recovery Archives * Survived to Thrive by Momma Berna

Embracing the New, Challenging the Old

So here we are in mid-January and I’ve already breached my new year “resolutions” list. I admit I am was of those people who say “ I don’t do resolutions, I come up with action plans!”

My “action plan’ for 2019 looks kinda like this:

- Go to bed early so I can get a better quality of sleep: But I keep getting drawn into Garcia’s computer hacking wizardry and snappy comebacks. And yeah, there’s SSA Morgan…
- Learn mindfulness and meditation. I’ve got the audiobook and ebook downloaded. I am listening to a mindfulness podcast as I work on this post! Oh, wait…
- Publish at least one blog post a week. Well, it the third week of January and this is my first one…
- Eliminate sugar from my diet. I’ve had great success on this one the last few months of 2018. I avoided juices, cookies, soda, candy and pretty much anything with added sugars to it. I survived Halloween candies and Thanksgiving pies. I felt great and had been told I look good too. Those were motivation enough to keep avoiding sugar. Tiramisu was the evilness that grabbed me by my ankles and dragged me back to the world of Wonka. I quit cold turkey last time. That might be the way to go again.
- Wake up early and plan a productive day. See number 1.
- Learn something new or improve on an old skill. I will try my hand on calligraphy again. Or perhaps learn the ukulele? Youtube, here I come!

This past holiday season was a tough one. The pain of losing my mom earlier in the year is still fresh and quite raw. I chose not to attend our extended family party this year. We have a tradition of taking family photos and I know that it would have been emotionally too painful to not have my mom there. My boys were quite busy with their own activities that we missed going to Christmas at the Park which was an annual tradition. The boys have for a few years now, abandoned waking up before dawn to open Christmas presents from Santa. Although this has been quite nice not to get up at 4 a.m after wrapping presents from Santa til 2 a.m. It is also a sign they’ve lost their childlike wonder.

family photo, Christmas, family — *Family photo from 2017*

These changes could have had me curled up into a ball or roll with it and grow with the changes. This new year will be a time to foster growth and challenge and change old habits that hinder that growth

Here I am rolling along. Armando and I have come to slowly accept that our boys are growing up and are forging their own identities and will someday form traditions of their own. As a couple, we have to adjust to this new reality and create new traditions for ourselves.

While I am not making great progress with my goal list, I am taking small steps to achieve them. And as I have learned, small steps lead to big changes.

- I make a daily to-do list: Seeing things checked off gives me a sense of satisfaction and crumpling up the list at the end of the day makes me weirdly happy.
- I use a timer: It seems simple, but it works! I set a timer while I journal, when I write a blog post, and while I read. I’ve made it a goal to read a non-fiction book for 30 minutes a day.
- Reduce distractions: No T.V until I am done with all of my essential things on my to-do list. I am also working to reduce my use of social media.
- I am setting reachable goals daily: I take into consideration my physical and mental limitations, while also stretching them out to make better progress.

Cheers to the New Year! Here’s to making progress, achieving new goals and celebrating success.

Do have tips you can share for maintaining resolutions and meeting goals?

First Trip and an Ambulance Ride

This past Saturday was supposed to be a nice, quiet day. We went to my aunt’s surprise 70th birthday party, had tons of food and enjoyed some family time. Once home, we all decided to do our own things. Scotty had a birthday party to go to, Vincent was passing time playing video games before he picked up his girlfriend. Armando had gone to see Star Wars:Solo. I decided to clean the closet in the office. I have been in a purging mode lately.

So there I was emptying bags, sorting things out for selling, recycling or trash. I was about to throw out an old box when I felt something in it. It was a piece of medical THC in candy bar form. I would make a sucky addict coz I had completely forgotten about my “stash”. I’ve had some of the candy bar before, but just small pieces and all it did was help me sleep. I had just taken my evening meds, and my dumbass decides to have some “candy”. I have never been high (shocker, right?) so I thought maybe I’ll try a bigger piece (about the size of a Hershey’s square) than I had taken before. It took awhile to kick because I kept cleaning and organizing. Then whoa! The tunnel

*Only a real friend would text something like this.*

vision kicked in. I did not know what was going on, so I sent a friend a text “what does being high feel like?” We texted back and forth, then everything got fuzzy. It was as if I just off a tilt-a-whirl, while blindfolded with sheer gauze and then given a few shots of tequila. I remember going to the kitchen to get water thinking that would help. I started to panic. I was home alone, I remember looking for the rest of the candy bar to show the medics in case I was overdosing (yeah, yeah I know…). I called Armando to ask him to come home. I was scared. All he heard was the slur in my words and he rightfully panicked.

I was fighting hard to stay awake, when the medics rushed in all I heard were “stroke”, “survivor”, “smile for me” “lift your arms”. They were assessing for stroke symptoms. There were so many things happening all at once. I was screaming for Armando, I was screaming for my kids. In the ambulance, one of the medics was inserting an IV line says “this is just a little prick” of course I responded with “that’s what she said”. I truly do not remember the rest of the ambulance ride. I apparently kept saying I was in a time loop or I was detached from my body. I think I said “it’s a good thing I am wearing nice panties.”

In the hospital, They ran me through a CT scan which thankfully did not show a stroke. Armando later told me I was saying stuff like “don’t put me on life support” “this can’t be happening again” and “I’m in a time loop”. I told one of the nurses he looked like Chris Pratt.

At some point, I must’ve told them that I had THC. Armando, understandably was pissed and relieved at the same time. The boys thought it was funny and asked why didn’t I share. My sister was there too. I had just put my family through an ordeal we all just dealt with a few months ago with my mom’s stroke.

I kept going in and out of moments of lucidity. I would close my eyes and wish that when I open them, I would be at home in bed. I remember asking the doctor “this is the real world, right?” A nurse asked me if someone slipped me something at a party. I told him, the party was for my 70 year old Aunt, and we came home at 2 P.M. Reality started to come back, slowly and then with a vengeance. The doctors and hospital staff definitely changed their attitude once they learned I had used pot and not had a stroke. It went from caring and compassion to that of annoyance and irritation. At 4:00 AM, they sent me home.

I feel so much guilt, shame and embarrassment from this whole incident. I have profusely apologized to my family for what I have put them through. I honestly do not think I could apologize enough.

I had high hopes (no pun intended) for pain and spasticity relief through THC. That unfortunate first trip caused me to be put off trying it again.

Much Love,

Momma Berna

Disclaimer: This piece is based only from my experience. I neither condone nor condemn the use of marijuana.

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

To know Me is to Understand Me

I am sure you are all familiar with “knowledge is power”. It is a well-worn adage thrown around as part of valedictorian speeches & candidate statements during campaign season. Commuters have been enlightened by the phrase through bumper stickers for ages.

We expect professionals to be knowledgeable in their fields. Heck we expect them to be downright geniuses at their chosen profession. This is especially true for our medical providers.

Thankfully, most of the medical professionals I have met are very knowledgeable. They have a very good grasp of issues related to strokes & their treatment.

Knowledge is gained through education & experience. Keeping up to date with the latest information, research & constant study helps expand knowledge in their chosen field.

But just because doctors know what they are treating, does that mean they understand their patients?

Knowing how medications work, how our bodies are supposed to work and how those meds affect our body, are great qualifications, but for me it isn’t enough.

As knowledgeable as my doctors and therapists are, I certainly would be appreciative if they also understand me as a person. Understanding is acquired on a deeper, psychological and personal level. I would like to be treated beyond being just a diagnosis and medical record number. I want this because if someone understands who I am and what my goals are, we could together forge clearer path to reaching that goal.

I met with a new physical therapist recently. As we enter her office, before I even sat down her first words to me were “You know, it has been 3 years, you should not expect too much progress right?” I slowly sat down, took a deep breath and worked on not crying my eyes out. I told her “ I will run again”. To which she replied “you could always try the paralympics”. Her words hurt and hit me hard. Not that paralympics is a bad thing, but up until that moment the thought of being a paralympian has never crossed my mind. I was and is still convinced that I will regain my “normal” running legs. I wish she had taken the time to speak to me first, get to know who I am and talk to me about my goals before she abruptly told me about the paralympics. It would also have appreciated a little more information about the paralympics before she sprung it on me.

The psychologist I saw pretty much said the same thing. She gave me the “you’ve plateaued” speech. I made an appointment with this psychologist because I wanted to talk about my frustrations and anxieties about my recovery. The first thing I told her was “I don’t want anymore meds.” She went through her list of questions, I opened up a bit. Then she says “I’m going to set up an appointment with one of our psychiatrist, he can talk to you about maybe adding more medications or increasing your dose. I met with her wanting to have someone i could objectively speak to regarding my fears, anxieties & frustrations about my recovery. I did not want someone who will medicate me to numbness. She continued to insist on medications. I did not make a return appointment.

Hospital staff & medical professionals are short on time. They are under pressure to get patients in & out of the clinic in order to serve more people. But taking a few minutes to ask questions, looking beyond a medical record would mean so much to the patient who you will see on a regular basis. Be a person we can trust to not judge our deficiencies and dismiss our goals. Be one who is willing to help us reach those goals. If the goals are unrealistic, please meet us in the middle and help us to get there. Stroke survivors fight daily to overcome our deficits. Although, we have support from our family and friends It really helps to have our medical professionals understand us so that all of our bases are covered. Healing and recovery goes on much smoothly if we are well supported.

What would you want your doctors or therapists to understand about you?

Do you feel that you are able to talk to your medical team and express your needs & goals?

P.S I have been seeing the same PT, we’ve had a couple of sessions since that fateful first meeting. I believe I have shown her what I am capable of achieving. Her & I are now working hard to get me back to running!

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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

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