Sunday, June 10, 2018

Lost for Words

most people have played the game
asking, what would be worse -
to go blind or deaf?
my answers have varied
over the decades
and sometimes
i also think about smell
and touch and taste

but now i know
the worst loss for me
is not one of the
six senses
but something
i didn't realise
was even a thing -
that has no name

there are times
since the clot
wedged in my brain
killing off cells
when i cannot
comprehend words
spoken clearly
but incomprehensibly

there are times
when i feel the feels
but cannot say the words
nor even think the words
that describe the feels
when i feel my brain
crumple up like
newspaper under kindling

and my right leg kicks out
and my right arm suddenly
shoots out sideways
knocking my cup over
and i know i have to leave
but it's so hard to stand
but still easier done
than said.....

I was 'lucky' that my stroke was not a severe one, but I had a bad day on Saturday when I went to a friend's 70th birthday lunch at a cafe. Most people do not see anything very different about me these days, and some days I even feel completely 'normal' (as in, the way I did pre-stroke.) But on Saturday at the cafe, there were so many people talking, and kitchen noise, and piped music with a constant base thunk thunk thunk and the autistic kid opposite me was coping by stimming - god I wish I could get comfort from stimming - which involved kicking my chair leg fast and rhythmically but not the same rhythm as the music and suddenly I stopped being able to make sense of the words someone was saying and I couldn't find any words to tell them and my brain lost control of my hand and it shot sideways and knocked something over - fortunately not something that made a mess - and I had to flee - if my stumbling outside can be described as 'fleeing'! 

And this morning I am sitting here filled with anxiety as I wait to see if I will make it through until 5.15pm without having another stroke, to see if I can make it to 6 months. And feeling anxiety rising in my gut, and my old familiar (50 years) depression pressing in and just needing to say all this to someone, somewhere who won't just say, pull yourself together, get dressed and go feed the ducks and chooks and dog and get on with what life you have left..... 

So thank you if you read this far - all I really needed was to have the words and say them and know that someone really heard me.


debra said...

I am here, Cally <3

Cally said...

Thank you Debra :-)