was identified), reflects on the beauty of perspective.
Attitude!


THANK YOU!
"We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean.
But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop."
~ old mate of Nurse Mother Duck's (/met her once, last century = an undeniable, close bond) , the Nobel-laureate, insightful (Saint) Mother Teresa.
Incredibly-confronting moments/weeks/months for all when I thought I was dead (Cotard's syndrome), alone with my raw thoughts (+ in a 10-second continuous loop given severe short-term memory loss) which made myself frighteningly anxious about missing my year-4 class and that they had forgotten me/I was no longer important to them nor my school, wondering why my immediate family weren't yet with me at hospital (fortunately, I do have some British relatives who would visit hospital to calm the nerves - some didn't actually live in London and they'd travel in from England's various shires for a brief visit during strict hospital visiting hours despite my brain forgetting within minutes that they had put in such generous effort. Humbled and honoured to have you all!)…Despite myself being on the other side of the world when I was certain to die from another stroke/operation (Mother Duck - conveniently, a respected mental-health registered nurse - was constantly in direct liaisons with the medical staff who would commend her particular knowledge of mental health and strokes, in particular, to me after she had called them demanding I needed to be given certain medicine for my anxiety + restlessness in the early hours when I couldn't sleep, fretting about being dead/petrified about what was indeed happening to me! Fortunately for myself/for her *to have a stroke daughter! Free professional development. Don't mention it, dear MD!*, my mummy eventually flew over to London to take her middle daughter back Down Under in December 2012).
'No matter how deep the darkness is around you, keep looking for the light' -
JK Rowling's wise wizard, Albus Dumbledore, giving you the hot tip!
JK Rowling's wise wizard, Albus Dumbledore, giving you the hot tip!

Leza One's insightful mural shines a light on the power of optimism mixed with determination in times of tragedy.
Do join us in adopting this proactive stance.
Jose de Diego Middle School, Wynwood USA
Feel you need to know more about what a stroke entails and from a medical perspective?
Please do view -
Stroke: The Reality: What Does it Really Mean?
+ Stroke: The Reality: How Can I Reduce my Risk for Stroke?
Above: How the magical mind works

When you have lost your mind (figuratively and literally speaking), your life, its progress and your identity, I have realised - firsthand - that you run/sprint to what you sincerely love. Teaching is what I love and these unique well wishes (above and below) showcase why. When you think of your job, it's not often that a copious amount of people from such, would offer you support, but this is all I have received from generous, thoughtful children. After the first stroke, my Queen Emma (a work colleague in UK) would receive letters + sweet, handmade cards (even gift vouchers from the loving and supportive parents!) sent to her home and she'd bring them directly to my depleted self whilst in hospital (thank you, thank you, thank you). My dear former colleagues (who were there when I had Stroke 1.0 at a staff party in mid-2012, where some then took headache-ridden, ghastly-looking Special K to the nearby hospital demanding I be seen. Those stroke smarties surely saved my life!) still send cards, chocolate & British delights my way to show their support and when I worry that I (the master of forgetting) have been forgotten by them, they remind me of my legacy and/or what I mean to them - still, despite oceans away and a broken mind. Just what a struggling stroke survivor needs.

Below: How Special K does hospital - 'perfect-anatomy' (minus nervous system) compliments (with an overprotective - and perhaps confused - darling big brother). Yes!

Time lost = brain lost!
"You may have to fight a battle more than once to win it."
~ former UK Prime Minister and fellow stroke sufferer, Iron-lady Margaret Thatcher, would appreciate a two-time stroke survivor's battle to victory (perhaps that was her above remark's inference).

+ Stroke: The Reality: How Can I Reduce my Risk for Stroke?

Above: How the magical mind works
The devastating Loss Cycle (which you may know yourself either first or second hand) was something that was begrudgingly thrust into my world the moment I had both unpreventable strokes in 2012 whilst in my supposed prime in life's thriving 20s. It made my positive attributes hide and many were quick to judge which meant my loss spilled over from abilities and quality of life, to also loss of support and lack of life progression (rather, regression!). Now nearing 30 (look at my tenacious brain go!), the range of intense feelings associated with the Loss Cycle have included -
Shock
Shock
Grief
Denial
Anger
Isolation
Depression
Acceptance
Denial
Anger
Isolation
Depression
Acceptance
'When you do something noble and beautiful and nobody noticed, do not be sad. For the sun every morning is a beautiful spectacle and yet most of the audience still sleeps'
- The Beatles' John Lennon still offers us encouragement, wisdom and clarity.
- The Beatles' John Lennon still offers us encouragement, wisdom and clarity.
Above: A basic little orientation board kept permanently by my side whilst in hospital helped with the overwhelming anxiety (imagine how it would feel constantly worrying that you don't simply know the year you're living in - if you're even living - nor where you are or what happened just five seconds earlier, with strangers regularly walking around your room)
Not once have I pondered 'why did this happen to me?' with negative connotations. If not me, then who should it instead happen to? Absolutely no one deserves to have their brain - what makes them who they are - taken away from them (especially whilst in their prime waking up for the day or when with colleagues at a work party)! From the extraordinary support I continuously receive, I know I am not alone in the assumption that I couldn't find a better-suited person to tackle this young stroke survivor role!
However, I have often pondered -
However, I have often pondered -
'How can I ensure others are able to accurately understand what I'm going through so that they are more understanding, nurturing, patient and sympathetic for all survivors?'
'Why isn't my brain getting better?'
'Will I be 'this way' forever?'
'Why are some people now treating me with little patience, empathy and consideration?'
'Why are some people now treating me with little patience, empathy and consideration?'
'What is the purpose of living when you're brain damaged and not independent? What can be my new purpose?
'How will I ever be able to be a class teacher again?'
'Where have my friends hidden the chocolate bars - they have written in my memory-aiding notebook that they brought some in earlier?! This should be important to my mind - long-term memory!'
Quite heavy (& not-so-heavy) queries to ponder indeed, but I appreciate that I am now more aware because that means the plastic, albeit damaged, mind is certainly improving. Hospital staff member/my bestie, Gilly, put it perfectly in week five of hospital vacay (written notes in my cherished notebook) by saying that my mood had noticeably changed during the month+ 'stay' because of my increased awareness. At first, I was, for the most part, laughing - probably because Gilly did a good job of mocking my accent and telling me how lazy/humorous/weird Australian sorts are/I am! Eventually with time, as I became more aware, I became more frightened and I'd beg my guests to spoon me until I fell asleep each night (previously thrived on nights when I had my bed to myself!), not only because of the current life situation with brain damage and the pseudo-broken heart, but also because I didn't want to be alone with my morbid thoughts and the distraction of a 'spoon' (+ chocolate) always ensured I avoided such. Thank you, supernovas! Every morning (whilst at hospital), I'd wake up, hearing the familiar, although incredibly eerie-&-disturbing beeps of various machines all around me and even more worrying, were the people who would walk past my ward who seemed like they were coming to life from my dreams (we deduce I had seen them earlier, but could not make the connection due to lack of short term memory so they seemed like ghosts/zombies. Seriously scary stuff). I'd predict what they'd do as they walked past (a laugh or an ear scratch, for example) and then it'd surely happen (I SWEAR!), which made me incredibly paranoid. Fortunately, I never had to be sedated in the serious sense, but I definitely needed a) neuro-ward head honcho, Gilly, nearby to reassure me (if he wasn't, he came to see me the very second he could. Thank you, dear G-man!), b) friends to message with new ways to express that I wasn't in a coma + photos of what they were in the midst of doing to prove such a 'deadly' theory was ridiculous (ensuring to mix up their lingo from previous messages so that I didn't feel like I could predict what they were saying, yet not make it so abstract that coma/dead paranoia would deepen given unfamiliarity = intense time for mates! Always appreciated :)) and/or c) distractions - of any sort! This is why I often looked at my messages and art pieces from students and friends/family, despite my brain lodging them all in the long-term memory bank. Honestly, I cannot stress to you how much my mates & technology helped in those petrifying weeks during hospital. Reflecting on the past three years, it has been an incredible learning journey for myself, as a teacher, to understand more about how we remember and why we forget - free professional development. Furthermore, I have discovered that the best way to win at life is to forget to keep score and that is truly what I'm focusing on with my success now measured by how high I am bouncing after hitting rock bottom.
Not only are the well wishes (below) from one of my lovely British students an absolute tear jerker, but it also gave the nickname of 'Miss Laid' by visiting friends who noticed the accidental misspelling.
Always making my buddies laugh - don't mention it!

GET US THE TISSUES!
How truly remarkable are children?! This was written by a sweet British student in my class in 2012 who I can still vividly recall in my mind. Such thoughtful pupils in Twickenham U.K., my goodness!
Always making my buddies laugh - don't mention it!

GET US THE TISSUES!
How truly remarkable are children?! This was written by a sweet British student in my class in 2012 who I can still vividly recall in my mind. Such thoughtful pupils in Twickenham U.K., my goodness!

When you have lost your mind (figuratively and literally speaking), your life, its progress and your identity, I have realised - firsthand - that you run/sprint to what you sincerely love. Teaching is what I love and these unique well wishes (above and below) showcase why. When you think of your job, it's not often that a copious amount of people from such, would offer you support, but this is all I have received from generous, thoughtful children. After the first stroke, my Queen Emma (a work colleague in UK) would receive letters + sweet, handmade cards (even gift vouchers from the loving and supportive parents!) sent to her home and she'd bring them directly to my depleted self whilst in hospital (thank you, thank you, thank you). My dear former colleagues (who were there when I had Stroke 1.0 at a staff party in mid-2012, where some then took headache-ridden, ghastly-looking Special K to the nearby hospital demanding I be seen. Those stroke smarties surely saved my life!) still send cards, chocolate & British delights my way to show their support and when I worry that I (the master of forgetting) have been forgotten by them, they remind me of my legacy and/or what I mean to them - still, despite oceans away and a broken mind. Just what a struggling stroke survivor needs.
Thank you ever so much for the support, dear Brits!

Below: How Special K does hospital - 'perfect-anatomy' (minus nervous system) compliments (with an overprotective - and perhaps confused - darling big brother). Yes!
"Personality is born out of pain. It is the fire shut up in the flint."
- J. B. Yeats and stroke survivors have personality+!
"People will forget what you said. People will forget what you did. But people will never forget how you made them feel."
American actress, author, dancer, poet and singer - an inspirational all rounder, Maya Angelou knows the value in the feels!





What a sweet Robbie Hart of our world (can I be your Juli-a-ah-ha, Steve Buschemi/best man?!)
During the frightening hospital days (when I would awaken in the wee hours hoping it was all just a nightmare, anxious about being dead/nearing death/in a coma) of the second stroke's initial rehab in late 2012, with my memory retention sitting at a few seconds (no more than five tiny seconds at most due to the mind's 'memory reception office' exploding!), my younger sister had to take on the temporary (here's hoping!) role of 'older sister' (big shoes to fill there, Jack Attack!) and made many of us realise she was more suited to the prestigious role than I.
Well done, dear Jacky Jacky!

Above: On top of memory, spatial and physical effects, the brain damage has meant that I've suffered a mild form of anomic aphasia (simply finding the precise words to accurately express what I want) which has shown to be mostly entertaining for my insightful supporters. Not being able to say as much as I want to has perhaps been welcomed by my little sister who has spent most of her life listening to my chat!
This message is from the initial weeks whilst in hospital where I couldn't find LOL in my compromised mind, so instead, expressed such with an elaborate definition.
How mighty fine is humour when in the darkest of chapters?!
Thank you, Jack Attack!
November 2012
Below: On top of Jack Attack, stroke-smart KTG, (below, writing sacred notes for my anxiety-&-memory-deficient mind!) in particular, was one wise, intuitive PA also living in London who would message her Special K when I had to get ready for a 'hospital date' (always had 'em! You know how it is) over the six weeks hanging out at St George's Hospital, laugh at my morbid hospital tales (who wouldn't when I described a serious procedure *endoscopy - camera down my throat whilst awake!* with a dirty pun or that I had gotten into the wrong bed after dashing to the bathroom for a few short minutes late at night?!) and she would also reassure this frightened brain-damaged Kitty that I wasn't dead nor even in a coma (because I most certainly thought I was!) by bringing in that day's dodgy (the best kind) Metro Newspaper (I was always desperate for fresh news as it calmed my nerves about the supposed coma/death paranoia - Cotard's syndrome is a rare and utterly disturbing disorder where one thinks they are not alive *when they actually are* - which occupied my thoughts initially and was utterly frightening i.e.: Princess Catherine having 'acute morning sickness' was fresh-+-welcomed news for my increasingly-paranoid mind - even the progress in daily weather & politics calmed/deflected the 'lack-of-life' nerves! - I'm sure you can see the logic there) the moment she finished work or after going on a little date with her 'manfriend' (Kitty - The K**kblock forever at your service!).
One of my dear Far-North-Queenslander-abroad buddies in the midst of writing one of her many (hilarious) messages during the very first month post Stroke #2 when I was Special K+ (notes were regarded as 'physical evidence' of her visit & existence as the bi-damaged mind forgot she had, which would then cause death/coma paranoia/anxiety until the early hours - as forgetting was previously so foreign to me and I was acutely aware of such - where I would then require repeat doses of sleeping tablets by the tolerant medical team & St-G offisder, Gilly). Here, in this notebook I kept permanently by my side, she (and many others) would offer her unique brand of support and humour when she would regularly come into hospital every couple of days with her special 'lipgloss' aka baby nappy rash cream *see below* - quite effective on your lips (how did she find that out?!)! Dear Katie also 'got me' - which is occasionally hard for others to achieve (as I'm sure you yourself have experienced in your own life) - some people spend years trying to grasp such an enigma (yes, an enigma!), think they have this Special K all pegged, only to then realise they have no idea. Being young, I do understand that some souls are simply too preoccupied in their own 'bubble' to concern themselves with the lives and minds of others. Nevermind - I've got pumpers like the extraordinary KTG to so selflessly fill me with endorphins!


Irreverent wit certainly is
our forte`!


Above: These messages have been shared to help others try to grasp how intense, frightening and awfully challenging an experience it was as a two-time 20-something stroke survivor (+ as a stroke survivor supporter!) fearing death whilst suffering newfound adverse stroke effects (a slow, confusing and devastating journey - albeit enlightening - for the brain-damaged souls) and experiencing daunting-&-overwhelming tests during the initial weeks in hospital (i.e.: forgetting which bed was mine in a room of just a few after a brief dash to the loo *British lingo down pat!* should give you a clear understanding of just how severe my short-term memory loss was! It's getting better :)). You will not only notice instances where the brain damage is noticeable in text form (i.e.: 'laugh with sound' *instead of LOL* is a mild example of aphasia *especially in this present day!*- a common stroke effect), but you will also see it was quite the opportune time for my friends and I to make jokes about the concerning and confronting situation (whyyyyy did doctors insist on shoving a camera down my throat?! Friends seemed to enjoy my angst about such so I guess it did serve a purpose in the end!) - I'm still not sure whether that is the British or Australian humour shining... Both! We embraced my Bill Murray inspired shaved head (in the end, it was barely noticeable, but buddies generally did enjoy my mind's colourful concoction of a hair extension to cover the shaved section as it would have been a totally-unnecessary vanity piece! My mind is forever making up fictitious experiences when I sleep that are at times hard to decipher between reality when I'm awake - I'm sure some people have experienced this without brain injuries...Perhaps after a few too many stroke-smart blood-thinning red wines?! Thank you to patient family + friends for always honouring my intellect & sanity by taking such brain-damage effects with a grain of salt).
"You will always be too much of something for someone: Too big, too loud, too soft, too edgy. If you round out your edges, your lose your edge."
- Entrepreneur Danielle LaPorte also appreciates shining individuality
Thank you for being there with your wit, dear pumps, especially Jack Attack!
"There are two types of people - those who come into a room & say, 'Well, here I am!' & those who come in & say,
'Ah, there you are.'"
- author Frederick L. Collins along with my supportive, witty Kitty Klubbers, in particular, surely know the value in making others feel cherished
- author Frederick L. Collins along with my supportive, witty Kitty Klubbers, in particular, surely know the value in making others feel cherished
The Little Treasure, below, is my (real-life!) little sister (currently promoted to PA) who has ensured to continuously pump a brain-damaged Special K with endorphins through her continuous A+ support, thorough reliable research, clear perspective, wicked humour, warm company, chocolate treats and TEDx Talk sidekick duties.
An invaluable asset/sidekick to have in life after surviving stroke.
An invaluable asset/sidekick to have in life after surviving stroke.

What a sweet Robbie Hart of our world (can I be your Juli-a-ah-ha, Steve Buschemi/best man?!)
During the frightening hospital days (when I would awaken in the wee hours hoping it was all just a nightmare, anxious about being dead/nearing death/in a coma) of the second stroke's initial rehab in late 2012, with my memory retention sitting at a few seconds (no more than five tiny seconds at most due to the mind's 'memory reception office' exploding!), my younger sister had to take on the temporary (here's hoping!) role of 'older sister' (big shoes to fill there, Jack Attack!) and made many of us realise she was more suited to the prestigious role than I.
Well done, dear Jacky Jacky!

Above: On top of memory, spatial and physical effects, the brain damage has meant that I've suffered a mild form of anomic aphasia (simply finding the precise words to accurately express what I want) which has shown to be mostly entertaining for my insightful supporters. Not being able to say as much as I want to has perhaps been welcomed by my little sister who has spent most of her life listening to my chat!
This message is from the initial weeks whilst in hospital where I couldn't find LOL in my compromised mind, so instead, expressed such with an elaborate definition.
How mighty fine is humour when in the darkest of chapters?!
Thank you, Jack Attack!
November 2012
Below: On top of Jack Attack, stroke-smart KTG, (below, writing sacred notes for my anxiety-&-memory-deficient mind!) in particular, was one wise, intuitive PA also living in London who would message her Special K when I had to get ready for a 'hospital date' (always had 'em! You know how it is) over the six weeks hanging out at St George's Hospital, laugh at my morbid hospital tales (who wouldn't when I described a serious procedure *endoscopy - camera down my throat whilst awake!* with a dirty pun or that I had gotten into the wrong bed after dashing to the bathroom for a few short minutes late at night?!) and she would also reassure this frightened brain-damaged Kitty that I wasn't dead nor even in a coma (because I most certainly thought I was!) by bringing in that day's dodgy (the best kind) Metro Newspaper (I was always desperate for fresh news as it calmed my nerves about the supposed coma/death paranoia - Cotard's syndrome is a rare and utterly disturbing disorder where one thinks they are not alive *when they actually are* - which occupied my thoughts initially and was utterly frightening i.e.: Princess Catherine having 'acute morning sickness' was fresh-+-welcomed news for my increasingly-paranoid mind - even the progress in daily weather & politics calmed/deflected the 'lack-of-life' nerves! - I'm sure you can see the logic there) the moment she finished work or after going on a little date with her 'manfriend' (Kitty - The K**kblock forever at your service!).
One of my dear Far-North-Queenslander-abroad buddies in the midst of writing one of her many (hilarious) messages during the very first month post Stroke #2 when I was Special K+ (notes were regarded as 'physical evidence' of her visit & existence as the bi-damaged mind forgot she had, which would then cause death/coma paranoia/anxiety until the early hours - as forgetting was previously so foreign to me and I was acutely aware of such - where I would then require repeat doses of sleeping tablets by the tolerant medical team & St-G offisder, Gilly). Here, in this notebook I kept permanently by my side, she (and many others) would offer her unique brand of support and humour when she would regularly come into hospital every couple of days with her special 'lipgloss' aka baby nappy rash cream *see below* - quite effective on your lips (how did she find that out?!)! Dear Katie also 'got me' - which is occasionally hard for others to achieve (as I'm sure you yourself have experienced in your own life) - some people spend years trying to grasp such an enigma (yes, an enigma!), think they have this Special K all pegged, only to then realise they have no idea. Being young, I do understand that some souls are simply too preoccupied in their own 'bubble' to concern themselves with the lives and minds of others. Nevermind - I've got pumpers like the extraordinary KTG to so selflessly fill me with endorphins!
November 2012

Prime examples of KTG's unique sense of hospital humour during the birthweek/month in the Neuro Ward
St George's Hospital, London
November 2012
(Three weeks post Stroke 2)

Prime examples of KTG's unique sense of hospital humour during the birthweek/month in the Neuro Ward
St George's Hospital, London
November 2012
(Three weeks post Stroke 2)
Highly recommend this unique, refreshing approach if ever you are confronted with an unwell friend.
Brilliantly explaining how the invasive brain biopsy would go down (as I thought I was about to die when given fatality statistics *1% chance - understandably, I had little faith in myself then!* and if I magically survived, would have a completely shaven head, which actually caused some 'friends' to start laughing at merely thinking about how funny I'd look - good mates!). The (supposed) imminent death consumed my thoughts (as I'm sure other stroke survivors can relate - we have little faith in our abilities at living despite surviving a terrifying ordeal and mass loss of neurons) and these sort of witty messages were exactly what the doctor ordered. In hindsight, they seemed to relish in joining in on teasing my situation!

Above: Dear KTG ensured my lips were always moisturised with baby-butt-rash cream whilst in hospital.
Thank you Miss G!
They were as soft as a baby's butt (pun intended), sure, but what made her put the butt cream on her lips in the first place?! Always a hoot with KTG!

Above: Getting plenty of kisses for being Irish-ish in Dublin with my dear KTG
Can you tell I was vastly unhealthy with an autoimmune disease about to wreak havoc (apart from the mighty pint of Guinness/Irish medicine), a ticking time bomb, just a few months away from the two devastating massive strokes, being on the edge of death & impending full-time care?!
Brilliantly explaining how the invasive brain biopsy would go down (as I thought I was about to die when given fatality statistics *1% chance - understandably, I had little faith in myself then!* and if I magically survived, would have a completely shaven head, which actually caused some 'friends' to start laughing at merely thinking about how funny I'd look - good mates!). The (supposed) imminent death consumed my thoughts (as I'm sure other stroke survivors can relate - we have little faith in our abilities at living despite surviving a terrifying ordeal and mass loss of neurons) and these sort of witty messages were exactly what the doctor ordered. In hindsight, they seemed to relish in joining in on teasing my situation!

Above: Dear KTG ensured my lips were always moisturised with baby-butt-rash cream whilst in hospital.
Thank you Miss G!
They were as soft as a baby's butt (pun intended), sure, but what made her put the butt cream on her lips in the first place?! Always a hoot with KTG!

Above: Getting plenty of kisses for being Irish-ish in Dublin with my dear KTG
Can you tell I was vastly unhealthy with an autoimmune disease about to wreak havoc (apart from the mighty pint of Guinness/Irish medicine), a ticking time bomb, just a few months away from the two devastating massive strokes, being on the edge of death & impending full-time care?!
If we could turn back time (to also enjoy St Paddy's Day in Ireland together all over again!)
BIG NEWS!
BIG NEWS!
Recently, I discovered the Emergency Medical ID on my smart phone (it can be a stroke survivor's bestie - thank you 21st century!) which quickly lets others access your necessary personal information required in a health emergency (thankfully, they don't even need to know the passcode as the handy Medical ID can be found at the bottom left corner of the Emergency section when phone is locked).
Every person should have this helpful feature enabled so please get that one sorted, stroke smarties.
Such vital medical information could save a life when time is of the essence.
Elaine's manfriend on Seinfeld certainly would have benefited from an Emergency-Medical ID section (seen above) on his smart phone & perhaps this episode
- which is Jerry Seinfeld's least favourite episode for how they ignorantly handled someone in a medical emergency - would have had a different, more aware, scene with an appropriate stroke-smart (+ stroke-survivor-sensitive) ending. Far better jokes too!
Elaine's manfriend on Seinfeld certainly would have benefited from an Emergency-Medical ID section (seen above) on his smart phone & perhaps this episode
- which is Jerry Seinfeld's least favourite episode for how they ignorantly handled someone in a medical emergency - would have had a different, more aware, scene with an appropriate stroke-smart (+ stroke-survivor-sensitive) ending. Far better jokes too!

Time lost = brain lost!
"You may have to fight a battle more than once to win it."
~ former UK Prime Minister and fellow stroke sufferer, Iron-lady Margaret Thatcher, would appreciate a two-time stroke survivor's battle to victory (perhaps that was her above remark's inference).

Above: This image offers a small glimpse into my life's first six weeks as a two-time brain-damaged Kitty (well my feet taking it easy on my little bed, at least!) where I'm having one of my daily bedside hang outs with a dear 'Kitty Top-5 Volunteer P.A' recipient (your acknowledgement plaque and Kitty-Koupons are in the mail, kind sir! MEOW!) who would regularly come into creepy ole hospital after work (and at a ghastly transport zone *3*) to give receipts (evidence/IOU slips - he, the banker, insisted on such serious bookkeeping of my life's expenses that he was looking after for myself in brain's absence. I trusted him with my entire life and never actually looked at the receipts he brought in - probably should have! Just kidding) of his banking transactions (rent, bills, holiday payments - whatever in my life needed to be sorted, he was on it. PB told everyone hounding me for money during those initial months when I was incapable of such sophisticated thinking to instead contact him directly. Boom!) processed on my account (even when I couldn't recall any cards' pins nor Internet banking details = short-term memory kinda stuff, he paid for it all until my mind eventually recalled information. Besties for life!). As payment for his competent PA abilities and a way to show my immense gratitude, I'd entertain him with my unique wit (seen below), let him steal my chocolate treats (as in, insist he took whatever I had *and I always 'had'* as I'd forget he stole it just a few minutes later anyway) and/or allow him to whinge about his sore feet from new work shoes ('English-Whinger' assimilation is now complete!).
PB was such an ideal PA that he ought to teach other PAs/therapists out there in the stroke-survivor world!
PB was such an ideal PA that he ought to teach other PAs/therapists out there in the stroke-survivor world!
St George's Hospital - Neuro Ward
Tooting, United Kingdom
December, 2012
Tooting, United Kingdom
December, 2012
"If you don't learn to laugh at troubles, you won't have anything to laugh at when you grow old."
- American novelist and newspaper/magazine editor, Ed Howe, likes to go with the flow too
Below: Mere moments after waking from brain biopsy surgery and already, friends are having a joke at my expense! I joined in - you've got to!
- American novelist and newspaper/magazine editor, Ed Howe, likes to go with the flow too
Below: Mere moments after waking from brain biopsy surgery and already, friends are having a joke at my expense! I joined in - you've got to!

St George's Hospital London UK
December 2012
We surely laughed at my particular woes with the vast amount of supportive (in my eyes) words I regularly received from one of the initial PAs, PB, in particular, where we both were teasing my newly-shaven head mere moments after I had woken from invasive (understatement) brain surgery in December 2012 (several weeks after the second stroke struck and before immediate family had arrived to Kitty kollect). Friends have actually laughed about the shaved skull's spot (+ hole) more than I had previously anticipated! Even the ones that didn't get to see it were having a laugh, sending messages about their laughter merely thinking about how amusing I'd look with a shaved head! Always making people laugh - even when I'm petrified of death. Boom!
Because of the short-term memory loss that hit my mind in late 2012, friends would frequently receive messages from their Special K, repeating what I had already told/asked them (and had forgotten - what's new?!) or simply needing some of their renowned reassurance that I was still alive, that whatever happens I was to return to London one day, that they were my friend to the very end and that my work, in particular, were not angry at their Aussie employee for having a first/second stroke (they were in fact, supportive and still are!). Given the severe short-term memory loss (around 99% *no exaggeration* of my day was forgotten within seconds initially after Stroke 2), I was unaware that I had swapped notes with my Klubbers earlier, yet still had an urge to do so. Unsurprisingly, the sincere, supportive souls like Mother Duck, Jack Attack, KTG, Dan the Man, Sarah, Simon, Brent, Aaron, Curt, Tim-Pimp, P-Loser (term of endearment),+ many more), have always entertained regular Chitty-Chat correspondence (that is lessening - hip hip hooray for them!), soothing the confusion and anxiety post brain damage.
Here's to you!
Above: This image of a note given to my friend (which I took a photo of with stroke's right hand *wo*man, the smart phone, to promptly send to them), the dutiful PA, during the frightening early hospital days displays how little control & responsibility I had of my life during my late 20s (where one's health, independence + prospects are flourishing). As I'm confident you can appreciate, I am eternally grateful to have had the two strokes after the smart phone was created (thanks Kitty-brain) and also to have family + mates who took on their new carer roles with pride (don't even deny your pride, pumps!). Simply remembering to give people notes/messages (explaining my options for the future in this particular image, above, as the medical staff who visited during the day *when it wasn't visiting hours* knew I couldn't retain whatever they said - yet they still told me, perhaps out of respect) was beyond my short-term-memory capabilities after a general lapse of just a few seconds and I'd most likely lose the physical notes before visitors had come given brain damage, so photos were often sent via text and email to my PAs. It certainly showcases the extent your life instantly changes (and how dependent I was on certain friends in handling any/all communication from the medical team - they all knew my passwords and pins for everything! Probably still do! Massive creeps/thank you!) after a stroke strikes (I'm not a special case here!), where I had the same abilities (/inabilities) as a toddler (no exaggeration) and needed full-time assistance. Because of the chronic memory loss (you may recall, without 'seahorse of the mind', hippocampus, which controls emotions, memory & quick, successful conflict resolution, my short-term memory retention was the worst the docs had ever seen! Gold-star-sticker worthy!), simple Kitty Questions (even who I lived with was an initial surprise to me - two English lads who were incredibly supportive while I was stuck in hospital. Thank you dear ole roomie chaps, Oli & Matt!) required physical notes written by all parties concerned (I was like the 'postie' in such a process! Our 'Postman Pat' upgraded to 'PA Pat' during stroke rehabilitation!). Initially, I was told I had acquired a viral infection resulting in inflammation of the brain known as encephalitis (similar symptoms to one given severe short term memory loss and can be the result of your immune system mistakenly attacking the brain - an auto-immune disease is still being blamed *with no concrete evidence* for 2012's strokes) and treated for such which meant the second stroke was not handled appropriately nor swiftly (out of my control!) - much like the first stroke, three months earlier (when it was also out of my control) and is part of the reason why the rehab (+ notes for supportive PAs) for both strokes is still ongoing - three years later.
Positive = Pumps 'get to be' my PAs!
*'Call 911' applicable for USA. Stroke Heroes in Australia call 000
Finally, on Day 10 of Hospital Vacay (& during my birthweek!) where I was confident death was over just knocking and was about to smash down the door of my life, the second stroke was acknowledged (after it had certainly finished its destructible war path without being stopped with medical assistance in the tiny 'seahorse of the brain' *hippocampus* deep inside, hence why it took so long to identify it) and its cause was later deduced (not identified) during the five weeks spent at hospital via a cerebral angiogram (that too had a risk of further strokes you have to agree to the test after being told the risks - it wasn't as scary as the '1% risk of death' they more or less broadcast and 'drill into your mind' *pun intended* before you agree to the invasive brain biopsy! Thank you to the mates who always focused on the 99% chance of survival - decorating my notebook I kept permanently by my side with such positive pieces of maths!) as vasculitis (the cause for 2012's strokes was incredibly rare as there were no obvious results from standard tests and my stroke risk was previously considered, 'low' - let that be a lesson to those who think they are immune to strokes! - my British doctor back in Australia now doesn't believe I have such a disease as he has noticed a recent trend in warped vasculitis assumptions + there have been no further strokes for this brilliant brain!), but given my mind's woes, I kept thinking it was still 'just' a virus known as encephalitis (what was initially presumed to be the cause of my severe short-term memory loss)! As a result, everyone (medical staff that were paid to do so + my dear supporters who did it for free out of love and perhaps genuine adoration!) was forced to regularly/repetitively explain what actually in fact happened to my mind in the end and they did so with such patience and humility that I am truly honoured to (still) be their mate. There was one particular occasion where I recall a dear mate having to (again) explain that it was another stroke and I had to have a little time-out to 'cry it out' (...again and again given memory loss. Thank you to the pumps for being the mightiest pillars of support during those stroke struggles). Never mind this brain-damaged soul - I forgot the sheer agony and anguish just a few seconds/minutes later - but it was excruciatingly intense and heartbreaking for my kind Klubbers to witness a sore-+-swollen Kitty-Brain going kaput and many have since told me that they'd cry after every hospital visit for they too felt what I felt, yet they couldn't fix the problem with death being a frightening possibility creeping around waiting for the opportune moment to strike. Quality eggs hanging in there (+ paying any of my bills and doing all my washing/listening to my chat & giving advice + anecdotes/contacting all the necessary people/bringing in chocolate, underwear, PJs and daily newspapers to a ghastly travel zone that always cost them more on public transport!) when it was such an intense and devastating occasion for them (a young person supporting a fellow whipper snapper who may very well die or at the very least, have confronting disabilities from waking up on a day off whilst in their 20s) to deal with. True heroes!
"A performer spends her life using her voice in a career where there is no stutter.
Language and music are inexplicably linked through this one thing and this thing is I have a stutter.
It might seem curious given I spend most my life on the stage.
One would assume I am comfortable in the public sphere and comfortable speaking to you guys, but the truth is that I've lived my whole life - up to this point and including this point - living in mortal dread of public speaking. Public singing; whole different thing."
Below: Fellow Aussie battler (you beauty!) singer-songwriter, Megan Washington - a fellow TEDx Talk alumni - who is representing strength and courage by being one who showcases her weakness known as Persistent Developmental Stuttering *PDS* which directly affects around 1 in 100 of society (that, much like Australia's proactive Stroke-a-Chord choir *we do love a pun!* members suffering from aphasia, has found a loophole to lift the stuffer). Being a proactive soul, Washington has worked out she can 'trick' her mind into successful speech delivery by using 'brain games' on the ultimate public level where she intertwines music that uses a different part of her mind to help eliminate her stutter - a smart strategy she refers to as 'smooth speech' and likens it to how a kindergarten teacher may talk to their students
Language and music are inexplicably linked through this one thing and this thing is I have a stutter.
It might seem curious given I spend most my life on the stage.
One would assume I am comfortable in the public sphere and comfortable speaking to you guys, but the truth is that I've lived my whole life - up to this point and including this point - living in mortal dread of public speaking. Public singing; whole different thing."
Below: Fellow Aussie battler (you beauty!) singer-songwriter, Megan Washington - a fellow TEDx Talk alumni - who is representing strength and courage by being one who showcases her weakness known as Persistent Developmental Stuttering *PDS* which directly affects around 1 in 100 of society (that, much like Australia's proactive Stroke-a-Chord choir *we do love a pun!* members suffering from aphasia, has found a loophole to lift the stuffer). Being a proactive soul, Washington has worked out she can 'trick' her mind into successful speech delivery by using 'brain games' on the ultimate public level where she intertwines music that uses a different part of her mind to help eliminate her stutter - a smart strategy she refers to as 'smooth speech' and likens it to how a kindergarten teacher may talk to their students
Washington lived in hope that when she was a 'grown-up' she wouldn't have the stutter; although what has transpired surely would be considered as progress. Anything is possible when you have the right attitude & Washington surely does have such. During the Ted Talk, Washington also discusses how she tends to stutter with proper nouns, in particular, which is similar to my particular form of aphasia that meant I couldn't find the precise words, so I'd say 'run in a fast manner' when I simply wanted to express 'sprint' and 'laugh with sound' when I obviously wanted 'LOL' (and when corrected, felt as relieved as taking your shoes off after a long day spent on your feet)!
Washington found that using smooth speech that intertwines singing into her daily chat brought her 'sweet relief. It is the only time when I feel fluent' (YES! Let's promote that!). During her own TEDx Talk (kopy Kitty-Kat?!), the stutter is present at times, yet so is her humour + radiant spirit and when Washington sings, the stutter certainly is lifted through her smooth speech technique that utilises her mind's hemispheres from a different perspective than talking and tricks her brain's hemispheres by joining all the words together like a "kindergarten teacher" - quite similar to Stroke a Chord (we do love our puns!). Washington uses this intriguing technique for interviews, for example, where she may sound to others like she's on Valium (her words!).
What an innovative inspiration!

Appreciating the minds of others takes a decent human being and MW certainly warms your heart with her unique humour, spirit and tenacity. Washington's 2014 TEDx Talk presented in Sydney which highlights her PDS and the magic of music in conquering a refreshing and insightful piece.
Washington showcasing her magical mind's abilities at a TEDx Talk
(all the rad sorts are doing them!)
Below: TED-talking about strokes (a how-to on getting the blokes?!) - looks serious. 

"Anything is possible. If you have enough nerve"
- acclaimed British author J.K. Rowling is one inspirational + wise soul.
- acclaimed British author J.K. Rowling is one inspirational + wise soul.
Despite particularly losing billions of neurons after the two strokes, my nervous system still has plenty left to be the driving force behind rehab - anything is possible with the salvaged neurons - just look at J.K + tennis great Rod Laver, The Streets' main man Mike Skinner, actress Sharon Stone, singer Jessie J (credits having a stroke as a teenager for giving her the push to succeed. Here's to you, JJ!), insightful neuroanatomist Jill Bolte-Taylor (fellow TED Talk alumni), my very own Mother Duck (the wise mental-health registered nurse who had a stroke while also in her 20s), British journalist Euan Ferguson and fellow young stroke survivor sister from Australia's FNQ, always-supportive Emma G, to name only a few stroke survivors who showcase optimum stroke survival with a decent quality of life is indeed feasible. Boom!
You may have started to realise through reading this particular blog (good on you!) or watching my li'l sister/supporter, Jack Attack, and I presenting a TEDx Talk (what was saved from microphone malfunction), through government initiatives (such as the gruesome 'silent-killer' ad that was banned in Australia - where we have on average 60 000 strokes a year, occurring in every single postcode Down Under *15 million strokes a year worldwide - 1/3 instantly die & 1/3 are permanently disabled with 1/2 of the initial survivors not making it more than five years* - due to its graphic nature), personal emails and/or if you are fortunate (<<operative word!), through physically meeting and interacting with my Special-K brain-damaged self, this particular life chapter of mine is indeed a flaming (Alf Stewart eat your heart out!) tragedy in one's prime years of life, but it also has provided enormous strength and resolve; I (& so have my splendid supporters) have realised I want to live. Perhaps more importantly, it has also given insightful perspective to people all around me who now have a broader understanding of our magical minds and human beings as a whole. How spectacular is that?! Without a doubt, the past three years have certainly tested the strength and priorities of a range of people who have eaten a decent dose of humble pie with myself (perhaps even stealing it off my very own plate! There's a first :)) & reflected on their own lives and the world around us. Together, we've been forced to actively search for the gifts in life's imperfections and struggles, embracing such with utter pride (more people have touched the 'burr hole' still/always evident at the back of my head, recycled the witty jokes I so perfectly delivered and written in the memory-aiding Special-K notebook than you've had hot dinners!).
The stumbling blocks that could have caused (and does cause) a fragile stroke survivor to crash and burn have ultimately served as stepping stones in my particular journey (thank goodness for the mind's determination for staying intact after both strokes!) where attitude has stepped in and tenacity has override the alluring stroke-desire to just 'give up'. If there wasn't a supportive network in place, life would be completely different (utterly horrible, in fact) and if the strokes have taught me anything, it is that the people you hold dear (and hold you dear!) are the Roger Federer to the Novak Djokovic - perfect match (pun intended. Not sorry). Currently, I'm in my late 20s where all of my peers are thriving in their prime and progressing in their life's ultimate endeavours, yet I now am constantly focused on just staying alive, annoying petty reminders, writing notes in a book at school (so I don't ask otherwise-stupid, simple + repetitive questions to the supportive staff) and sympathetic assistance from people who once knew (and presumably, adored) myself as an independent, happy-go-lucky Kitty. While this is upsetting at times, true success is often reflected as how high you ricochet after you hit rock bottom, so much like forgetful Dory from Finding Nemo, I've got to just keep on swimming. In retrospect, I - and many other stroke survivors out there - have basically been a state-of-the-art rocket flying into outer space since the 'blasted' (pun intended) strokes! In (two-time) stroke rehab, my supporters' and my particular shared mindset has always been on progress & the setting of ambitious goals (i.e.: TEDx Talk with a Curiosity theme and back at school for full days to name two major goals achieved *to a two-time stroke survivor* for 2015 alone!). Upon returning to Australia in late 2012 after the two strokes caused severe ramifications and we were concerned about more strokes and/or death, 2013 + 2014's (almost) daily confronting therapy sessions focused on making sure I (the young adult) was 'safe' at home with my newfound/regained carer, dear Mother Duck, providing various opportunities for the mind to try regenerate neural pathways (around the two cerebral infarctions blocking the road in 'there'!), ensuring to get plentiful sleep in order for optimal mind healing (fatigue was incredibly overwhelming after both strokes *still is - at a lesser extent* and hard for some to grasp as it isn't a superficial effect you can visually see), taking life 'easy' as we were all concerned a third stroke would strike (causing further disabilities or dying as a result, the confronting odds were glaringly in death's favour) and testing a range of simple strategies most of us aced in primary school to identify my learning obstacles in the strokes' wake.
You may have started to realise through reading this particular blog (good on you!) or watching my li'l sister/supporter, Jack Attack, and I presenting a TEDx Talk (what was saved from microphone malfunction), through government initiatives (such as the gruesome 'silent-killer' ad that was banned in Australia - where we have on average 60 000 strokes a year, occurring in every single postcode Down Under *15 million strokes a year worldwide - 1/3 instantly die & 1/3 are permanently disabled with 1/2 of the initial survivors not making it more than five years* - due to its graphic nature), personal emails and/or if you are fortunate (<<operative word!), through physically meeting and interacting with my Special-K brain-damaged self, this particular life chapter of mine is indeed a flaming (Alf Stewart eat your heart out!) tragedy in one's prime years of life, but it also has provided enormous strength and resolve; I (& so have my splendid supporters) have realised I want to live. Perhaps more importantly, it has also given insightful perspective to people all around me who now have a broader understanding of our magical minds and human beings as a whole. How spectacular is that?! Without a doubt, the past three years have certainly tested the strength and priorities of a range of people who have eaten a decent dose of humble pie with myself (perhaps even stealing it off my very own plate! There's a first :)) & reflected on their own lives and the world around us. Together, we've been forced to actively search for the gifts in life's imperfections and struggles, embracing such with utter pride (more people have touched the 'burr hole' still/always evident at the back of my head, recycled the witty jokes I so perfectly delivered and written in the memory-aiding Special-K notebook than you've had hot dinners!).
The stumbling blocks that could have caused (and does cause) a fragile stroke survivor to crash and burn have ultimately served as stepping stones in my particular journey (thank goodness for the mind's determination for staying intact after both strokes!) where attitude has stepped in and tenacity has override the alluring stroke-desire to just 'give up'. If there wasn't a supportive network in place, life would be completely different (utterly horrible, in fact) and if the strokes have taught me anything, it is that the people you hold dear (and hold you dear!) are the Roger Federer to the Novak Djokovic - perfect match (pun intended. Not sorry). Currently, I'm in my late 20s where all of my peers are thriving in their prime and progressing in their life's ultimate endeavours, yet I now am constantly focused on just staying alive, annoying petty reminders, writing notes in a book at school (so I don't ask otherwise-stupid, simple + repetitive questions to the supportive staff) and sympathetic assistance from people who once knew (and presumably, adored) myself as an independent, happy-go-lucky Kitty. While this is upsetting at times, true success is often reflected as how high you ricochet after you hit rock bottom, so much like forgetful Dory from Finding Nemo, I've got to just keep on swimming. In retrospect, I - and many other stroke survivors out there - have basically been a state-of-the-art rocket flying into outer space since the 'blasted' (pun intended) strokes! In (two-time) stroke rehab, my supporters' and my particular shared mindset has always been on progress & the setting of ambitious goals (i.e.: TEDx Talk with a Curiosity theme and back at school for full days to name two major goals achieved *to a two-time stroke survivor* for 2015 alone!). Upon returning to Australia in late 2012 after the two strokes caused severe ramifications and we were concerned about more strokes and/or death, 2013 + 2014's (almost) daily confronting therapy sessions focused on making sure I (the young adult) was 'safe' at home with my newfound/regained carer, dear Mother Duck, providing various opportunities for the mind to try regenerate neural pathways (around the two cerebral infarctions blocking the road in 'there'!), ensuring to get plentiful sleep in order for optimal mind healing (fatigue was incredibly overwhelming after both strokes *still is - at a lesser extent* and hard for some to grasp as it isn't a superficial effect you can visually see), taking life 'easy' as we were all concerned a third stroke would strike (causing further disabilities or dying as a result, the confronting odds were glaringly in death's favour) and testing a range of simple strategies most of us aced in primary school to identify my learning obstacles in the strokes' wake.
These newfound-+-gruelling (to the stroke survivor) examinations included simply following instructions, finding your pen you put down a few minutes earlier in another room (wahhh!), cooking typical meals (countless alarms and instructions galore for roasts, in particular! Thankfully, risottos + cookies, for instant example, require less alarms *'hot' tip!*, focusing more on your individually-acquired timing & rhythm so I definitely prefer cooking them, old favourites - so does MD!) & going to the grocery store to collect a few items you realised you needed back at home and had actively noted (figuratively in your mind) just ten minutes earlier (hard, hard, hard for memory-lacking Special K!), recalling the mere 3-5 items on a mental shopping list (that would typically hang out in your brain's hippocampus), paying for such (we - my PAs and I - have all discovered that remembering various bank-card pins can be difficult for myself if I am fatigued, but we now have effective strategies in place - even apps support such! Get on board, fellow stroke survivors and memory-lacking sorts!) and successfully getting back to the rehabilitation room just a skip across the road at the hospital (with an OT to help in a 'brain-damaged-style emergency'!).
Strokes, despite celebrating small victories you've since achieved that others would find ridiculous (such as the rehabilitation 'tests' you'd also see showcased in a nursery school), definitely offer perspective, appreciation & humility where I'm now solely about what I can do to help my life change for the better, ultimately improving the selfless & splendid supporters' lives too (do try these >> clever websites aimed at complementing and enhancing your meaty brain and also including renowned mindfulness practice of meditation even on-the-go <<do check out this list of meditation apps, busy 21st-century superstars!) for your brain training which has the power of moulding the mind to install the changes we want *boom!* by synchronising the two hemispheres and taking the yogi into alpha brain wave patterns of a pre-sleep state which is said to alter moods, clear up emotional problems such as attention, anxiety, depression, fear and anger + produce a calmer, more relaxed state, utilise more of the brain's capacity, employ whole brain thinking and even promote the body to heal itself. Definitely effects we all could do with more of in our lives - sign us up today! Yes!)
Here are a selection of clever apps just for you that complement 21st-century mindfulness on the go -
1. Headspace
2. Smiling Mind
3. Calm
4. Mindfulness Daily
5. Buddhify 2
1. Headspace
2. Smiling Mind
3. Calm
4. Mindfulness Daily
5. Buddhify 2
Let's boost our brains with mindful meditation - damaged or not. Smiling-Mind app makes it simple!
I'm sold, are you?! Do read this article about meditation apps if you want more information :).
These Stroke Survivor's Bill of Rights provides insight into what to expect in the aftermath of stroke for a survivor.
Please do take it in - being a good mate who listens + is patient, thoughtful, positive, witty, sympathetic and appreciates life littered with jokes is far better than getting all the blokes post strokes!

*SNAFU: A problem that makes a situation difficult or confusing
(#6 is to be taken seriously, please)
Meow!

*SNAFU: A problem that makes a situation difficult or confusing
(#6 is to be taken seriously, please)
Meow!