KWWL Somone You Should Know

About two weeks after I had my stroke, I was asked if I would allow KWWL to feature me in their Someone You Should Know segment (SYSK).  I was deep in to my first week of therapy at Covenant rehabilitation.  I vividly remember just starting my PT session when my PT told me that the hospital had been contacted by the station.  She told me that they had heard of my story and seen my posts on Facebook and really wanted to share my story.  And then she asked, "so, what do you think?"

What did I think?

Instant panic and fear rushed through me.  Before she even finished explaining everything to me I had already decided that I wasn't going to do it.  I was terrified about being the center of attention; the camera, the spotlight, who was watching.  I was embarrassed about the way I looked.  Quite simply, I no longer had an ounce of confidence left.  Plus, everything that had happened was still so raw and fresh in my mind that I didn't think I was ready to handle it emotionally.  It is much easier to sit behind my iPad and write than it is to speak of my story sometimes, especially in the beginning.  When I write I take my time, cry as much as I want, and I never have to worry about forgetting something important.  I never gave it more than 15 seconds of thought and I regretted it.

But, I got another chance.  Shortly after I had Myah, KCRG contacted me and asked to do a segment on me.  Once again, I turned them down.  Even though I regretted my decision months prior to that, I still wasn't ready.  I just wasn't.

Then, last Tuesday night, Ryan Downs, owner of Next Level Extreme Fitness, messaged me and told me that he had nominated me for the SYSK segment and that Ashley Davis, from KWWL, would be calling me on Wednesday.  Patrick and I had just put the girls down and had just sat down to watch some TV.  My reaction?  All I said was,"oh shit."  I panicked again.  My heart instantly started racing.  The first thing I wanted to do was say thanks, but no thanks.  Instead, feeling the peer pressure, I expressed how nervous I already was for it and how honored I was by the nomination.  He replied with, "Don't be nervous :) because I am making you do it!"  For those of you that know Downs you can totally picture that, right?  ;)

The next day I was still undecided as to whether I was going to agree to the interview.  I was terrified, but I ultimately determined that I could not let my fears stop me from experiencing life or from helping others.  I do not know what my future holds for me and I want my kids to remember me as I am now.  This segment was the perfect avenue to show them that.  In addition, if there is someone out there that can be helped by my story, I want to help them.  I figured God was giving me a pretty big nudge to do this considering this was the third time that I had been asked.  I have to let those nudges guide me more often than I do.

Ashley and I set up an interview date for Friday.  She was going to film me at the 4:30 p.m. NLXF gauntlet, interview Downs, and then come over to our home to film us as a family and interview Patrick and I.  The entire day I was so nervous I was sick.  Upset tummy, racing heart, couldn't eat; just an absolute hot mess.  My Dad and Mom met me at home before workout because they were going to help pick up the kids from school, feed them supper, and entertain them throughout the night.  Seeing them, plus a few silly snap chats from friends, helped calm me a bit before class.

Once I got to the gym, I was nervous all over again.  But Patrick and my close group of friends arrived shortly after I did and it turned in to just another day.  Ashley arrived around 5 p.m. and filmed the remainder of class.  IT WAS A HARD CLASS!!  The clocks had been taken off the walls and there was no drink break.  Typical week 5 gauntlet.

After class Patrick and I rushed home, showered, ate, and helped my parents get the girls ready.  Ashley arrived around 6:30 and away we went. Surprisingly, I wasn't nervous.  I am not sure if it was because I had used up all of my nerves throughout the day, or that I was on a workout high, that Ashley was awesome, or I was simply comfortable being in our home with our girls and my parents.  It was definitely weird trying to act normal with a camera set up in the corner of our living room!

Ashley stayed for two hours.  She was exceptional.  The kids became her best friends instantly and she was so laid back that it put us at ease too.  During her time at the house she filmed us as a family and interviewed Patrick and I.  We talked about everything: the week of my stroke, rehab, Myah's pregnancy and birth, my blog, the Do Better.  Be Better. motto, the benefit, color run, and scholarship, NLXF Adopt-A-Family, Patrick's perspective, how much we love our army, how grateful we are for NLXF, Downs, the trainers, and the people of NLXF, and what I have learned and how I have changed.  15 1/2 months rolled up in to two hours of video.  There was so much to explain that I just kept saying, "I feel like I am just rambling!"  I have absolutely no idea how she edited all of that footage to 2 minutes.  But she did, and it was perfect.

My parents left shortly after Ashley.  They gave all of us hugs and complemented us on how well we had done.  They expressed how proud they were of us and how excited they were to see it.  I was so grateful to have them there.  Not just because it was so helpful to have them help with the girls, but I wanted them to see us, see me, tell my story.  I wanted them to hear it all.  I wanted them to go through this experience with me.

After they left, we put the girls to bed.  Later that night, Ashley posted her promo of our segment to Facebook.  We literally watched it 20 times.  I am not ashamed to admit that.  We were on a high.  We couldn't sleep.  Did I say the right thing?....I should have said this instead.  Neither Patrick or I could believe that we had just been interviewed and that we were going to be on TV.  How did this happen?  I always joke that it wasn't part of the original life plan to have a stroke, a blog, benefits and fundraisers, a scholarship, an organization, or lead up the Adopt-A-Family program.  This is uncharted waters for us.  But it happened, and we are living it, and sometimes the best things in life are unplanned.

Sunday came quickly.  That day Ashley tweeted and shared our story on Facebook.  KWWL also posted our story to their Facebook page.  It was liked 1,292 times, shared 93 times, and had 32 comments.  And Twitter too!...I actually set up a Twitter account over the weekend so I could see it all.  Ashley also shared some other pictures we took that night. ;-)  Jaelyn insisted that we take a funny family picture.  And Patrick insisted on sending our friends a picture of him in Ashley's KWWL coat.  

We DVR'd every news broadcast.  My heart beat so forcefully as I watched the 5pm promo that I am sure you could see it through my chest.  It is very strange to watch yourself on TV.  I critiqued everything I said and did the first few times I watched.  My mom called immediately after it aired, explaining that it looked great and that they were excited to see the rest.  After we hung up, we had the girls come in to the living room and watch it with us.  They all immediately starting screaming, "there's Mommy!" and then, "that's me!" as they saw themselves.  We had told them that Ashley was at our house to make a movie project for us as I had just completed a project for my brother and sister.  We didn't know how they would behave on Friday night if they knew it was for TV; they tend to get a little shy with that type of stuff.  So, they were very surprised to see themselves on TV.

We didn't let the girls stay up for the 10 pm broadcast.  I wasn't nearly as nervous watching it.  I watched the TV, seeing and knowing it was me...us....our family....my story, but being in complete disbelief that it actually was me and my story.  As I have said a million times before, I still cannot believe that any of this has happened.  Patrick and I even chuckled a little when the news anchor switched the Do Better.  Be Better. motto around at the end of the segment.  We may have watched it a few times. ;-)

The next morning, we got the girls ready and watched it with them.  They were still just as excited to see themselves and even more excited to see their new friend, Ashley.  It was really quite cute.

 Read the article by clicking here!   

KWWL Someone You Should Know: Jamie Smith

From Friday night to Monday night, my phone was crazy.  I had so many text messages, Facebook notifications, and phone calls.  Monday at school was fun too.  My students got a kick out of seeing me on TV and it was really neat to have a conversation with them about it.  And my coworkers gave me a round of applause at our faculty meeting.  The love and support we received from everyone was truly overwhelming.  It was just another testament to how instrumental all of you are to my recovery--scratch that--to our lives.

So how do I feel about this experience?  Grateful, lucky, and blessed.  I am once again indebted to Ryan Downs for nominating me for this and "forcing" me to do it.  I am extremely appreciative to Ashley for her professionalism and positive demeanor.  I absolutely loved the story and we will cherish it forever.  I am blessed to have family that help us at the drop of a hat and lucky to have friends that will switch their day around to come support me through a workout, or send me hilarious snap chats, and encouraging and supportive messages.  I am proud of myself for overcoming all of my fears from day one to now.

Most importantly, I am grateful that God has helped me find my way.  He has given me the ability and strength to recover.  He has protected our family.  He has put people in our lives that are His angels on Earth.  And finally, I am grateful that He continues to give me the gentle nudges that guide me to do His work.

This entire experience was definitely one for the memory books.

 

 

Fight Back with Joy

There are many times in a day that I think to myself, "I would have never made it through all of this without _____."  That blank is filled by many things, but almost always it is filled by either my family or my friends.  The amount of kindness and encouragement I have been given and continue to receive is immeasurable.  Nearly everyday I have someone tell me they are praying for me, or I have a nice email, message, or post on my wall, or am simply welcomed by a huge smile, happy hello, and a warm hug by those around me.

I am also constantly asked how I continue to be strong, positive, and happy.  That answer is easy.

I AM because of YOU.

Reread my first paragraph.  It is impossible to feel Void of joy with what I encounter on a daily basis.

All of the messages I get are game changers for me.  Some inspire me, some motivate me, some teach me, and some make me feel like my heart could burst.  And some just click.

I was sent an email yesterday from one of my friends that said the following:

I love this author, and reading it made me instantly think of you. You fight everyday with joy and hope. You have taught us all so much.

http://www.shaunaniequist.com/fight-back-joy/

The words in her email alone made me tear up.  It is still unfathomable to me that people tell me that they learn from me.  Shoot, half the time I feel like I am barely holding on.  Like I am a floating bubble ready to pop at any minute. 

The link sent me to the blog of author, Sahuna Niequist.  The blog post was about a book entitled, Fight Back With Joy, written by her close friend, Margaret Feinberg.  Margaret is currently battling cancer.  An excerpt of the book follows a brief introduction of their friendship and Margaret's history.

Tears slowly fell as I read it.  I was emotional because I could relate on so many levels; right down to her explaining about how her husband could read her eyes.  And then as I continued to read it, something clicked.  Here are bits and pieces of what I found as my learning moment:    

It’s one thing to hunt for joy in the relatively good times of life, but to squint for it in the dark shadows. No one signs up for that assignment. No one.

......sooner or later we all find ourselves on the battlefield.

Sometimes you choose the fight. Sometimes the fight chooses you.

......All who find themselves in a confrontation—one they choose or one that is thrust upon them—face an important choice: What will you choose for weaponry?

.....We can choose to fight back with the crossbow of cynicism or sling arrows of spite. Like a throwing star, we may choose sharp complaints. Like a whip, we may attempt to control every little detail. Or perhaps, like me, a natural lover more than fighter, you’re drawn to the circular shield of denial and withdrawal.

 .....When it comes to the fights of life, we need joy to be our companion. 

I didn't choose this fight.  This fight definitely chose me.  But I did chose the weaponry of joy.  Actually, joy found me.  More so, joy is given to me.

Patrick gives me joy every minute of every day.  I feel it each time he tells me that I am strong and thanks me for fighting back and staying with him.   He gives me joy in the many ways he shows true selflessness for my well-being.  And there is no greater joy in the world than watching him be a father to our daughters.  The highlight of my day is watching the reaction of the girls when he gets home.  The big three race to the door, screaming Daddy at the top of their lungs, and about knock him over with the force of their hugs as he enters our home.  All the while, Myah crawls as fast as she can right behind them, stops, sits down, and claps and giggles until he picks her up.  That is the definition of joy.

My daughters each give me joy in their own ways.  Seeri in the way that she cares for and helps others.  Jaelyn through her spunk and zest for life.  Linden with her big smile and sweet "I love you's."  And Myah with her constant need to just BE with me.  They give me joy when they tell me to put a band-aid on my head so I can get better; ah, their innocence is beautiful.  Their hugs, their smiles, their silly faces; they just make me want to burst with joy.

My parents give me joy every time they tell me they are proud of me and in the ways that they still take care of their little girl.  My entire family gives me joy by pursuing their dreams and happiness; getting married, having babies, excelling in their careers and interests.  They are a powerful example of what it means to fight through the shadows and find a light.  They are always by our sides encouraging and supporting us.  We are never alone because of all of them.

My friends give me joy through the continual thoughtfulness and kindness they extend to me and my family.  If I embark on a new endeavor, they are always there to support me.  If I feel ill, they check-up on me.  If I am sad, they listen.  If I am happy, they celebrate with me.  They are more than friends.  They are family.

So, what is my weaponry in this fight?

The JOY that YOU ALL give me.

Thank you.

Taking Faith to the Next Level: Cailee Jo

On Monday morning, our summer nanny and dear friend, Cailee Jo, presented her senior chapel address at Wartburg College.  Her topic of discussion was about taking faith to the next level.  She had asked me if she could speak of her experience with us in her message.  I said yes without hesitation.

That morning she had emailed Patrick and I her speech.  I bawled as I read it.  The service had been uploaded to Knight Vision by lunch.  Patrick and I sat and watched it over our lunch break.  Please watch below.  It is the second one from the top and she begins her message at about the 17:50 minute marker.

Cailee Jo's Senior Chapel

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I watched her speak.  It was one thing to read her words, but to watch her interject her caring voice and positive and confident demeanor was just breathtaking.  I was so proud of her for speaking such wise words at a young age.  She made me feel honored, comforted, reassured, and hopeful all in the same breath.  Quite simply, I felt God's presence by my side as I watched with Patrick.  Like He was standing right there with us with His hands on our shoulders.    

I have spoken and written about my stroke many times.  But it is an entirely different experience to listen to others speak about it--how they reacted when they heard about it, how they view my recovery, what they have learned--it truly overwhelms me.

Sometimes I am apologetic when I hear these things.  I feel sorry for making them all so scared and worried and I struggle to hold back emotion because my heart aches for them.  It is almost suffocating in a way. All I want to do is comfort them but I can't because I am the reason they are hurting in the first place.  It is a very unique and confusing position to be in.

Other times, I feel really, really, freaking lucky.  When it all went down (my new summative phrase for the ER night) I was just focused on Myah and her safety.  I never really gave myself time to think about how serious it was for me.  To hear the story from other peoples perspective sheds a whole new light on that night.  I don't let myself think about it for too long because it is terrifying.

Most of the time I feel humbled, flattered, and honored.  It will never cease to amaze me how deeply beautiful and kind many people are.  I am constantly lifted up and shown hope and strength because of the graciousness I receive from others.  It is astounding what positive support and encouragement can do for a person.  

All the time, though, I am in complete disbelief.  I can't believe I had stroke and all the deficits and recovery that came with it.  I can't believe I was pregnant when it happened and have since delivered a healthy, happy, and beautiful little lady.  I can't believe I have been honored with an award, a benefit, a color run, scholarships, and a foundation.

I can't believe this is my life.

BUT, I LOVE IT.

When Patrick and I finished watching Cailee, I hugged him and we cried.  After awhile, he managed to ask me if I ever thought I would be the subject of Wartburg Chapel.  My response:  I can't believe a lot of things anymore.  How can I?  This all can't be real.  It is mind boggling to me.

But it is real and I learn something from it everyday.  As I watched Cailee, her convictions about faith touched me.  But the following is what inspired me (taken from Motivational Grid):

“You can always come up with an excuse why you can’t do [or believe in] something. And you can say ‘I’m going to wait for the conditions to be perfect before I go out [or believe in this]. The conditions are never perfect. If you wait for the conditions to be perfect, to make your dream a reality, [to truly believe in something], then you’re going to be sitting on your dream for the rest of your life. If you want something, go get it. [Believe in it.]”

“Ignore the non-believers. If you have an idea, you’re going to have people in your life who are doubters. Who don’t believe in what you’re doing. Who will tell you to do the safe thing, the smart thing…that your dream [or belief] is just not possible [or right]. All you get hit with is negativity. People saying ‘no, no, no, no, no’ and telling you all the reasons why it’s not going to work out. And it’s so dangerous, because you have a little bit of doubt yourself. And if all you hear is no, and all you see is darkness around you, at some point, this is where a lot of people fall down. Because what happens is you start believing in other people and what their saying more than you believe in yourself [and what you believe]. And you end up quitting. You stopped believing in yourself and you started believing the doubters.” 

And to finish this post there is nothing better than these words from Cailee herself:

I encourage you to stop asking the questions of “why me” and “why now”.

Instead, remember those from the past and those around you who have changed these questions into “how can you use me because of this?”: people like Samson, Gideon, Sarah, Moses, Noah, and Jamie Smith.

Ask yourself “what do I believe” and remember the promises that God gives us.

Make your faith personal.

Believe in you---not the doubters.    

Do better. Be better.

And take your faith to the next level.

Why Me? vs. Why Me?: Giving Back

I have a clever friend who always like to define words to make a point in conversation.  It sounds silly, but it always brings a smile to my face.  I thought I would take a cue from him for this post.  

why

adverb \ˈhwī, ˈwī\

for what cause, reason or purpose

Why.  This word has become my most single hated word in the English language.  It is predominately used to ask a question:  Why is?  Why does, did, didn't?  Why have?  Why not?

Why me?

Why me?  It is nearly impossible to refrain from asking this question when tragedy strikes.  It is a natural reaction and it is damaging when asked too often.  Have I looked up to the sky or closed my eyes really tight in frustration or worry and asked 'why me?' in the last fourteen months?  

Absolutely.

Why did I have a stroke?  Why do I have a rare brain condition?  Why did it effect my vision?  Why did it happen at such a young age?  Why do I have permanent deficits?

Why did it happen to me?

It took me awhile to realize that the above question is completely selfish and awful to ask.  By asking it, I am inadvertently inferring that I wish it would have happened to someone else.  That is the last thing I would EVER wish for.  Plus, no matter how many times I ask the 'why' questions the answers to them never change.  They are fixed.    

So instead I have tried to ask 'why me?' in a different context.  As in, why have YOU chosen ME?  When I ask the question this way, my stroke, my condition, and my recovery become purposeful.  I find myself asking 'what can I do?' and 'how can I help?' much more often. 

My focus when I had my stroke was solely on surviving, recovering, and delivering Myah safely.  Once Myah arrived I became consumed with trying to decide whether I should have brain surgery.  In the midst of all of this, I was approached about the golf benefit, color run, scholarships, and the Do Better.  Be Better. Foundation.  I wasn't ready for all of that at that time.  Shortly after this initial meeting I found out that I was not a candidate for surgery.  I could finally move on.  Looking back, that meeting and those events sparked something in me.  I owe a huge thank you to Justin Urbanek, Kelli Snyder, my graduating class, Dunkerton Schools, and Cedar Falls Schools for lighting that fire.  

Over the last few months there have been more and more families that have been overcome with medical emergencies in our community.  I want to help.  And not only do I want to, but I feel like I am being called to.  Almost like maybe this was God's plan for me--like this is why I had my stroke.

I am finally ready.  Patrick and I are taking the leap and creating the Do Better.  Be Better.  Foundation instead of piggybacking with Cedar Falls Schools and Dunkerton Schools like we initially planned.  Our research on foundations thus far frightens us.  It is quite the undertaking that involves a lot of lingo that is way above my head.  We have some early plans in the works and I am extremely excited about this new road that my journey has produced. 

Maybe this foundation is what I have been aiming for.  Maybe it is my answer to the infamous 'why me?' question.  Maybe this is how I truly beat my stroke.  This is for sure how I shine my light and repay all of you for all the kindness you have shown me.  

This is how I can do better.  This is how I can be better. 

  
     

Team Addie and Team Elliot

I had a 'I used to' filled workout at NLXF last night and I left feeling incredibly defeated.  I was ready to throw a monumental pity party for myself.  And then I scrolled through my Facebook newsfeed and saw pictures of two young children that are battling cancer in the area.  Needless to say, the pictures and their stories screwed my head back on straight and refocused me on what truly matters in life.

I had a severe stroke.  I have a rare brain condition.  I am entitled to express anything I feel and those thoughts and emotions are justified.  BUT, does it really matter if I can sprint or roundhouse kick?  ABSOLUTELY NOT.

What matters is that I am alive--that we are all alive and given the chance everyday to experience the beauty of life.  Like the unbelievable sight of a sun dog on a cold day, the warmth of another persons touch, the joy from sharing laughter with friends, and the feeling of the unconditional love you have for your children and they have for you.

Those are the things that matter.  Those are the ways in which God shows me that He is with us all.

I, unlike these beautiful innocent children, lived 32 years of life before tragedy struck me.  I pray for them everyday.  I ask that you pray, or wish on stars, or cross all your fingers and toes--whatever you believe in--please do it for these children.  I also understand the power of positive support.  Please read their blogs, send them encouraging messages, deliver meals, buy support bands,....whatever you can do, whether big or small, will move mountains for these families.

Team Elliot Blog

Team Addie Blog

The bracelets that never leave my wrist.

   

Sun dog from Monday morning.  Photo credit: Mary Jo Vrba

 

I Used To, Can't Change It, and Just In Case

There are three moments in time: past, present, and future.  I have renamed these to: I used to, can't change it, and just in case.  Let me explain.

The most frustrating points in time are those where I am stuck in the 'I used to.'  When I am around my girls I have constant thoughts about how I used to be able to pick two of them up at a time, run with them, keep up with their energy, etc.  With Patrick I only have one thought that just plays on repeat in my head: I used to be the one he never needed to worry about.  At work I often think about how I used to play with the kids, play in faculty vs. student volleyball, set up equipment on my own, and just simply be GSD.  At NLXF, I look around the room and think, I used to lift that much, I used to be able to roundhouse kick, I used to be comfortable standing in the front of the room, etc.

I used to, I used to, I used to.

Then there are the beautiful moments where I realize, understand, and am content with the fact that I have no control over what happened or will happen.  My mind is not clouded by fear or worry and I clearly focus on what truly matters.  I live for the moment and allow myself to truly enjoy life.  I wish that were my every moment.

And then there is the painstaking state of the just in case.  I honestly cannot decide if this or the I used to is worse.  Everytime I pick up and carry one of the girls or give piggyback rides I immediately ask myself, "Should I be doing this?  Is this too much weight to pick up and hold?  I should probably put her down just in case."  If I feel 'off,' I contemplate whether I should tell those around me just in case. Every other minute of a workout at NLXF I tell myself to slow down or lift less just in case.  Should we really plan a vacation for a year from now just in case?  And the king of all the just in case....creating a brain surgery fund.  

Nearly every thought I have throughout the course of a day starts with 'I used to' and is followed by 'just in case.'

Where is all of this coming from?   It has always been there.  But it hit me hard yesterday at my neuroopthamology appointment in Iowa City.  My eye has now had a stable enough reading to pursue permanant options to remedy my double vision.  Great news, right?  Nope, not to me.  All I heard: "You are done improving from your stroke."  I then found out that my current prism strength would make my glasses as thick and as heavy as coke bottles if I had them ground in to my glasses lens.  So, needless to say, that option is out.  My second option is to keep my sticker prism I have now.  That option has been working fine, I just don't see the clearest for me to justify making it a permanant fix.  Finally, there is eye muscle surgery.  I would be put under as my surgeon would enter through the membrane of my eye and pull the muscles on the side of each eye to realign them and hopefully correct my double vision enough so that my brain could rewire the rest of the way and completely rid me of my double vision.  It would be an outpatient surgery and if all went well I would be able to go back to work in three days or less.   Better yet, it could be done as many times as needed just in case. It is an extremely common and routine surgery.  My surgeon completes thousands of them a year.

Sign me up, right?  No.  All I could think about as my doctor explained it was, what if my Cavernoma bursts from the stress of the anesthesia?  Which leads me to another crappy state of mind: being scared of EVERYTHING.

So I got home and ate my weight in Doritos and read through some messages to help lift my spirits.  One of my friends always responds to my worries by saying that she is sorry, but she's so glad I amhere.  She sent me this text before my eye appointment and as I re-read it last night I realized that she was right.  All that matters is that I am here.  I am alive.

BUT, if I truly have been living with this my entire life I shouldn't be scared.  I went 32 years without a bleed.  I played sports, had surgeries, flew on a plane, worked out hard....I lived without fear.  I have to try to do that now too.  

So, I woke up today and started fresh...again.  I spent the afternoon with some of my favorite people.

And when I got home I witnessed Myah and her first crawl.  Well, more like an army crawl, but either way she is beginning to move!

And after today I realize that it is ok to live in the I used to and just in case. Because sometimes they help me really appreciate the precious moments of life and the people that fill them.

ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY!

Do you know what today is?  No, it's not hump day.  ;)  Today is my one year anniversary!  I have lived one year stroke free.  It has been one year since my life changed forever.

I wrote the above paragraph on October 1, 2014.  I panicked as soon as I finished it because I thought I would jinx myself by jumping the gun on my anniversary date.  So I quickly logged out.

Today is October 10, 2014 and I find myself feeling the need to write.   I am not sure why.  I feel good, life is good, everything is good.  I was just drawn to my blog.  I read the first paragraph of this post and laughed at myself.  Really, Jamie??  Really.  You want your one year anniversary post to begin with a hump day joke?

The funny part is that I have been staring at my computer screen for twenty minutes since I reread that first paragraph.  When I ask myself what the last year has meant to me or how it has changed me, my mind instantly fills with a million memories, my heart aches as it relives the emotion, and my eyes well with tears.  I am not overcome with words, but rather feeling.  I am unsure how I can adequately describe this entire experience.  I should probably start by calling my stroke something other than an 'experience.'  Because it is not this 'thing I did once,'  It is my reality.  It is my story.

It is my life.

I have the popular Timehop app on my phone.  Everyday I receive a notification on the history of that day in the past years.  Lately I have obviously been notified about events that occurred very close to the date of my stroke.  These pictures and the words that accompany them make me smile because they are happy memories.  But they also break my heart and even make me tear up a little.  I look at these pictures and I see the time when life was easy; when I stressed about normal, irrelevant things.  A time when I looked normal and was healthy.

A time when I thought I was invincible.

Don't we all think that sometimes?  The infamous thought of, "That would never happen to me."  I did.  Especially since I was doing everything in my power to ensure I would have a healthy, long life.  I exercised, ate well, and got plenty of sleep.  But yet in one second everything changed and there is nothing I can do about it to change it back.

One of my greatest struggles to overcome this last year has been the loss of power and control over my own body.  The first few days I was in the ICU and stroke recovery floor I knew that my senses, functioning, and vision had been affected immediately.  However, I had no idea how bad until I had my first OT and PT session at the U of I toward the end of that first week.  In my first OT session, the occupational therapist asked me to tie the draw string on my pants.  For one minute I tried feverishly to tie that string and was sweating by the time I finished.  I looked down and just watched my hand
fumble.  My fingers couldn't even hold the string, let alone manipulate it.  I couldn't sense or feel the string in my hand.  I was trying to tell my hand and fingers how to move but I didn't even know what to tell it to do.  I had never had to instruct my hand on how to function; it always worked on its own.

What do I even tell it to do?

Right after my OT session came my first time with physical therapy.  We walked a total of maybe 30 feet and I was gassed by the time we finished.  I couldn't feel my left foot impact the ground and I could not hold myself upright on my own without falling to the left.  I have been very active and decently athletic my entire life and I couldn't even walk myself 10 feet to the bathroom without feeling like I had just ran a marathon.  

How am I going to do this?  What if I never get better?  How am I going to care for my kids and be the mom they need or the mom I want to be?  How am I going to be the wife and partner Patrick needs?  How is our family going to survive this?  How am I going to return to work?  Will I ever be able to exercise again?

How am I going to live like this forever?

Then came the first time I looked in the mirror.  My right eye was turned in towards my nose, wouldn't move laterally, and barely would blink on its own.  I had to wear a clip on my glasses to prevent double vision.  I was mortified.

How could Patrick even find me attractive anymore?  What will my girls think?  How am I ever going to be able to face anyone again?

But these things didn't even hold a candle to the debilitating fear I had about what my stroke had done to the innocent baby growing inside of me.

It is now October 15, 2014.  I broke down after I wrote the sentence above.  I started crying and couldn't stop and gave up on this post for a few days.  To this day I haven't really wrote about that part of my story yet.  I never will.  It is the part of my story that is only for Patrick, me, and our girls.  But today I scrolled through my Facebook news feed and noticed that it was Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day and it brought me back to my blog.  I have never miscarried or lost a child so I cannot relate and will never pretend to.  But, I do understand the agonizing fear of the waiting game of a high risk pregnancy. Nervously staring at the ceiling at every pregnancy check-up and ultrasound praying that growth is normal.  Panicking for a two hour car ride to the hospital because your scared you may not make it through delivery and never meet your child.  Waiting anxiously for every doctors checkup hoping that now that they are here, they stay healthy, develop normally, and live a happy life.

The game where I constantly pray that my stroke did not harm Myah.

And that was and always will be my greatest fear; that my stroke will ruin the lives of the ones I love.  I am mentally strong enough to handle the limitations I experience.  I can live with my double vision and crooked eyes, the stiffness in my left hand, the heaviness of my left foot, and the slightly impaired functioning that I still experience.  It is what it is, I can't change it, and I am just learning to make it my new normal.  BUT, if any of those things EVER affect my family or friends negatively, I am not sure I would be able to deal with it.  If I ever get to the point where I am disabled enough that I cannot pull my own weight or my deficits cause my daughters to be embarrassed of me......well, I would have become a whole new kind of mentally tough to be able to survive it.

It is now 3 a.m. on October 19, 2014 and I can't sleep.  Yesterday was one of the worst days I have had since my stroke.  I have begun to call my bad days, 'stroke days.'  I have not had the courage to write about a stroke day yet for many reasons.  And after yesterday I realize I am still not ready for that yet.  Yesterday was a stroke day on steroids and by the way the night is going I am afraid it might continue into tomorrow.  So in true fashion I am writing and praying that it will help me shut it down.

I have tried very hard to remain positive, uplifting, faithful, and strong throughout this last year.  I like to end each post on a positive note and with a fighting spirit undertone.  People have responded to that and, as a result, many blessings have been brought upon our family that I will be eternally grateful for.  But on the other side of that coin is the pressure I feel to constantly be 'on'; to never show the fear or worry that I occasionally do.  Sometimes I just need to have a bad day.  A day where I can admit how shitty it was to have a stroke, fight to get my life back, and live with a rare brain condition that could potentially cause it to happen all over again.  A time where I can feel it for a bit without seeing the pity in people's eyes or having someone immediately suggest I go to therapy.  I am allowed that after everything I have been through. 

Tomorrow begins the week that my life forever changed.  The Sunday prior to my stroke the Garbes side of the family celebrated Jaelyn and my mom's birthday.  That night is when Jaelyn started feeling ill which was what led me to believe that I had contracted the flu from her.  Low and behold we are celebrating their birthdays tomorrow which has me a bit freaked out.  Monday morning, at 9:35 a.m. will mark the one year anniversary of when I felt my head pop and about passed out as I walked through the weight room at school.  Parent teacher conferences are also this week.  Last year I didn't attend them because I was beginning to experience stroke symptoms.

Please.  Please God just get me through this week.

It is now October 20, 2014 and my 'stroke week' has started.  I made it past 9:35 a.m.  I was leading my students through a yoga routine as I watched 9:35 a.m. come and go.  I held my breath to fight back tears.  I returned to my office to find a text from Patrick at 9:36 a.m.  I am sure we were both watching the clock at the same time.  This is admittedly going to be a week full of tough memories for both of us.  Him and I will undoubtedly need to hold each other up to make it through it.

To say that the last place I want to be is at work this week in an understatement.  But life goes on.  Time passes, the seasons change, and we all age and change right along with them.  I can't be stuck in that week of October 2013 forever.  I need to keep moving forward and living my life.  I need to focus on the present rather than the past.  I can visit those memories, but I can't unpack and live there.

So I am going to do my best this week to celebrate my accomplishments, my health, and my family instead of drown myself in memories of the scariest week of my life.

It is now October 24, 2014. I have the day off of work today and I am began my 'strokeaversary' weekend with a full day at the spa.  This weekend Patrick and I will be heading to Clear Lake to spend some quality time together memorializing this last year.  Monday begins a new year.  A year that is full of happiness, blessings, and rejuvenation.

It is probably apparent at this point in this post that the last year has not been all butterflies and rainbows.  It is has been hard.  Harder than what most probably realize.  But, here's the thing: I am a fighter.  I have learned to take a challenge (if that's what a stroke is called) and kill it.  

Every step of the way I have had to start from the bottom up.  My physical limitations were stifling but my focus had to remain on everything I still had.  I had my memory, my cognitive functioning, my family, and my friends.  But, most of all, I was alive.  I could have died, but I didn't.  I didn't die.

I sure as hell wasn't going to act like I had.

I had a very clear picture in my head of what I still wanted my life....Patrick's life, my daughters' lives.....to be and I wasn't even close to ready to let it go yet.  I was 32--I had just started.

In the early stages my doctors always told me that I would experience the most improvement in the first three months and by the time a year hit any remaining deficits I had would be permanent.  I remember laying in my hospital bed dreaming of what my life would be like in one year.

How normal would I be?  

So began the battle of fighting back.  The struggle to remain faithful in God and believe my doctors when they would reassure me of Myah's health and the probability of my recovery.  The constant effort and mental strength needed to concentrate only on my improvements rather than everything that was still broken.  The desire to want to live even though my life had taken a different route than the one I had mapped out.

My will to LIVE was stronger than any challenge I faced.  I am happy to report that a year later I would classify myself at 95% normal functioning.  My largest deficit is still my double vision.  I do have stiffness, decreased sensation, and slight loss of fine motor functioning in my left hand.  My left leg is still a bit heavy and mechanical but doesn't prevent me from doing much of anything.  I am back to work full-time.  I am also the same wife and mother I always was and dreamed of being, if not a better one.  I am back at Next Level Extreme Fitness with no modifications other than I do not pull as much weight as I used to just to be safe.

Simply put:  MY STROKE HAS NOT STOPPED ME.  And if it is within my control, I WILL NEVER LET IT.  

I realize that I am incredibly lucky to be alive and be as well as I am.  My hemorrhage was very large and occurred in the most critical part of the brain.  I understand how damaging and life threatening another stroke and brainstem surgery could be.  I would like to believe that my outstanding health and mental strength carried me throughout my recovery, but I also recognize that there was a lot of luck and God's mercy involved.  I have no idea why I was spared or why I was blessed with an unimaginable recovery.  I do know that I am not going to spend the time I have been given asking why. 

I want to spend my time doing better and being better everyday.  I want to see the beauty and positivity in every situation.  I want to learn and grow as an individual, wife, mother, daughter, sister, and friend.  I am going to appreciate every moment I have and every person that fills them.

If you have followed my story and have been reading my blog, you know of all the blessings that have been bestowed upon my family and I.  This post would go on for many more paragraphs if I mentioned them all, so I will refrain.  My writing has been a tremendous form of therapy for me and I have learned much about myself with every word I have scribbled.  You may have even learned a few lessons right along with me as you have read them.   

I do not know where I will stand medically a year from now.  What I do know is that I have an amazing support system; an amazing army.  If you would have told me that my life would look the way it does now a year ago after having a severe stroke, I would have laughed at you.  Life has taken such an inconceivable turn.  A turn that is better in many ways than it is worse because of all of YOU.  You have all made this year better than what I could have ever imagined it to be.  I am forever grateful for your support, encouragement, and love.  I will never be able to repay you all for everything you have done for my family and I.  What I can do is show you through my actions how much you have all inspired me to change and grow.

I can DO BETTER.  I can BE BETTER.

Cheers to ONE YEAR beating my stroke.



Some of our family photos taken October 2014 by my brother, Nathan!