The first December

It’s been too long since there was a proper update to the “Stroke Story”. Let’s find out what I can remember.

I’ve begun to realize how much I’ve forgotten or don’t quite fully remember. The five months that I was in the Challenge program at TIRR are a blurry jumble of memories that I can’t quite seem to get into proper order. For example, I have a memory of sitting in my wheelchair at a table in the lunch room with Adam’s mother, shoving earbuds into my ears because I was still too uncomfortable with my speech to hold a conversation, and the next memory I have is of walking out of the same lunch room in a walker. Sequencing events seems to be a little screwy, and it’s not a problem that I noticed earlier in my recovery. I’m not even going to try to get my memories of the first half of last year in order. I don’t think that I can, and I really just want to get what I do remember written out so I don’t forget them. Let’s just say that it’s become apparent that my memory was impacted by the stroke a bit more heavily than originally thought.

Now to backtrack just a bit. Toward the beginning of December, around a week after I was discharged from the inpatient facility, Adam’s company held its yearly holiday party. Adam had told me that we didn’t need to attend if I wasn’t feeling up to it. So of course I said that I would be fine.
The day of the party arrived and I spent the majority of it hoping that my legs would suddenly obey me and I wouldn’t have to go in my wheelchair. I wished for it so badly.
Adam finally announced that it was time to begin getting ready. Now? But we have hours to go. I hadn’t gotten used to taking two hours to shower, followed by a bit over an hour to dress and groom. On top of that, I required assistance through all of it, and Adam would still need to shower and dress after me. That meant 5.5-6 hours just to shower and dress.
We eventually parked in the restaurant parking lot. I wore a purple top that I would only wear once; I lost weight too rapidly to wear things more than a few times. It was so cold that night, or at least it was to me. Adam pushed my wheelchair across the

I’m tired. More later.

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