Redefining Disability Challenge-Post 6


Hello blogger friends and welcome. Here is another post for the redfng-disblty2Redefining Disability Challenge started by Rose B. Fischer. If you click on the image to the left, you can see exactly what it’s all about and feel free to join. Answer as many of the 52 questions as you like, or the ones that pertain to you. There is no time limit. Answer them in one post, one a day, a week, or whatever fits your needs.

I’m going to spread the questions out over the remainder of the year since a lot of the questions pertain to me already. For today’s post I’m going to answer question(s) 10.

  1. Does disability affect you in other ways? If so, how? I know I’ve mentioned most of the ways the brain hemorrhage and subsequent stroke affect me in some of my previous posts. Of course they affect me in ways big and small. Let me give you a few examples, some big (for me at least), and some small.

A couple of months ago I had an appointment with my neurologist and this was before I met the friend and neighbor who helps me now. As you probably know, I still don’t drive yet, so I called ahead for a taxi. Since I live in the sticks, it sometimes takes anywhere from 40 minutes to 2 hours for a cab to be available. I got lucky that day; the cab came early and I arrived over an hour before my appointment . . .

It’s raining, but I don’t feel like sitting in the waiting room for an hour and change. Across the street is the hospital and catty-corner to that by the intersection is a gas station with a convenience store. I forget what’s on the other corner. Anyway, I decide to hit the store for a cup of coffee and a buttered roll. I walk to the corner and cross the street when the light changes green. I have to cross again to get to the convenience store, but the light won’t change in my favor; at least I don’t think it does. It has the delayed green for left turn signal… I grow impatient after about 10 minutes of standing in the rain and run (gimp) across the two-way street as soon as I can. Not exactly the smartest thing to do, but at least a turning driver is kind enough to wave me ahead.

I head in to the store to the coffee station; I make a cup, and grab a buttered roll from a display. I pay. I step outside and it’s still raining, but I look around and realize I’m completely alone.

Photo courtesy of

Come on brain, work!

It’s only been a few days since the only person I really knew in PA, my ex, hauled it back to NJ and I’m here fending for myself. I’m okay with that, but the reality of that freedom finally hits me. I waited a long time for this. It’s overwhelming. I smile, but then I frown. Something doesn’t click.

I look around again and nothing seems familiar; confusion sets in. I don’t know where I am right now. I step off to the side, away from the door. I put my bag on the window ledge with shaky hands. I close my eyes and try to breathe, and think. The last thing I want is to have a panic attack in a strange place. In my mind I know I’m not crazy and something tells me I SHOULD know where I am. BREATHE, Eva. I’m leaning against the building now, trying to slow my racing heart.

After about two minutes, I’m calm enough to open my eyes. The rain is lighter; I look up and see the sign for the gas station. I look across the street. It’s a hospital, my hospital. I breathe a sigh of relief. I got this. I have an appointment today with Dr. H, my neurologist. I know exactly where I am. I pick up my bag, hold my head up, and make my way back to the doctor’s office. Though these occurrences are few and far between, they happen; they scare the crap out of me. These are a couple of the big things.

The first month was extremely difficult for me knowing that the only people I had in PA were my doctors and 911. God blessed me when he put a couple of new friends in my life. I’ve been able to come out of my shell more and my mind is clearer.

Sometimes the small things get to me sometimes too, but not as much. It would be nice to be able to get on a step stool again to change my curtains or reach a shelf without having to worry about doing a face plant to the floor. Or cleaning my shower without worrying about muscle spasms, dizziness, pain, or the inability to bend. I’d also love to hop in my car and just drive. Anywhere. (Oh, wait… That goes under BIG things.)

There’s a lot more I can include, but I’m not going to make this an overwhelming post. I just wanted to give you an idea of some of the things I deal with.

Thanks for taking the time to read, and if anyone has any questions or needs an ear, leave a comment or drop me an email. Until next post, have a great day.




About My Miracle Life

I'm a writer, blogger, avid reader, book reviewer, sub-arachnoid hemorrhage and stroke survivor, moving forward in my recovery and trying to advocate for stroke and brain hemorrhage awareness and prevention. I'm also slowly working towards independence, driving, my first novel, a memoir and a series of short stories. I've been lucky to have a very small network of close friends to guide me; I've been even luckier to have found an online 'family' of sorts to help me through the rough times.
This entry was posted in Redefining Disability Challenge and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to Redefining Disability Challenge-Post 6

  1. Jo Murphey says:

    Panic attacks are never fun, but you know how to deal with them. What’s scary is that I do drive and sometimes I forget my destination. I’ll pull over until I remember.

    Liked by 1 person

    • That’s one thing I’m afraid of too, Jo. Although I want to be cleared to drive again, I know I’m going to need a lot of practice time behind the wheel. It’ll be like taking CEVO II again! LOL Thanks for the visit.


  2. Eva, thank you for sharing this with us. I can only imagine how difficult it must be to lose concentration like that and not be able to work out where you are or what for, for a period of time. It must be so frightening. I’m glad you were able to work it out quickly, that there was that landmark of the hospital there for you to latch on to. I hope the appointment went well.

    I don’t know anything about what is happening for your brain, but have you tried meditation techniques for the anxiety that comes when you get lost like that? People keep recommending it to me because of my stress levels with my loss of life abilities and I tried to listen to a few sessions on a free phone app last month and I did find them unusually calming, so I’m going to look into it further.

    I’ve also popped over to Rose’s page and asked if I’m too late to join in with the questions. I’m thinking of doing these on my blog. Raise some awareness. – I think I need more days in the week though. I’m already posting 7 days a week!

    I hope you’re well. I will reply to your email today. Big hugs xx


    • Of course it’s not too late for the Challenge! I started way late last year too. I’m going to spread my questions out over the year. There’s no time limit or anything. I hope you do the challenge. I’d really like to learn more about what you go through also (besides what I’ve read up on). Love ya!


  3. Dixie says:

    Panic attacks kept me from driving some 10-11 years. It was hard, and I lacked understanding. Once I knew the diagnosis/prognosis – the issue, along with others, became smaller in my mind. I drive but have boundaries – I can finally drive about 40 minutes in one direction without stopping to rest. It was great to make it to a family Christmas – after four years – without asking for a ride to get there, and back home!

    Every step is a step! (smile)


  4. You’re a brave lady! My grandmother started to have memory loss and she faced it head on, like you are. Instead of trying to pretend it wasn’t affecting her, she started telling people right away that she was having trouble. She once told me that she couldn’t be too senile if she had the capacity to know she was forgetting, right? She managed lots of tricks, made herself notes and kept a calendar and journal that would make a historian look sloppy.


  5. Oh Eva…that certainly sounds scary! God Bless you for remaining calm in that situation…I don’t know how calm I would have been. I think I’d probably have to have someone on speed dial, just in case of anything like that. Or maybe carry a smart phone with all your appointments in it! The different challenges we all face are what makes us strong and brave…you are a superhero!


Comments are closed.