Speak No Evil

By Erin and JJ Robertson

Emotions and Stroke

Survivor JJ Speaks...

One thing I’ve learned this year is that there’s no right way to feel about having a stroke. Everyone is different. Even Erin and I have had different reactions to my stroke.

Depression, as you all know, is a very real thing. People used to think it was a fake illness and people with depression were trying to scam others. Fortunately, now most people know the truth. You don't have to hide it, and doctors will help you try to regulate it.

I have had depression since I was a child. Doctors tried to help me with it. I’ve taken medications and participated in therapy sessions, but nothing seemed help. So I just dealt with it as best I could. And then, surprisingly, I had a stroke.

It's interesting to me, now, that I never thought about what I was feeling emotionally when I had my stroke. I didn't think about it when I was in rehabilitation, or even when I was home and dealing with my speech.

Now, I think about it. Before my stroke, depression was always there. Now, it isn't. I've talked to my neurologist and other doctors about it. My depression seems to have had a biological cause. There's a part of my brain that used to keep the depression going. When I had the stroke, part of the brain death that occurred was in this area. Now that part is dead. I don't have to worry about it anymore.

Instead of focusing my attention on just making it through the day like I had to do when I was dealing with depression, I can focus on getting better. My speech is still not like it used to be. I can’t write like I used to. So I keep working with my speech. Soon, I'll be even better than when I had my stroke.

My stroke was a God send, I think. It helped me learn about what was going to kill me. The day after my stroke, I was found to be in severe congestive heart failure. I would have had a heart attack very soon after I had the stroke. I would have died. I don't mind that I have problems with speech. I'm going to be back to the way I used to speak and write. Erin would have had to raise our children alone. My kids wouldn't have had their father.

So, I'm glad I had a stroke. I'm not depressed, and I'm not dead. And I can write for everyone.

Caregiver Erin Speaks...

Obviously the emotional journey stroke survivors and their caregivers navigate is different for everyone. I was not as fortunate as J.J. In the aftermath of his stroke, my emotions have been all over the map. When I arrived in the emergency room and found that J.J. was alive and stable, I remember feeling an intense gratitude followed quickly by a fear that was just as intense.

I am not ashamed to admit that when I cried while I was taking a shower the next morning, I wasn’t crying for J.J. I knew he would be okay and that I would move heaven and earth to make sure that he received the best care available. Instead, I cried for myself and how my life was going to change. I wondered if I’d ever have a normal day again.

Over the next two weeks, I channeled my nervous energy into action by tackling some of those nagging home repair projects that had been hanging over our heads. The day after the stroke, I bought a new garbage disposal and arranged to have it installed. I had the water heater serviced. I even stayed up one whole night ripping up all of the carpet in one bathroom and measuring it for tile. At the time, these projects seemed to be of the utmost importance. Now I see them for what they were—a coping mechanism.

As the months wore on and my initial adrenaline rush wore off, depression set in. I was exhausted. I resented my friends whose biggest challenges with their husbands were that they didn’t always remember to put their socks in the laundry hamper. I found that I told almost everyone with whom I interacted, even casual acquaintances, about J.J.’s stroke. It seemed like a huge affront that the world could continue on as if nothing was out of the ordinary when our lives had been turned upside down.

Then an odd thing happened.

I began having occasional good days, days on which I didn’t even really think about the stroke. Days on which I felt like myself again, days when I could hold my husband’s hand and giggle with him at silly things and feel like his wife and not his caregiver. Then these days started coming closer together. They became the norm instead of the exception.

J.J. and I are active with a support group at the rehabilitation hospital where J.J. received his therapy. Last week, there was a new stroke survivor in the group. She sobbed through most of our discussion as the friends who had accompanied her sat on either side of her, patting her hands. “When does it get easier?” she cried. “Does life ever feel normal again?”

All I could do was reassure her that it will, but only if she’s willing to accept that she is forever changed. Life is different, but not over. The day will come when her stroke is not the first thing she thinks of every morning and the last thing she thinks of every night. Even if it seems impossible to believe right now.