stroke Archives * Survived to Thrive by Momma Berna

What I Gained From Giving Up

Lent, the holiest season in the Christian and Catholic calendar. It is a recollection of the sacrifice that Jesus, the son of God, made for us for the forgiveness of our sins. In turn, it has become a tradition that believers give up something of value or luxury during the forty days of Lent starting on Ash Wednesday (that’s the day when Catholics are identified by the ash smudge on their foreheads) ending on Easter Sunday. The belief is by giving something up, we are offering up a reflection of the sacrifice that Jesus had done for us.

Facebook, Really?

When I became a Catholic CEO (Christmas and Easter Only), I had turned cynical of this tradition. People were giving up alcohol, chocolate, rice, and sweets. And more recently, social media. I was cynical coz Facebook? I thought the whole point of giving something up was to learn the value of sacrifice, stewardship and inner reflection. I was imposing my own biases onto another person’s values and this was unfair. I wasn’t even giving anything up myself, I really had no place to judge.

Giving in and Giving Up

This year, I decided to embark on my own Lenten journey. I thought I would participate in the tradition of giving up. In that spirit, I have decided to give up behaviors and habits that were holding me back or slowing me down. I needed to find a way to reconnect with myself.

I gave up multi-tasking. For me, this is out of necessity rather than growth. I do things very slowly. And my attention span is crap. If I try to do more than one thing at a time, and I do, chances are one of those things will be ruined or forgotten. Hence, there were some burned dinners and half-written blog posts. I need to be able to complete one task before I move on to another. I also need to stop keep feeling so frazzled because I have so many things going on at the same time. I end up with many unfinished projects. I’m also learning to prioritize and to avoid distractions. If that means doing things on a timer or on a schedule, then so be it. Trying to do more than one thing at a time accomplishes nothing and just stirs up my anxiety. Giving up spreading myself thin has been a great stress relief and a boost to my mental health.

I have given up on trying to prove myself stronger when in reality my body and brain are begging for me to stop. I have recently written about my struggle with nerve pain. While doctors are playing roulette with my meds, my nerves have gone on a wild and rowdy rave. They’ve all been lit and fired up at the same time. I have been in pain. A whole lot of pain. And because I am stubborn and hard headed, I continued to push through the pain. Mind over matter and all that. Until it got to the point that the pain had moved to my shoulders and moving had become painful. I spent a whole weekend curled up in a ball crying under the covers. I was forced to rest. It was a hard way to learn what should’ve have been a simple lesson: for my brain to heal, my body had to rest. These past few weeks I have not been going to the gym. Which really bums me out, but then I got hit the flu so yeah… I had to give up the idea that I have to be “fine” and strong all the time. That it is okay to admit that there are moments that I am weak and that my body needs to recover and sometimes that recovery may take some time.

Summing up, I believe I could say I have given up pride. That meant knowing when to reach out and ask for help. And when to accept help when offered even from the unlikeliest source. I had a woman come up to me today and asked when I had a stroke. Then asked if she could say a prayer for me. There was a time when I would have been weirded out by this, but this time I said yes with an open mind and an open heart. I prayed with her. I cried. I felt a certain lightness.

As we celebrate Easter, I hope to continue to “give up” on the negative habits and thoughts that weigh me down. I could only get stronger when I embrace my weakness and learn to grow from them. I hope to continue to gain insight, understanding, and acceptance of my own limitations but still be able to push through them without causing harm to myself.

monika-grabkowska-612622-unsplash-1719544008-1555741180980.jpg — Happy Easter!

Walking San Jose

I signed up for the 408k race a few months ago. It was right around the time I decided to get serial casting to help with my foot drop. I had high hopes that by the time race day arrives, I would be walking better and faster. My plan was to train during the months of December and January so that when February rolls around, I would be ready to tackle 5 miles of San Jose.

Unfortunately, things didn’t turn out the way I expected them to be. I was getting miles on the treadmill, at the park and at the track. My leg and my foot were still not working with me. I was suffering bad neuropathy after walking a few miles.

I know I needed someone to walk the race with me. I reached out to a former co-Represent Running Ambassador. To my surprise and gratitude, Ashley said yes! There was no backing out now.

The weather forecast for race day was grim. Rain all day. A storm was blowing through the Bay area on Saturday. Armando was trying to talk me out of walking. I love running in the rain, but I wasn’t looking forward to walking in the rain for two hours.

rainbows, downtown san jose, 408k, SAP, start line — *Chasing Rainbows*

Race day came and the sun was shining! It felt so good to be around a race environment again. Being surrounded by motivated, strong and determined individuals were energizing. At the same time, the crowd, the loud music, and the activities were overwhelming. I was anxious.

I started the race feeling good. I was walking faster than my usual pace. The atmosphere was energizing. Anxiety was quickly fading away. The weather stayed dry and the sun as out. It even got warm enough that people were shedding layers of clothing. Ashley & I were enjoying getting to know each other as. We plug right along. A few runners asked me how I hurt my leg, (I just shrug my shoulders), while others were cheered us on. Eventually, all the runners passed us. My neuropathy started to kick in around mile 2.5. About halfway done. Each step felt as if I was walking on fire. Other than 2 other women, we were the only ones left on the course. I was really touched by the families who stayed out to cheer us on.

We got to the three-mile mark. I took a pain pill which helped relieve the neuropathy. But no amount of medication could relieve the spasms. My left leg was giving out. At mile 3.5 I asked Ashley if I could hold her hand. She saw my distress and knew I needed help. Ashley offered to ask one of the sweep cars for a ride. I resisted at first. But I knew in my heart, I would end up getting hurt if I continued to walk. So I accepted the ride. Sgt. Mario wanted to drop us off as close to the finish line as possible. That was just not acceptable. We were in the car for about half a mile. There was one last mariachi band playing, a handful of volunteers cheering us on, and a fine drizzle had started to fall.

Dead freaking last

Ashley and I crossed the finish line hand in hand. The spectators had gone, other runners enjoying their well-earned bunch were cheering us on. But much to my delight Represent Running was still there to announce our finish. I might’ve ugly cried a bit (the rain helped hide it. It was great to be greeted by my friend Josephine at the finish line. She came out to support me and give me a ride home.

Finishing this race meant so much to me. This is my favorite local race. It is well organized by a group of amazing, passionate and really, really nice folks which gives this race a true hometown feel. I have not run any races this past year because I had lost my mojo. This is the longest distance I’ve gone since the stroke.

The slowest car chase ever.
We got caught!
😝

Ashley, you believe that every runner counts. Girl, you literally walk the walk. Thank you, thank you for your support, your encouragement and for recognizing I’d be out of my mind if I didn’t stop and hitch a ride with the officer.

Tears of joy
Finish lines will always be sweet
My 408k Angel.

My Take Aways:

There are really good people out there. Ashley and I have only met once in person. We’ve mostly communicated on Instagram. Yet, she readily said when I asked her to help me with this race.
Mind over matter is a great mantra until it’s your mind that matters. Leg spasms came as a result of exhaustion. There was no way I could control them.
I need to listen to my body. I didn’t want to get a lift from the officer, my pride would not let me. I would not have finished the race at all if I didn’t take that short break.
Runners as a group are encouraging, helpful and supportive people.
My the spasticity and tone on my quads are still really high. I have more work to do to get my leg to bend. I am looking for ways to get relief.
As much as I would want to run another race I need to work on getting my left side working. I am putting too much on my right side creating possible long term damage.

I will find other ways to get that adrenalin high. I will continue to work on getting stronger, working on my balance and healing the rest of my body.

In Memoriam

Stroke has taken so much from my family. Our lives changed drastically after my stroke in 2014. Things were finally smoothing out for us, until March 12, 2018 when a stroke took away my mom.

My mom’s death was unexpected. She was fine that Saturday March 11th. We sat around the table with my sister eating yummy pastries. She talked about going to Florida to visit her sisters (A and I had already planned on buying her the airfare as a birthday present). My boys and I had gone to a birthday party that evening and when we came home, my mom was telling us how Twinkie kept her company by sitting outside her bedroom door(what she didn’t know was that she was the one making the dog feel safe. Twinkie does not like being alone). As she was getting ready for bed, she reminded me of the time change the next day. She said good night. I said “thank you and I love you”. I don’t often tell her “I love you”, but I am glad that I did that night. She went to bed with a smile on her face.

The next day, everyone had a slow start. We ate breakfast around 11, it wasn’t unusual for my mom not to join us for Sunday breakfast as she watches/attends the Catholic mass on T.V. My husband and I were getting ready to go to the gym when we heard my mom coughing. Her coughing just sounded wrong, it sounded as if she was drowning. We asked Scotty to check on her. He was calling out “Wowa,Wowa” (the kids’ name for their grandma) and he sounded panicked so I rushed over to her room. The second I looked at her I knew she’s had a stroke. She had all the signs. Armando called 911. She wasn’t swallowing her spit, so Scotty propped her up on her side so she does not get water in her lungs.

At the hospital, the CT confirmed the stroke. She was placed in the ICU, we were hanging out with her and relatives visited. My mom was awake and knew where she was, what day it was and recognized the people who visited her. Doctors performed all kinds of tests. We were told she had an ischemic stroke and she was experiencing atrial fibrillation. They were going to keep her in the ICU for observation, but they were cautiously optimistic. That 5 A.M. phone call was a shock that still reverberates through my bones.

My mom lived with my family, so her absence is deeply felt. On one of the days leading up to her funeral, I knocked on her bedroom door before I entered. I was going in there to get the clothes she would be buried in.

On the night of the rosary and vigil, we delivered our eulogies. I kept mine short because I know I would not have been able to keep it together. Here is the eulogy in its entirety.

“Before I begin, I would like to thank everyone who came here tonight. Thank you for your support and for honoring my mom’s memory. I hope you’ve all had a chance to share stories and good memories.

Many if not most of you know of my mom’s generosity. She would give and share until she had little or non left for herself. Her favorite thing to share is her cooking. She would cook enough to feed the neighbors and she did! She cooked for her boys, she knew their favorites and would make it for them if they asked or even if they didn’t.

My mom was also very stubborn. I had asked her to stop doing her apos (grandsons) laundry, but she still did. She also cleaned up after them. It was part of her morning routine to turn off the bathroom lights and the light in Scotty’s room. She would also go in the boys’ room to make their beds, collect any cups or dishes (the boys are not allowed to eat in their rooms, so I think she did this sweep so I won’t yell at the boys.) She also did their chores and gave them money. I guess it is a grandma’s well earned right to spoil their grandchildren. She fed the cat. A lot. She also loved to buy Filipino pastries. I’ve asked her over and over to stop as it is unhealthy. She bought them anyway and we happily ate.

The one quality my mother had that I never appreciated was her strength. In contemplating her life, I now only realized the sacrifices she’s made for my sister and I. In 1989, she gave up her career as a dentist to immigrate to the U.S. Her and my dad gave up the comforts of their lives, friends and jobs so that my sister and I could have a better future. The help of generous relatives helped relieve some of the uncertainty we were facing. My mom secured a job at a semiconductor company where she worked from 6 PM till 6 AM. This job allowed us to move out of my aunt’s house and rent an apartment in Milpitas. My sister and I were both going to school and working, but not once did she ask for our financial help. She even gave me the money for a downpayment for my first car. She never learned how to drive, so when my dad passed in 1996 she not only lost a husband, a best friend and a partner. She also lost her chauffeur. I was starting my own family, so I was not available to drive her around too much. She had to learn how to take the bus. She had just taken the bus to a doctor’s appointment the Friday before she passed. She was giving me lessons on bus routes!

Her true strength came through when I needed her the most. After I had a stroke in 2014, my mother was instrumental in my recovery. I am sure that she never, ever thought that she would have to help her grown daughter use the bathroom. Or that she would have to help me clean up because I did not make it to the bathroom in time. She bathed me as I cried out of humiliation and self-pity. She had to cut up my food, help me get dressed and remind me to exercise. I know it took an incredible amount of strength for her to keep it together as she helped me build myself back up. I will never forget the look of pride she had as she watched me take my first steps. Even as I am fairly recovered, she still hovered over me. She was always hesitant leaving me alone. She would ask what time one of the boys will be home before she leaves the house. She stayed up with me when I was up till late watching T.V or writing. She calls to check up on me when I am out walking alone or when she’s out of the house and no one is home with me. My mommy protected us fiercely. Loved us wholeheartedly. Gave generously. Her life maybe gone, but her presence will always be with us.”

goodby grandma,goodbye mom — **My boys helped carry their Wowa (grandma) to her final resting place.**

It has been a difficult couple of months and I am sure it will not get easier anytime soon.

Much Love,

Momma Berna

Aftershocks

Earthquakes happen suddenly, with no warning and if strong enough, leaves massive destruction at its wake. Then the aftershocks follow. Little tremblers that are just as nerve wracking as they could be signaling another big one.

I use this analogy because this is how I felt after the stroke. I get anxious whenever I get a headache or a tingling in my hands or feet. Afterall, the stroke literally caused a shift in my brain.

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) has always been attributed to veteran soldiers returning from the harrowing experiences of war, survivors of tragedies such as accidents, personal assaults and natural disasters. What most don’t realize is that there are stroke survivors who also suffer from PTSD.

PTSD is a psychological disorder characterized by depression, anxiety, flashbacks and/or nightmares. This study indicated that 1 in 4 stroke survivors suffer from PTSD and yet, it is not a well researched field. Stroke survivors often have huge physical recoveries to tackle, their emotional health is often put on the back burner.

When I was discharged from the rehab hospital, my family was given resources to help me recover physically. Appointments and referrals were set up for physical, speech and occupational therapy. Medical pros had to check my home to see if it was accessible to me. My family was even “trained” to help me transfer in and out of my wheelchair. They were given information on how to keep me physically safe. I do not recall if my family was ever warned of the psychological toll specially PTSD.

FAST, stroke survivor, stroke, stroke prevention — Act FAST for stroke treatment

The stroke was caused by a blood vessel that burst which flooded my brain with blood killing precious brain cells. This according to the pros, was a direct result of high blood pressure. Armando and I became vigilant about checking my blood pressure. If it was a bit high, I start panicking- which resulted in my pressure going higher. It was an ugly cycle. Every headache was surely a sign of another stroke. I would do the FAST (face, arm, speech, time to call 911) evaluation, but would be very upset because I cannot move my left arm, the left side of my face was numb and so was my leg. It was aggravating. I took a couple of ambulance rides to the ER only to be sent home embarrassed and upset. And inadvertently scaring my boys.

I read somewhere that lifting weights could cause strokes. I immediately emailed my neurologist, my primary care physician and my physical therapist my concern. I was working with a trainer and weight training. They all told me to chill the fuck out (okay, in a very medically polite way) Mind you, I wasn’t lifting anything over 10 lbs. I could not even hold a 5 lb dumbell with my left hand. Ha!

After three years, I have managed to calm down. I still fear that a headache (which I don’t get often thank God!) is signaling another stroke. I have a nagging fear that I will have another stroke and that one will leave me in a vegetative state. These little aftershocks haunt me in my dreams too. I relive the moment I had the stroke and I wake up screaming. Will I ever be able to NOT think about another stroke? I doubt it. This is a reality I now live with.

However, I will not allow these aftershocks to stop me in my tracks. I take many precautions so that a stroke will not get me again. I eat healthy, exercise and avoid stress (yeah, that one is not happening).

For anyone reading who is a stroke survivor, please know that the fear of having “another one “ is not irrational. The anxiety is very real. Our fear is valid. Know that you are not alone.

Much Love,

Momma Berna

I like Being Told “You Look Good”

I read Facebook groups and blogs for disabilities, strokes & chronic illness. I see posts where a person gets sad or offended when someone tells them “ You look good”. I know there are times when I don’t feel good, I am in a lot of pain or I feel very sorry for myself. The last thing I would want to hear is “you look good” or “you look great!”.

In my opinion, when someone says those words they are not meant to be empty platitudes. Sometimes, folks just do not know what to say. And more than anything, it is usually said with love & genuine concern.

I am grateful when someone tells me “You look good”.

I am grateful because it takes a lot of effort for me to get ready to go out. Taking a shower can be exhausting. It takes a lot of time and frustration to get myself look presentable. I am glad when someone notices my efforts. There are days when I am in a lot of pain, and it shows on my face. When someone tells me I look good it means that for that day, at that time I am pain-free.

I am grateful because I work hard on my rehabilitation. I work my ass off to teach my brain to get back to some semblance of my old self. When someone tell me “ You look good” means my efforts are getting noticed.

And I am grateful because I have family and friends who support me, help me get through the tough times and are there to boost me up when I am at my lowest. I look good because I have their love and support to carry round.

I get it, folks with chronic pain or chronic illness the words “you look great” could sometimes be hard to hear. Pain is hidden and for most there is no end in sight. We may look good on the outside, but the fear of when the next brain fog, neuro fatigue or nerve pain will attack is always on our minds.

Despite the uncertainty, I choose to be grateful. I choose to see the good intention behind the words. I would like to think that when a person tells me that, he or she means it sincerely. I choose to believe that good health shows in face and my person. I will say thank you to anyone who sees this and care enough to let me know.

Have you found gratitude in an unusual place? Please share!

Much Love,

Momma Berna

I Didn’t Hit a Wall, I Straight Up Ran Head First Into It.

The Brazen Western Pacific race was my first ever 10k back in 2013. I planned on making this year’s race as my first post stroke 10k. I trained, I was pumped and I was ready. I asked my son Vincent to run this race with me.

I had trained, I walked around the neighborhood, walking up the hill and even attempting runs around the city track. Tuesday before the race, I walked/run 4 miles and I still felt good afterwards.

I posted my flat runner on social media and admitted I was a bit nervous for the following day. I was excited to do this race with Vincent. My plan was to have him run the 10k, finish get his medal and then have him wait for me at the last mile. He said “No, I want to stay and walk with you”. He gave me a boost of confidence! So we line up at the start, took the obligatory start line selfies and off we went! I decided to run intervals for this race. I did not use this method while training, but I figured it wasn’t going to make a lot of difference since while training, I run/walk anyway. I set my Garmin for a 2 min run 1 min walk. Vincent was goofing around (it’s nice to be at the back of the pack coz we had the trail to ourselves!) doing walking lunges during the walk phase on the intervals. Of course that didn’t last very long. Ha!

We kept up with the 2:1 intervals. It was 9:30 and it was already getting warm! I had lots of water in my pack so I wasn’t worried. Vincent & I were chatting and having a nice time. After the two mile mark, a very nice woman stopped me and told me how inspired she was to see me out there. She’s also had her share of health issues and she started crying, which of course set me off crying too! She ran the 10k and was on her last mile. She told me “no matter how long it takes you to finish, the important thing is that you finish!” I had her words in my head for the rest of the race. I had to finish.

My son was very impressed with the kindness and encouragement of the runners. He asked me how I knew all these people, I told him I didn’t know them, runners are just nice like that!

As we approach the turn around for the 10k, my leg started spazzing out. When my affected left leg spasms, it will kick out uncontrollably. I had to stop, stretch out a bit then continue. As with all Brazen races, the aid station was stocked with all kinds of goodies. Orange slices, candy, pretzels everything a runner needs to fuel up. I helped myself to some oranges hoping to get my energy level up again. We headed back. Vincent was getting very worried as I was leaning onto him while walking. I was determined to finish. A few runners were stopping to ask if I needed pain relief, others asked if they could get a course monitor to get help. I really must be looking pretty bad. I urged Vincent to keep walking. I was slowing down, but I wanted to finish. We were at 4.20 mi! (yes, my kid thought it would be funny to take a pic of my Garmin at 4.20)

4:20, runner, distance — Somehow this is funny!

I keep trying to convince him to continue we were so close! Mind over matter right? Focus on the finish! One step at a time. I had filled my mind with positive self talk (they didn’t work). I kept moving. I was willing my leg to move. I was literally talking to my leg out loud “swing, land on heel, roll to toe.” Since I was using my right to compensate for my left, I started having shooting pains going up my right leg. Vincent was clearly worried. It was nearing 11:30 am and the sun was beating down on us. Many of the runners could tell I was in trouble. Vincent had already asked one of the returning runners to let people the next aid station know that we neeeded help (despite my protests).

At this point, the lines of communication between my leg and brain have completely stopped. My foot was rolling over at every step, my leg was frozen and i was completely hunched over to my right. As hard as it was, it was time to admit defeat. A runner helped my son walk me to the bench. It was clear that walking was not happening. As we sat waiting for help to arrive, I was still contemplating the last mile. It was so close. I tried standing up, but Vincent held me back. I saw relief on Vincent’s face when the ranger’s truck finally pulled up and he had the a/c on at full blast.

As we were nearing the finish area I could hear Sam (the Brazen race coordinator)calling out the names of the finishers, the audience cheering and I could see the happy, triumphant faces of the runners. I was devastated. I had let myself down, my brain worked against me. I so wanted this to be a victory, not just for me but for other stroke survivors as well. I wanted my family & friends to be proud of me. I feel that I had let a lot of people down. The exhaustion that I felt from the race, did not measure up to the sadness, pain and disappointment I felt inside.

Now that a few days have passed since the race, I’ve had some time to think about what happened. Although I didn’t finish the race, I still tried my best. I am grateful to have a 19 year old son who still likes to hang out with his crazy momma. He and I got to witness the kindness of other runners who were willing to help and lend support when we were in need.

I have also received so many positive feedback and support from my family and friends. Am I still sad about this? Yes, I definitely am. I am also still experiencing pain in my hip and shoulder. My brain is still a bit foggy. Neuro fatigue takes a bit longer to recover from.

I am sad and disappointed. But I’m in no way stopping! I might lick my wounds for a few days, rest up the old noggin and come up with a better training plan. There will be another race, another 10k and I will come back!

Thank you, thank you to everyone who slowed down, stopped and offered encouragement, Advil, Bio-freeze and Gu. i know those few seconds mattered in terms of a PR.

I would like to give a special shout out to my son Vincent for putting up with me. We had nice conversations and talked about anything under the sun. He knew I wanted to finish the race, so he tried his best to give me emotional boosts and physical support. He was propping me up, urging me to keep walking. But it came to a point where he knew it was time to just stop. In his gut, he knew I could be in danger. I am grateful to him for looking out for me.

sons, family,love,stroke survivor mom — Vincent was my hero for the day.

Much love,

Momma Berna

P.S. I was able to connect with the runner I spoke with on the trail. Thank you social media! She is one brave, inspirational woman! This is her Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/lifeinthedayofarunner

Name(required)

Email(required)

Website

Comment(required)

I Hit Send

Whew! I’ve had my mailing list set-up on MailChimp for like forever. The email where I invite people I know, people I have interacted with and family members to introduce them to my blog. You see, some of them don’t have face-insta-twit or they are just not a part of my social media circle.

I have had the list set-up, formatted, re-formatted for a couple of months now. I have been too worried to hit send because…well…I am afraid. I am afraid of rejection, I am afraid of criticism etc. etc. But fear will not move me forward nor will it help me get my story out. So today, I clicked send.

But even with just one hand to type and getting seriously brain tired after a few sentences, I’ve got a story to tell! I may not tickle your fancy like E.L James, or give you nightmares like Stephen King (he, is the reason I am afraid of– no why I hate clowns). So if this is your first time here on my blog, welcome. Stay for a bit, I hope you enjoy what you read and come back. If you have visited before, welcome back. I do hope you keep coming back.

Now that I’ve hit send remember I am just a girl, sitting by her laptop, waiting for you all to read my story 😉

Much Love,

Momma Berna

Great Expectations: An Update on My Baclofen Pump

So, it has been 6 months since I had the Baclofen Pump surgically installed inside my body. Yup, had my stomach cut up, and a foreign device inserted to get medicine pumped directly into my spinal column to get my stroke affected leg to move somewhat normally again. This quite invasive surgery had set me up with great expectations. I had that scene from Forrest Gump in my head. You know, the part where Forrest was running from a pack of bullies, Jenny cheering him on with “run, Forrest, run!!!” His leg braces flying off and he takes off! Yup, I envisioned myself running as soon as I got out of the hospital. Reality hit me smack in the face. My leg still felt like it was 20 pounds heavier than the rest of my body. I noticed some improvement. I felt my knee bending, my leg felt lighter ( 20 lbs is better than 30 right?), but running is still proving to be difficult. My foot is still curling in too. I am able to walk faster, and have even tried jogging. I use the term jogging very loosely. My walk is much faster than my jog 🙂 My doctor and I are still working out the kinks. Still trying to figure out the correct therapeutic dose. Too much and my leg will turn to spaghetti, too little and the implant will be pointless.

In late November, when the pump was refilled the Doctor changed the concentration of the medicine. It is now heavier which means I only need a smaller dose (theoretically). He told me that it will take a few days for me to feel the difference. Unfortunately, I did feel a difference. But it was for the worse. My leg has

Further proof that I am dragging my foot. I am collecting dog hair as I go.

returned to pre pump status. My leg feels so much heavier and my friends and family are noticing that I am dragging my foot again and my knee is not bending. The nerve pain on my thigh also returned. Unfortunately, The nerve pain has also been really bad on my shoulder. I have been stuck in an insurance limbo this past December, so I am unable to call my doctor for advice and assistance. Read about that mess here:

I am sad that the pump is not working out as quickly as I expected. I would be really angry if it does not work at all. I am still putting on the work: walking regularly, going to the gym, stretching and strengthening not only my leg, but my body.

I am broken hearted. I had that huge goal of running the NYC marathon in 2017. A wise friend advised me to take a step back, analyze my goals and slow my roll. Perhaps, I will start with actually running first. No matter how slow, I will get myself to run again. I need to build my endurance. I need to start training. I need to set short term goals. I know for sure that I will do the 408k in March. I would like to actually run that race. And not take two hours to finish.

As hard as it is, I have to put aside my NYC marathon goal for now. FOR NOW! I will revisit this in a couple of years.

What do you do when you experience a set back?

Much Love,

Momma Berna

To Have and to Hold

After working a six hour shift slinging McBurgers, my mom and dad came to pick me up from work asking me to hook them up with a couple of Mcsandwiches. So, I walk back in the restaurant as this tall goofy boy was hanging up a handwritten sign that said “.99 hot Fudge Sundays” I stood there trying not to laugh, when the other person who was behind the counter asked me, “do you see anything wrong with this sign?” I was a new employee and to be quite honest fresh off the boat and quite shy and timid (imagine that) I did not want to make anyone angry at me. But being the big nerd that I am I answered, “Other than the bad hand writing? I don’t think we are selling the day of the week”. The tall, goofy guy looked at me, rolled his eyes and flashed a brace filled smile. I got my sandwiches, and as i was walking out Goofy guy asked if I wanted to go out sometime. I was a product of an all girl’s Catholic school and I have never, ever been on a date before. I must’ve stammered something coz he gave me that smile again while he held the door open for me. A couple of chaperoned dates later (my dad would not let me go out with him unless we were chaperoned), our McRomance blossomed. That was twenty five plus years ago.

I can honestly say, we have come a long way from saying “would you like fries with that?”. Both of us worked our way through school, Armando earned his degree in Political Science from Santa Clara University, where a few years later, I received my Masters Degree in Counseling Psychology. It was fitting that we had our wedding at the beautiful Mission Santa Clara. This past August, we celebrated our 20th wedding anniversary. The twenty years were spent raising two boys (Vincent-18 and Scotty-15), Armando served as a Milpitas Council member for 12 years while helping the San Jose mayor balance the budget and I have been a case manager and counselor for the homeless, for schools and i’ve also worked as a substitute teacher.

Our marriage is not all about roses and rainbow, there had been storms along the way. But no one could have ever predicted the level F-5 tornado we would be facing in October of 2014. Armando sat by my bedside night after night while I was in the hospital. During the day, he went home, took care of the boys, then went to work. In the evening he came back. He read to me, told me about the day he and the boys have had. He did this even as I was asleep for long periods of time.

Armando, the goofy dude who misspelled “sundae”, has and continues to be the rock that holds me up when I am about to fall. He has more than upheld his end of the vows we promised each other on August 10, 1996. I know I sometimes forget to say “thank you” and I know saying “thank you” is not nearly enough. My emotional survival and physical recovery would not have been possible without him by my side.

Often, the person who is sick or is recovering from an illness gets all of the attention from family and friends. Their caregivers do not get the love and attention that they so well deserve. Armando has given up so much so he can support me. I would not have made the progress I have now if he wasn’t by my side. He has picked up the slack in terms of getting the kids to school, keeping up the housework, taking me to doctors appointments and making delicious meals! He gets tired, he gets frustrated and yet he continues to be strong not just for me, but for the boys too.

Much Love,

Momma Berna

My Broken Brain

There are two types of strokes: The ischemic stroke, which is when a blood clot forms somewhere in the body and the clot travels to the brain. The clot then blocks that part of the brain from receiving blood causing the stroke.

What I had was a hemorrhagic stroke. A vein in my brain burst which caused blood to leak . The blood then caused parts of my brain to be deprived of oxygen causing permanent damage. I was told that my brain became so swollen that it had shifted from its original position. I did not know this at the time, but the doctors told Armando that if the swelling did not go down, they might have to open up my shull (craniotomy) to relieve the pressure. They also told him, I might not survive that surgery. Thankfully, that did not happen. But I was still left with a broken brain. I have both physical and cognitive damage from the stroke.

The brain fog is really tough to deal with. Imagine waking up one day and all the colors and sounds around you have taken a very dull edge. If you are nearsighted, please remove your glasses. I know that you are now struggling with seeing things that are far away My brain now has a difficult time processing more than one sensory input at a time. If I am reading or watching something and someone starts talking to me, I would have to turn off the television or put down the Kindle for me to be able to understand what the other person is telling me. Sounds can either be too loud or too soft, my voice will sometimes be too loud or too soft.

The stroke also threw my emotions off balance. My emotional filter is gone. I feel so bad for my family as anything they say or do could send me into a crying jag or a fit of anger. It was also hard for me to feel joy. That was devastating. There were so many things that I should have been happy for but I could not feel that light, joyful feeling in my heart. I often wonder, did the stroke damage my “happy” center?

I still have trouble using my left arm and hand. It is the same with my leg. There is a miscommunication between my brain and my muscles. I describe it this way; “my brain speaks English, while my left side all of a sudden spoke only Mandarin.” They could not understand each other. My physical therapist told me I should trademark that phrase. It is a simple but effective way to describe the damage that I have on the left side of my body (hemiparesis).

I work very hard to get back all that I can physically and mentally. I know I am making progress. For now, these are the things that I really struggle with:

I have a short attention span. If I am talking and I get interrupted, there is a chance that I will not be able to continue or remember what I am talking about.
I sometimes know what I want to say, but cannot immediately find the words.
I may ask you for the same information more than once. My short term memory is finicky at best. On the plus side, I am an excellent secret keeper.
I still get tired very easily. What’s a simple task for most people takes more energy for me. Not only physically, but also mentally. I cannot walk and talk at the same time. I will either trip or lose track of our conversation.
Loud noises and crowded places zap my energy. This is getting better. I am thankful for that.
My emotions are a mess. I get easily hurt by things that should not matter. I am getting better at this, I do not like that I had my family was walking on eggshells around me.
Chronic nerve pain (neuropathy) is a constant struggle. I could be walking along all fine and dandy then the next minute BOOM, my foot would feel like it is being stabbed by a million hot, sharp pins and needles. My shoulder and thigh are also affected by this pain,

On October 28th, it will be two years since I’ve had a stroke. I believe I have made some incredible recoveries. However, I still have a very long way to go. So I keep on working, I keep on researching for new ways to improve, new treatments available, and of course good old fashioned hard work. At the same time, I will live my life fully and love whole heartedly.

Much Love,

Momma Berna