Another baby step…

Today I saw a Speech Pathologist. A friend who works in Cardiology in Calgary had suggested this to me. Apparently, These folks can help with reading problems as well as with problems of speech. Today was an assessment. Turns out that she can, indeed, help me with re-learning to read. I have exercises to do that will help focus, and me slow down and thus regain some confidence as fresh neural pathways are created in my brain. Quite fascinating.

Of course, the danger is that I will get too excited about this, and raise my blood pressure…a bad thing. I carried groceries downstairs this afternoon, and only when I reached the basement fridge did I realize that I was breathing hard. Too much strain. Learning to slow down, pace myself, is really difficult for me. As I rested afterwards, I thought, “I have no idea how close to the edge I am. I keep thinking of this stroke as “minor,” while the MD calls it a “major stroke.” I need to remember that this event gives me a clear message about one of the ways I could die, tomorrow, or in ten years. A sobering and useful thought.

I have managed to get through two visiting sessions with four or more people at Tim’s without having an anxiety attack. Tomorrow, I’m having coffee with a group of Lodge Brothers. Another test for staying calm, not sweating (signal for anxiety) and yet enjoying myself.

Each step is so small, and yet so important. I’m not a good learner at the slow pace life. I get excited by what I see, what I read, what I hear…I need to practice the slow breathing technique that June Yee taught me a few weeks ago when she came to visit me in hospital. June is an old friend of Beatrix’ with whom we spend Christmas – her and her family. She drove all the way from Calgary to visit me in Wetaskiwin – over a two-hour drive each way. A touching and awesome gesture from a friend who also has a “congenital brain defect,” which is what I have now.

Baby steps, sober thoughts, profound awareness of the love that surrounds me…much of it from Beatrix, who puts herself out for me all the time. I feel blessed, and humbled, and kind of…mute. I can say thank you all the time, and it wouldn’t be enough. But this is enough for tonight.