I thought my post of a few days ago was pretty good, even if people disagree with me, it shows that I am able still to string a couple of thoughts together. In front of a computer, at least.
On Monday, my wife and I went out to a particular shop, where we had lunch. I knew something hadn’t agreed with me, as we’d just about got back up the driveway when I needed to get inside to use the toilet. I eat quite a bland diet these days, so I have a some strong ideas of what the cause of this might have been, although they are, of course, only ideas so I won’t mention either the shop, or what we had (which might give it away).
Since then my guts haven’t been normal. I mean, I feel fine, but my toilet habits have temporarily changed (for the want of a better word). And since the stroke, obviously I walk more slowly, but also I have developed a realisation that “if it’s gonna happen, it’s gonna happen”. I notice this with walking, when I often stand on things purely because I need to put my foot down now, and with something like typing, when my hand just has to hit the nearest key, whether right or wrong. I spend a lot of time correcting spelling mistakes, I see them as soon as I type them, but that doesn’t prevent them happening in the first place. And it’s not because I don’t know how words are spelled – I’m probably better at spelling than most of the population.
But, basically, my guts are exactly the same. (Under normal circumstances, I can control things such nobody would notice anything.)
Suffice it to say, last night, everything conspired with everything else, and rather than snoring gently, I was having to clean the toilet floor at 3:30am. Believe me, you don’t want to hear the gory details and I’m choosing my words very, very carefully. But not at all a pleasant experience.
Incidentally, this same thing happened while I was in hospital. Of course, in that scenario, there were other people about. I rang for assistance in the middle of the night, but none arrived and so the inevitable happened. Patients can wait some time for help, especially during the dark hours. And, of course, lots of other things have happened to me with medical professionals, but this is the thing I remember. These days, people are very free to say how proud we should be of NHS staff, but I just remember that episode. In reality, when I was in hospital, I saw some really good staff, but I also saw some pretty poor ones. Doubtless they’d say the same about patients.
But to return to my original point, it is surprising that I now experience both the really-highbrow stuff, and the really-lowbrow stuff – strokes give you that!