stroke blogger Archives * Survived to Thrive by 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

Left Frustrated

The moment I was able to flip the bird with my left hand again felt like victory and awesomeness.

When my brain broke, I Iost the use of my left side. The technical term is hemiplegia. It is often referred as one sided paralysis. My left arm, shoulder and hands clung to my side tightly. It was painful to even try to move. My fingers were in a closed tight fist so thst my nails were cutting into my palm. Spasticity keeps my fingers stuck together as if they are bound by a thick rubber band.

It is incredibly frustrating that very simple things are so very difficult to do. Getting dressed, eating and even holding a book became impossible (thank goodness for Kindle). I had to learn a new way of dressing myself, how to put on a bra – ladies, it wasn’t easy nor was it pretty. Getting tangled in my own bra was quite interesting.

At first, I was embarrassed to ask my boys or my husband to cut up my food. I would have gone hungry. I’ve learned to order food that does not require any cutting when I am out with friends, I did not want to ask them to slice up my dinner for me. Eating a sandwich is still tricky and messy.

I am right handed so I thought that not having the use of my left would not be a big deal. Wrong! I took for granted how seamlessly my shoulders, arms and hands worked together. I live the metaphor “with one hand tied behind my back”.

Three years post stroke, I still have a long way to go for my left hand to be fully functional. I do a lot of stretching, weight bearing and fine motor skills training (picking up small and large objects etc.).

Looking back, I have made major improvements:

I am able to tie my own shoes again! Youtube has multiple videos of one handed shoe lace tying, but they are more complicated than I preferred. I had elastic, no tie laces which were very helpful, but I wanted to tie my laces on my own. Who knew that at my age (don’t ask), I would celebrate being able to tie my own shoe laces!
I could now keep my fingers open. This is great because: I am not hurting my own hand anymore, I could cut my own nails without someone else prying my hand open. I could get manicures! I could even cut my right fingernails with my left hand. With some modifications.
“It puts the lotion on it’s skin” that’s with my left hand on my right arm.
I am now able to use a can opener. The manual one. I won’t starve anymore. YAY!!!
I could open a bottle of wine! (this should be number one on this list).
I could turn the door knob with my left hand.
I am now able to lift my arm up to my ear and hold it there for a few seconds without assistance.
I could fold laundry (sshhh, let’s keep that on the d.l).

gym hair, pony, left hemiplagia,stroke survivor hair, pony, long hair, — ***Gym pony by the hubby. He’s good,right?***

There are many things that are done day to day that for most of my life I have taken for granted . Just combing and putting my hair in a ponytail takes the coordinating action of my shoulder, upper arm, lower arm, hand and freely moving fingers. My husband has gotten really good at putting my hair up. He still needs to learn the fine art of French braiding, I also need to get my boys trained at this skill. I am happy to say that both of them have learned how to help me with my jewelry.

I am still wary around knives. Cutting veggies is scary when at any time my left fingers could slip right under the blades of a sharp knife.

Typing is literally a pain. Typing with one hand is slow and tedious. Typing with one hand and having a crappy short term memory is very, very frustrsting. I am using this program to improve my typing skills, right now I am up to 10 words a minute! WOOHOO!!! I looked into speech to text software, but the price tag left me…umm…speechless.

I have been stuck with the idea that using adaptive equipment means I am giving up. Lately, I am realizing things would be less frustrating if I adapt rather than struggle. I would be more self reliant if I use things that could aid me, rather than getting frustrated because it’s “too hard” do things. This one handed chopping board is an example.

My accomplishments are small, yet they are the steps that I build on. Eventually, my brain synapses will fire up again and make new connections. It is a long, frustrating road. Imagine traffic on the Interstate during rush hour. Or for my Bay Area readers hwy 880 anytime of the day (emirite??)

splint, hand splint, stroke survivor, occupational therapy — ***My super sexy night hand split. It is to train my fingers to stay straight.***

I continue to hone my gross and fine motor skills. My arm and hand moves like an amusement park claw machine. Slow, unreliable and drops things when you think you’re about to get the prize.

Much Love,

Momma Berna

Low Heels, High Expectations

I love shoes. I would switch between sexy heels and sweaty running shoes. Nowadays, I live in Tom’s canvas shoes and since it’s winter, I get to wear boots with the fur (enjoy that earworm. You’re welcome 🙂 )

My husband and I were invited to a birthday party. I wanted to get all dressed up. I ordered myself a form fitting dress and feeling brave, I picked up a pair of not so high heeled sandals. I practiced walking around the house and I did fairly well. I was able to keep my balance and my left foot felt strong.

The day of the party came. I got my hair and face done, squeezed myself into my dress and strapped on my shoes. As an afterthought, I had my husband bring a pair of my trusty canvas shoes.

We got lucky and found a parking spot about a block away from the restaurant and club where the party was happening. By lucky, I mean we had to drive around downtown for an hour where every parking structure and over priced lots were full.

Walking on the sidewalk is a whole different ball game than walking around the house. I was very, very wobbly. I was grabbing on to my husband’s arm as if my life depended on it. It did. I was trying to walk gracefully, but it was not happening.

As we walked in the restaurant, a few people were staring. Looking at my feet, looking at me and shaking their heads. Since I really do not have any visible damage from the stroke, wobbling the way I did and having a death grip on my husband made it seem like I was drunk. I knew people were looking and judging. I kept walking knowing I have good friends, good food and good champagne waiting.

I headed to the bathroom after dinner, my foot at this point was done. Walking really poorly, I managed to roll my ankle and I heard a slight pop. Panic set in and I was leaning on my husband not wanting to put weight on my foot. That was when two young women walked out of the bathroom. They stared, whispered and giggled. I was visibly upset thinking that I had sprained/broken my ankle. Armando led me to one of the chairs in the lobby and the two young women were standing by the elevator still giggling, phones out. I’ve had enough. I told them loudly “I am not drunk” (which on hindsight made me sound like a real drunk). I was about to tear them a new one, but my husband stepped in and diffused the situation. I was in pain and I was scared that I had broken my already weak ankle that I have been working so hard to get stronger. I was upset that there are people who would laugh at another’s suffering.

What happened to kindness, empathy or sympathy? Was I expecting too much? I was obviously in pain and was distraught and the young ladies quite possibly were sharing my situation on their social media. When have people become desensitized to another’s pain that instead of offering comfort, they offer social media fodder. The amount of “likes” and responses validates the poor behavior. I got over the judging looks and whispered remarks, heck I know I looked drunk and wobbly. What bothered me is that there are people out there who callously would laugh about someone else’s pain. Finding validation for bad behavior will only encourage those young ladies to find their next “victim”. There were many opportunities for someone to show kindness that evening. A kind word or a sympathetic smile would have been sufficient.

laughter, expectations, party — Still Standing

Thankful that I brought my reliable Tom’s and my foot was not broken, I was still able to hobble and I still looked hot (or a hot mess) at the party. It was AH-MAY-ZING!!! The music was heavily 90’s and the dancing was fun. Drinks were flowing and the company great. Lots of laughs and shenanigans ensued. One of the advantages of having a crappy short term memory is that I temporarily forgot about the ugliness at the restaurant and I enjoyed the party! My husband and I had a much needed night out.

Hope the New Year brings you joy, love and kindness!

Much Love,

Momma Berna

high expectations, low heel, — **The Aftermath**

Thank You and Thankful for You

Thanksgiving week is over, I hope that everyone enjoyed platefuls of turkey and stuffing followed by a tryptophan induced nap and have survived the annual mass hysteria known as Black Friday. In the spirit of gratitude, I’d like to give a

online shopping, friday, gratitude — *How I Black Friday.*

big shout out and a big thank you to the people who support, help and encourage stroke survivors and other survivors to lead more productive, healthy and thriving lives.

I am fortunate to be surrounded by amazing family who are also my caregivers: My husband, My children, my sister And my mom. My mother and sister-in-law also give tremendous help and support.

Caregivers give so much, it seems impossible to tell them how much they are appreciated. Material things will not be enough to express our thanks. I know this list is short, I have wracked my brain for answers and I cannot seem to come up with something that would be able to truly express my gratitude.

*The Turkey Trot has become a family tradition. The family that wobbles together… The boys run, the husband & I wobble.*

1. Say what you mean. Our caregivers are not mind readers, we sometimes feel that they “should” know what is it that we want or need. Try not to say things like “it would be nice if I had a warm blanket” or “ Is there anyone here who could get me some water?”. It might be hard to ask, specially for the simple things we used to be able to do. But being direct, but polite eliminates a lot of misunderstanding and resentment.

2. Give them space. The first year after the stroke specially the first six months, I was worried about being left alone. I also did not like going outside. My family was held “hostage” by my fear. Armando, my husband was still working full time, so he would put in 9 hour work days, then come home and take over for my mom to care for me. The boys were busy with school, so they help out when they can. Armando was essentially “on” 24/7. He needed a break. I managed to kick him out of the house to hang with friends before he burned out. Since then we have learned that having some time for ourselves is essential for our sanity. He now works from home, so getting some alone time is even more important. The people who take care of us, must also take care of themselves, be it some time at the gym or going out with friends. Time when they can just breath and relax without having to worry about pain levels, medications or cutting up food.

3. Encourage them to join a support group. As much as we need support and other people who understand & know how we feel, our caregivers need the same. They need other people to be a sounding board, to get new ideas from and most importantly a place where they could bitch about us (Ha!).

4.Give your recovery your best effort. We all want to get back to our normal lives and to be able to do things on our own. Our caregivers want the same for us. Armando beams with pride when he sees me working out or doing physical therapy. I know in my heart he is happy to see me working hard and trying. He posts more photos on Instagram than I do! Our loved ones our caregivers have invested a lot of time with us and for us. I feel that watching us work hard, putting in the effort and slowly make our way back to recovery is as satisfying to them as it is to us.

5.Say “Thank You”. Seems obvious, I know. But there are times I forget or worse yet, I take their help for granted. Sometimes I get caught up with my deficits and self pity I fail to see how much my family does for me. Our caregivers give us the support we need: emotionally and/or physically. Express gratitude often and openly. This simple phrase means so much.

I know this list is short and inadequate. I cannot come up with anything that would be able to truly express how grateful I am. Do you have any ideas? If you are a caregiver, what is it that you would like? Please let me know in the comments!

Much Love,

Momma Berna

Speaking Up

In August of 2016, I opted to have a Baclofen pump implanted in my abdomen. It was my hope that the pump would help reduce the spasticity in my affected leg allowing me to run again. Of course my decision was based on more than just running. I wanted to be able to keep up with my boys, be less conscious of how I walk and gain the confidence I had lost. I understood that the pump is only a tool, and I would need to put in the work to reach my goals. And I was and am willing to put in the work. I stretched, exercised and stretched some more. I am putting in the effort to rewire my brain to recognize that my foot is actually a part of my body.

One year and two months later, I have not seen much success from the pump. I noticed small changes like my foot no longer curls up allowing me to wear sandals again (yay!), my foot now lifts completely from the ground allowing for a much easier heel to toe movement. Although it still happens once in a while, my leg no longer swings out from my hip when I walk. Otherwise, the spasticity is still high which results in my leg still feeling like it is 50 pounds heavier than the rest of my body, my knee still does not bend when i walk giving me a very awkward gait and poor balance.

One might think that running is simply putting one foot in front of the other in a faster pace than walking.HA! The biomechanics of running is complicated so I will not even try to explain, but let the experts educate you.

All my life I have been conditioned to listen to my doctor and to follow orders without question. After all, doctors know everything, right? Naah.

My email to my doctor got an auto “out of office reply” so I am waiting for him to get back so I could discuss my issue with the pump. I have been warned that the tone in my leg might be what is holding me up. Hence, the hesitation to raise the dose. I have told the doctor that I feel it is much easier to work with no tone, than too much tone. I’ve not tested this theory, but i am willing to try if I am given the chance. I am willing to take the chance. So, bring it on!

I understand doctors are cautious, I understand there are protocols to follow but I know my body. I know how far and how hard I can push myself.

The New York City Marathon is happening next weekend. NYCM is my bucket list race and it was my goal to run the 26.2 miles this year. I have not given up.

I may have overestimated the “power” of the ITB pump, but I do know that I had put in the work. And I am willing to put in more.

Much love,

Momma Berna

My Year of Running Virtually

I have been an ambassador for a local running club three years in a row. Represent Running is a group which promotes running locally, meeting and running with awesome people and promoting 3 Bay Area races in three different, but equally beautiful cities: San Jose (408k), San Francisco (415k) & the East Bay (510k). Each race highlights the beauty and culture of the city it is representing. My job as an ambassador is to promote the races, spread running joy and discounts on social media. In the past years, I have been able to to run/walk the races “live” meaning I am there at the event toeing the start line along with everyone. Unfortunately for this year, I was sidelined for all three of the races! I had to run the races virtually – This type of virtual running does not involve virtual reality glasses while sat on the couch.

The 408k ( 8k-4.9 miles) is my favorite local race. After all it represents San Jose, runs through downtown and local neighborhoods. Accentuated by the Mariachi mile at around the 4 mile mark. The finish is at the tony Santana Row where area restaurants lure in finishers with bottomless mimosas. The week of the race I was struggling with vertigo. Staying on my feet made me incredibly nauseous. I was hoping the symptoms would go away that weekend. Vincent & I picked up my bib at Santa Row. We walked the Row for a bit, but after a couple of stores I thought I was going to hurl on an overpriced shawl (tbh, I probably felt sick about the price too). I was feeling optimistic so I got my race gear ready, set my alarm and went to bed early with hopes that I would be able to stay on my feet next day. Unfortunately, when i got up on race morning, I felt like I just came off a triple loop roller coaster instead of my comfy bed.

The 415K is the San Francisco installment of this race series. The backdrop of this race is the Golden Gate bridge. The 12k takes runners across the bridge and the 5k runs along the Pacific Ocean. The weekend this race was on, the Bay Area was experiencing a heat wave. My silly, dumbass self thought it was a good idea to walk a couple of laps at the Relay for Life for our city. The day of the race, I woke up with excruciating neuropathy on my foot. It felt like I was walking on hot coals.

The 510k was the final installment of the Run the Bay series, this one is set in the East Bay. I missed that one too, I was scheduled for cranial angiogram the next day and my anxiety was running high.

The virtual race:

For those uninitiated, a virtual race is where one signs up for a specific race, for a distance specified by the race but instead of joining the hundreds of people on race day, one would set their own date & location. I find running a virtual race challenging. There are no cheering crowds, no aid stations, be no cheery faced volunteer handing me my medal at the finish line. Instead, the medal arrives in the mail and the only race photos are selfies (at least they’re free!).

The race becomes a battle in my own head. I have to fight the voice that tells me it’s time to quit, the voice that says I don’t need to put myself through this. I could just stop no one is watching.

I am quite fortunate that I only had to run one of these virtual races alone. My long time friend and partner in insanity Tammy has joined me in most of my virtual races.

*408k Virtual at Shoreline in Mountain View,CA*

Writing this makes me sad. I am realizing that I have been experiencing setback after setback. I have not reached goals that I have been working hard for. I thought I would have been further along in my recovery. Instead, I gave up on a 10k earlier this year. I have two more 5ks coming up before the end of the year and I really would like to do them live.

As much as I love being an ambassador for Represent Running, I am debating if I will apply to be in next year’s team. I do not feel that I am representing if I am not running.

The connections between my brain and leg have not yet established my need to run. I still have to constantly remind my legs I am running. Otherwise, I will start walking . This constant dialogue is mentally and emotionally exhausting.

I long to run with my friends again. I want to be an active part of a running community. I will continue to work hard to get my running legs back and to get my body and mind stronger.

Much Love,

Momma Berna

Walking Universal

Harry Potter experience,Universal Experience — *The entrance to magic!*

July 20th 2017, my family set out on our first “real vacation” after the stroke. I was apprehensive. I used to be in ~~control~~ charge of every detail of our vacations, down to packing up the car for the road trip. I dubbed myself the Tetris champion of luggage packing. I was able to cram luggage for 4 people, snacks and “other essentials” in the back of the Impala (may she RIP) and now the CR-V. It is not easy to not be in ~~control~~ charge anymore. The boys are older and they can pack their own luggage– so what if they only pack one pair of undies– and I instructed them on how to arrange the bags in the car trunk. My anxiety was still high. What if I get sick in the car? What I didn’t bring enough meds? What if ? what if? What if I just take a deep breath and just enjoyed myself?

elevators, crowds, — One of four very long & crowded escalators.

Saturday, July 22, 2017, my sister celebrated her birthday at Universal Studios Hollywood. She booked us for the VIP tour and boy it was posh! The day started with a delicious breakfast which we almost missed coz our GPS led us astray. After inhaling yummy pastries (sorry no pics), we met with our guide. VIP perk #1 we get to jump the line on any ride we choose! Which was very much appreciated. It was around 1,000 degrees and the park had about a million guests that day! Our first stop was the lower studio. I had forgotten that “lower studio” meant four super crowded, super long escalator rides down. And we had to keep up with our fast moving tour group. I love the rides at Universal, I love thrill rides in general. But this time I was apprehensive, I didn’t know how my broken brain will react to the jostling, shaking and speed of the rides. The boys were worried that I will have another stroke if I get on the rougher (fun) rides. I got on Jurassic Park since I know it was pretty mild and really wet which was a plus in the hot weather.

***The big dinos were out to say hello!***

Jurassic ride, Universal Studios Hollywood — ***Whew !!! it was wet!***

The moment i have been waiting for finally arrived! We were at the Harry Potter Experience! I was so giddy, I swear I would have floated away if Armando wasn’t holding my hand. It.Was.Glorious!!! The snow on the roof tops, the shops and the owls! And of course Moaning Myrtle was in the bathroom being her old, irritable self. It was understandable that my son was nervous about my getting on the The Forbidden Journey ride. Our guide

Hogwarts castle, magic, Harry Potter — Hogwarts:The outside was great, but inside was enchanting!

described it as fast paced, rough and with lots of flashing lights (in my mind: FUN). The ride was UH-MAY-ZING! I would love to get into detail, but it is something to be experienced. Yes, I went twice.

I am proud of myself for keeping up with the tour group. I am proud of my mom for keeping up s well. It was definitely fast paced. I am sure the other folks in the group were a tad impatient with us. My mom braved the Walking Dead attraction. Speaking of, how many people could say “I was bit! I was bit” while exiting the attraction and actually walk the part!

zombies,amc walking dead,scary — ***The Walking Dead Attraction***

I knew that going on vacation will not be the same after the stroke. I will be slower, the kids will worry and for now, I will have limitations. But I am determined that I will not be held back. I was going to rent a wheelchair for the day. I am glad that I decided against it. This was a challenge I overcame. The heat, the crowds, the noise and the pace of the tour were challenging. We had to keep up with a group of 6 able-bodied people. I more than once considered dropping out of the group, but I am glad I didn’t. We saw places at Universal Studios that are not open to the general public. At the end of the day, I was wiped. I could not think straight, my leg refused to move and I felt like i had no control of my body anymore. I knew that the neurofatigue would be kicking my ass the coming days (and it did).

I am looking forward to more vacations and more adventures. My disability might slow me down, but it will not limit me. I admit I tire easily, I am slower and it takes longer for me to recover. I am not ready to stop. If I am too slow for some people, they can move ahead of me and I will hobble my way to the adventure that awaits me.

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

Do You Have the Time?

Let’s talk about doctor’s appointments. No one ever really looks forward to them, they take up a lot of time and we don’t usually get the best news from a doctor’s office ( don’t eat that, lose this, start doing that). So when we head to an appointment, we already some anxiety building up.

Earlier this week, I had an appointment with the Physical Rehab & Medicine doctor. My husband and I left the house one hour before the appointment which was 11 miles away. But this is the Bay Area and the traffic is a nasty bitch. Even with the extra time, we were going to be late. I called the office to let them know. The person I spoke with asked how late will we be, I said about ten minutes. She replied “Oh okay, that’s fine. If it’s fifteen minutes, we will have to reschedule”. We made it and were only five minutes late! Yay! I checked in & was informed that the doctor was running 20 minutes late! Half an hour later, they called me in. As soon as I stepped into the exam room, I was once again told “the doctor will be right with you, he is with another patient.” Really ? Really? I called to tell them we were running late, they couldn’t have told me “ oh that’s ok, take your time. Tell you what, stop by and grab a coffee. “ Instead, I was sat in the exam room for another 25 minutes. I had done some complaining on Facebook and the only magazine in the room was a year old copy of Arthritis Monthly. It was a bad time for me to leave my Kindle at home. I was scheduled for an adjustment of my Baclofen pump and Botox for my arm. The doctor arrived, apologetic. He apologized for being late and he apologized for not having the adjustment machine! There is only one for the Santa Clara area. Hey, I know medical equipment can be expensive, but this is a big hospital system!

I got Botox shots for my wrist & hand. I have to choose where I think it would be most helpful as I can only get so much Botox at a time. The Botox is only effective for three months, so in those three months I have to work, work, work my hand! See, all these treatments are temporary. The hard work of re-wiring is all up to me.

I made another appointment for the adjustment, keeping my fingers crossed they will have the machine that day. Getting to appointments is still complicated as I am not driving yet. The doctor wants to do another assessment.

Thank you for reading through my rant. I know it is WAY too much to expect to get a courtesy call from doctor’s offices to let their patients know that they are running late or them to consider that our time is valuable too.

Have you had an experience similar to mine?

Does your clinic or doctor give you a courtesy call if they are running late?

Much Love,

Momma Berna

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