The Long Road Ahead

The end of this month marks a bittersweet reminder of health. The stroke association contacted me to ask me to participate in their campaign to raise awareness of health conditions that could lead to stroke, specifically high blood pressure. I will link their campaign below, but before that, I just realised I had never talked about my health before my stroke, so this will serve as a record of that.

An Unwanted diagnosis

I had a stroke in Dec 2017 at the age of 22, resulting in left-sided weakness, and have been in recovery since, but 18 months before that, I was diagnosed with high blood pressure in 2016 at age 20. After attending a routine check-up with my doctor, they were shocked to find it was twice the standard limit and not only that after a 30 minute break in their waiting room it was not lowering i remember sitting there and this tenseness was in my kneck i just wanted to go home and not be here trying to convince myself that all of this would go away but little did i know that i was going to get the opposite of that i went beck into her room and to my surprise not only did my blood pressure not go down but it went up a few points that is what happens when you give a perpetual worrier terrible news they will ruminate on it and dread it and no matter how much i want to forget that something is happening that shouldnt be it is there like a sword held above my head on a thread just waiting for me 30 minutes later and i went back in to the doctors room and she once again check my blood pressure and surprise surprise it had barely moved i was asked how i felt i just remember saying i was “fine” but that clearly wasnt the case.

She asked me to go home, pack a bag, and head straight to the hospital. I was living with a family member at the time. I remember how shitty it felt to tell him about it and to go over to the hospital on my own, given everything I just went through. I can rationalise it because I had another family member who needed someone to look after him, but it would’ve been nice not to deal with it alone.

Hospital Walls Closing In

So, I went to the hospital. I got out of the taxi and looked up to see this multi-story building spanning a football pitch, and the world suddenly lost a lot of its colour. I just wanted to get in here, get sorted, and go home, but that was not the case for me. I went into the hospital, and at the time, you could walk to reception and be sent wherever you needed to go. There is no need to go home and phone a number to get seen. I just walked to the ward where I needed to go; of course, I thought it would be in for a couple of hours and then out again, but little did I know just what I had to go through,

I spent the next two weeks going through tests, and all more or less came back with the same result. I was within normal ranges on most of them outside of blood pressure, which came down gradually as they figured out my dosage for the blood pressure medication I was now going to be on for the foreseeable future until I made some changes to my lifestyle; now, what are those changes? I would love to tell you, but outside of weight management and therapy/ counselling/ meditation, there wasn’t anything that I could do or help I could get. I wasn’t given a choice to say what help I needed to deal with the high-stress situation that I was in at the time.

Setting the Stage

To give a brief bit of context so that I’m not just waffling about it, I had just left school after being forced out due to my attendance dropping. My work went downhill due to an untenable living situation where I had to look after my uncle, who had a severe learning disability, and myself, who was thrust into things with little prospects outside of trying to care for him. Having his original carer trying to stop me. Getting the support I needed for close to a year drained what little resources I had at the time, and I was able to get sorted eventually. 

Throughout this whole time, I had to find out how to deal with life, trying to apply for jobs when I had a partial degree! Regarding working hours, I had very little flexibility in my local area or outside because going further than that was not an option then. Given how the last trip went, I couldn’t go to college, so I just struggled. I wasn’t given the help I now know was available to me. I was angry, bitter and stressed to the limit and, sadly, would continue to wade through that mire for another 18 months till I had a stroke.

As is often the case, a doctor can help treat the effects of whatever you’re dealing with, but it is up to you to figure out the solution and put the work in; now, im all for that, but at the time I wish that they would have been there for me to give some idea where to start instead of hallow suggestions like weight management and the suggestion of therapy of which I would have to find my own which as those who have been through is hard to find the right person who can help you or that you can feel open to exploring your situation with.

Again, I believe that if I had support back then, I would never have had a stroke this early in my life, if at all.

This Stroke prevention week, I urge you to prioritise your health. Get regular check-ups, manage your blood pressure, and seek support for stress and anxiety. Please don’t wait for a wake-up call like I did.

And to my fellow stroke survivors, remember that recovery is a journey, not a destination. Celebrate the small victories, embrace the challenges, and never give up on pursuing a fulfilling life.