There is nothing as babying as suffering a stroke and I have reflected on it as Once a man, twice a child. A stroke is a case by case basis,if it is right sided paralysis,it implies that the right side is literally dead and non functional, this means that you won’t be able to eat by yourself and you will have to be fed meeen that’s childing and taking you back to a toddler. Some stroke victims have to eat mashed foods simply because their jaw muscles are too weak to chew so it’s a struggle.
Speech impairment due to a stroke can be challenging because yes you have the word on your mind but the word can’t come out. By the grace of God, I can speak with the hand,as for the articulation, that is for the dear reader to judge. I call this,a Silent Struggle, because I am literally speechless trying to get better with speech therapy, the ugly truth is that it won’t be perfect as before, there will be slurs, but hey, we gotta live and move, giving up is not an option. Let me paint a picture on what therapy involves, you know those vowels you said in kindergarten? That’s me so it’s safe to say that I am a baby
So with me its back to the basics A apple B ball C cake D duck and so forth. Yes it can be challenging but have I options? None is available to me except to work hard at it and accept it with grace and trudge on. It must have been last month, there is a child of my good friend to whom I send voicenotes trying to say out loud the numbers and alphabet. So far I am trying, not yet there but we shall get there. Somewhat I pronounce and call the last letter,Zed. This time I got a correction from my 5 year old teacher, she said, Uncle Mwene, its a Zee not Zed. These little grandkids of ours, who’s spoiling their English? But as an adult child, I know better,it will be a zee not Zed. We old men are stuck in the zed generation, time to adapt and grow up.
A while ago I tried to write something on paper, now Stroke literally destroys you if you had hopes of writing again with a pen,by the grace of God I can write by phone but on paper, even a 5 year old would write better than me. I was a good writer in every sense, atleast no one had described it as a terrible hand writing so it was good.
Now that explains where I am physically but not mentally, Paralysis may have taken the large part of me, but it has made the best of me. I am now trying to live, love and laugh. I don’t write so the world can pity me, I want to let people know that even at your lowest, you can smile at the storm.