Category: Misc

I was chatting to another blogger in a comment section the other day – I can’t remember whether it was their post or mine – and we vaguely touched on the topic of trigger words.

What I mean by a trigger word is just something that somebody will use, most likely inadvertently, but which lights our fuse.

I have been on both sides of this.

I was once talking to somebody, the subject must have been the military, and I used the word squaddie. Now, as far as I was/am concerned, this is a standard, slang word in UK English to refer to a serviceman. It is not offensive, not as far as I am concerned. Anybody from a private to a general, to a sailor, to an airman could legitimately be called a squaddie. But this chap was upset that I used the word. I didn’t (don’t) understand why he was upset, but I understood that he was upset, so I used a different word with him thereafter. I mean, I didn’t really see any point in winding this chap up unnecessarily.

Then, after my stroke, the very last thing I wanted was to be labelled a victim. Actually, that is quite common among stroke survivors. There is a feeling that shit happens, but somebody then chooses to be a victim of it or not, i.e. whether they let it change them.

But I notice that this feeling is not universal, though. Not really talking about stroke survivors now, but I have met other people to whom shit has happened, and who will quite happily self-identify as being a victim of something.

I mean, mostly it doesn’t really bother me. I think people use such words because they are ignorant that the word causes offence, not because they’re malicious. I think you have to go beyond the word itself, and look at the intent behind it. As an example, not so very long ago here, it was acceptable in society to refer to a black person as coloured, and I think most people would have used that word, without intending any malice. Over time, people have realised that use of this word is offensive, and it is no longer used today. But I don’t think people ever used the word out of malice.

Having said that, when people do use trigger words, especially common trigger words which are known to cause offence to some people, I do sometimes look at them and wonder shouldn’t they know better?

Any of you guys have trigger words?

One of my friends posted the other day an informative article about OCD. It’s interesting, because there is something similar with stroke. As far as I am concerned, there is not a hint of disorder about it, but it is definitely a little obsessive.

Let me tell you about the kettle. I drink lots of tea, for which I boil a kettle. My rule? after the kettle boils, I pour my tea. If, after that, there is not enough water for another cup, I have a task to fill the kettle once again. Once full, I turn the kettle on, but don’t bother waiting for it to boil, as I’ve already poured my cuppa. I head to the lounge to drink it in my armchair.

Meantime, the kettle boils.

The reason I boil the water is because in the kettle will stay quite hot. When I want the next cup, it won’t take as long to boil, which means that I’ll spend less time standing, waiting for it. That’s the key here, the second-highest consideration behind just making the tea itself.

In fact I apply this rule all day, unless this is my last cup of the evening. If it is the last cup of the evening, I’ll fill the kettle but won’t boil it. There’s no point because it’ll be well and truly cooled by morning. Lastly, I have a nifty little gadget which will allow me to trigger the kettle from the comfort of my bed next morning.

Okay, right now, you should be thinking this is all perfectly logical, but why on earth has he gone into so much detail?

What I just did was to give you an example of how stroke affects me. I’m limited physically (in this instance, how long I can stand at a worktop before having to rest), so I think things through to work out the most efficient pathway to getting the job done.

I bet you never thought that there was an efficient way to making a cup of tea, did you? But there is. And with the fatigue I have experienced since the stroke, my choice of pathway can make the difference between enjoying my cuppa or having to postpone the exercise until later, until after I’ve rested.

Even my able-bodied wife, who is a nurse, does not realise that any level of planning is involved. I never did myself, before…. She makes a drink, and leaves the kettle empty. I grrrr, but what can I say? For anybody else, this stuff is trivial.

Of course, I have become stronger over the last few years, but in many ways this is very much like being a toddler all over again, except that I am now able to process the thoughts which go with the experience.

For exactly the same reason, my getting up routine. I can at least trigger the kettle from bed, but as the water nears its boiling point I need to be busy.

First stop is the toilet, because which of us can begin the day without having a pee? Next stop is the lounge, where I turn on the computer and retrieve last night’s teacup. I’ll take that and leave it by the kettle, which is by now well on its way. Plus, there are two hollow-legged cats who need their breakfast! No gadgets to placate them, unfortunately. I get that done as quickly as possible, before I head to the bathroom to prick my finger. A glucometer test, provided there aren’t any mishaps, is a two-minute affair, and a measurement before I’ve drunk or eaten anything provides a baseline which guides my insulin dose. By the time I am finished, the kettle will have boiled. My duties over, I can make my cuppa and return to the lounge, where the computer should have started by now and should be ready to do something useful.

This is a set pathway, the shortest path between the rooms, which I follow every morning. It gets my fasting blood sugar, my first cuppa, and my computer up-and-running, without my usually having to wait for anything.

But in both of these cases, please look past the detail. What I actually do, the order in which I do it, is irrelevant. That I have contrived a set order of ceremonies at all, is what is relevant.

You wouldn’t think somebody might need a rest while just preparing a drink, would you? But that is one of the ways in which fatigue hits, and 70% of stroke survivors experience some degree of fatigue. I don’t really expect people to be able to empathise with me – until I had the stroke myself, it isn’t something I could have grasped, but if it is something which interests you, I hope my examples give you some insight. What might be trivial for some will be a marathon for others.

Somebody posted on WP the other day, an aspect was how people needed to laugh at themselves. So, I felt inspired…

For me, following the stroke, it was not quite learning to laugh, but learning to shrug. Things are what they are, and if I can’t manage something, I have two choices, either accept it, or think of a workaround. In that respect, thinking is key. There have been many wins, but there has also been frustration along the way.

Many things, I needed to relearn after the stroke, not least, to walk again – that started about a month post-stroke, tiny steps around my bed. It took almost a year before I left the house, aalthough I have become stronger over time.

My arm still poses problems. My hand, mostly. It’s got a flicker but not really any more usable than the day I had the stroke. So, workarounds are ongoing. Two-handed tasks are a struggle. Everyday tasks that just require two hands, that I never really used to even think about before.

Opening a jar, cutting a slice of cheese, buttering a piece of bread, for example. Even now, my wife does not realise that the spread is jammed in between those two other things, making it imnmovable, for a reason!

Another example is my socks. If you don’t believe me, try it, one handed. I once posted on here about the arguments I used to have with my socks! Not a word of a lie!

However, I mastered these battles, and I can think about them now and chuckle. I can even share tips with other survivors – just last week, how to brush their teeth one-handed! (Answer – you squeeze the toothpaste directly into your mouth.) I can’t stress enough how trivial these things are – they’re things we’ve done our whole lives and never thought twice about them.

Although I can now laugh, it was bloody frustrating at the time. Socks, I am trained – things like my teeth, I work around.

Some things are still out of reach. Gardening. I allowed my garden to run wild flourish each year, and would spend two weekends per year chopping, making a couple of trips to the dump. So I have all the equipment – I even bought a trailer for the occasion!

But I can’t do any of that now. Most garden tools here are deliberately made two-handed, plus just lifting them, with my right hand (I was left-handed) is beyond me. I bought one of those new, lightweight, battery-operated hedge trimmers, figured out how I could rig it to work one-handed, but even that’s a struggle. These things have double-switches for a reason, too, so I’m aware that disabling safety features is probably not a good idea. I haven’t even tried using my chainsaw one-handed (yet).

I can, at least, mow the lawn – I bought a petrol mower with a turnkey ignition, otherwise I’d be stuffed. But, bloody hell, it is heavy, and I had to work out how to start it one-handed. Emptying the grass cuttings is also a knack that I mastered. Little things. Thank goodness the mower is at least self-propelled

So there are ways I contribute, things I have learned how to do. But you can imagine the frustration along the way. Even so, I acutely aware that the old me could mow both lawns in an hour, these days it is a day each. But… shrug. I’ll just have to let my wife get on with it!