Strokes Are Like Pregnancies — Every One Is Different
A few weeks ago I wrote Kirk Douglas’ obituary for Krypton Radio. In the course of researching it, I learned that he had written a book about being a stroke survivor. I knew he had written an autobiography, but I had no idea he’d written eleven books, including My Stroke of Luck, “which he hoped would be an “operating manual” for others on how to handle a stroke victim in their own family.”
I had to request the book through inter-library loan, as our library didn’t have it. It’s a fascinating read. Shame the only used bookstore in our town went out of business, or I’d look for a copy of my own.
I quickly realized Kirk Douglas’ stroke was very different from my own, although we were both told we had minor strokes. First off, he was considerably older than I was, and male, so naturally there would be some differences. I guess strokes are like pregnancies, where each one is different.
Mr. Douglas was awake for his stroke. Apparently by sleeping through it and waking up afterwards, I missed out on a lot of pain.
“Suddenly, I felt a peculiar sensation in my right cheek. It was as if a pointed object had drawn a line from my temple, made a half circle on my cheek, and stopped.” MSOL, p. 2. He tried to speak, but it came out gibberish.
Mr. Douglas writes more about his inability to speak intelligibly than anything else. He wrote about speech therapy, not being able to communicate, and depression. I needed speech therapy to communicate more clearly, but I never lost the ability to speak altogether. He mentioned in passing that he went from not being able to golf to being able to golf three holes to nine holes to golfing the full eighteen holes; obviously, he would have had some physical therapy between these golf rounds, but he doesn’t speak of it.
Douglas also wrote of the depression accompanying the stroke. At one point he got out a gun he’d used in a movie with Burt Lancaster and kept. He happened to have some bullets. He wrote of loading the gun, in operation that would take the use of both hands. It’s been nearly a year and a half from my stroke, and I still can’t use my left hand. Yet he took using both hands for granted mere months after his stroke.
Also, he wrote about having people fetch and carry for you when you have a stroke, and said not to permit too much of it. I can’t find the page now, but he mentioned when his wife offered to get him a drink, saying he would get it himself, and offered to get her one, too. I’ve been able to get my own refreshments for months, but my family still says, “D%mt*, Mom, ask for help.” I cannot get two drinks at one time. I don’t anticipate being able to do so for another year or more.
Douglas wrote about not being able to speak. He didn’t write about the parts of surviving a stroke that bother me most: memory problems, lack of focus, inability to concentrate, incontinence, constipation, wearing diapers as an adult, the fact my left arm always hurts. He mentioned a stroke doesn’t improve your penmanship, and that it affected the right side of his body, but I get the impression his right limbs were not as handicapped as my left limbs. Maybe as a Hollywood tough guy who did his own stunts for years, he didn’t want to be whining in public about pain. Maybe he developed a higher pain tolerance.
I’ve had problems with a serotonin deficiency for years, so maybe I’ve developed a higher depression tolerance than someone who never had depression problems before.
Twice Mr. Douglas mentioned something I didn’t know about stroke survivors. Apparently an inability to swallow is not uncommon. Mel Torme (1925–1999) also suffered a stroke. He had to be fed by a tube in his stomach. Douglas was not allowed to eat for 20 hours at the hospital for fear he’d have the same difficulty. I don’t recollect this possibility even being mentioned to me. My main complaint about hospital meals was at the time I generally got up about 5:20 a.m. and ate breakfast by 6:30. The hospital didn’t serve breakfast that early, and I was hungry. (This was before I started throwing up so much that I lost my appetite and eventually lost 60 lbs. I am now on a high protein diet in an effort to regain lost muscle mass.)
But Kirk Douglas’ stroke seems to have been different from my stroke. Maybe all strokes are different. I noticed he continually referred to himself in the book as a stroke victim. I tend to use the phrase stroke survivor.
My Other Posts on Life as a Stroke Survivor
