I must admit that sometimes I don’t like the person that the stroke has turned me into. I resent having to apply a “filter” when dealing with other people. Two examples from just this morning:
My wife had left an empty cardboard box next to the kitchen doorway. I mean, that’s where we keep stuff ready to go into the recycling bin, so not a particularly surprising place to choose. As I walked past, I’m not as precise as I used to be and I knocked this box onto the floor. So just to get it out of the way I gave it a kick, but only really succeeded in kicking it into the middle of the doorway, where it was well-and-truly in everyone’s way. I got past it and went into the kitchen to continue making breakfast, and when I came back out, the box was gone. Clearly my wife had decided to take it out to the bin there and then, lest it get in the way again. I wasn’t really happy that I’d made her take it out there and then.
Again, whilst preparing breakfast, I went to boil the kettle, there was no water in it so before I even started boiling the water, I had to fill it again – my wife had used the last of the boiling water. This shouldn’t be a big deal – between us all we probably fill kettles a zillion times a day. But it seems to happen on most days so I was grumbling under my breathat the extra effort – would you believe that when someone has had a stroke, it is an extra effort? I’m ashamed to have thought those thoughts over something so trivial.
I mean, I’m sure I had my foibles before the stroke, but I hate how I need to apply a mask these days in order to stop the unreasonable thoughts from poking through.