Ron McDonagh

My name is Ron, I am 54 and its one year to the day that I got out of bed at 8.20 in the morning, nothing unusual I thought and my mind was busy with the usual things that I would be doing that day - it was Saturday 4th October 2003, starting with getting dressed to go downstairs and, in this order, turn off the alarm, unlock the front door, enter the kitchen and let the dog out into the garden. That's my schedule sorted out in my mind and what I do every day, followed by putting the kettle on and preparing my wife's breakfast. While the kettle's boiling I'll let the dog in and get my bike out and cycle like mad to the newsagents and buy my paper and be back to complete the breakfast.

That should set the scenario! … At 8.21 things didn't go like that though! Back to the bedroom, I remember putting my trousers on and fastening my belt, it was at the part where you use your fingers to guide the bit on the belt that goes in the hole and makes you feel your trousers are secured, only mine didn't and I knew there was something up. I, for some daft reason, didn't want to wake my wife who had had a rough night's sleep (she suffers badly with her stomach) so I got out of the bedroom as quickly as I could as I felt that I was going to fall down and I wanted to do it in private(?).

I made it as far as the adjacent bedroom just a couple of yards along the landing, this is where my daughter would normally be sleeping at this time but as luck would have it she was away for the night and was in hospital having her nose done and was due home later that day, I was going to collect her! Anyway as I entered her bedroom I moved towards her bed to sit on it but didn't make it, at that time I lost any strength that I had in my body and collapsed onto the floor, I could not move anything, nothing! I lay there, awake and aware of what was going on but didn't know what had happened to me. After a while - maybe half an hour, I think, but cannot be sure, time didn't seem important to me anymore, I felt that I could move the upper part of my body but not enough to move about. I couldn't speak so I was left on the floor drifting in and out of consciousness probably for about 40 minutes.

My wife could hear my breathing, both bedroom doors were open and I was only a few yards away, she came into the room and found me on the floor and quickly assessed the situation, called an ambulance and told the paramedics who arrived soon after that she thought I had had a stroke! I could hear was what was going on but could still not speak, they asked me my name, the usual things they do to gauge my reaction, I suspect, but they didn't get anything from me - I could do nothing!

Christine, my wife, is conversant with strokes as she works for the NHS in Stockport and she was pretty sure that's what it was, it was during the movement i.e. picking me up and transporting me down the stairs that I lost consciousness and remember nothing for some hours, but just before I lost awareness I felt very comfortable and in no pain whatsoever and extremely peaceful. Feeling that I was about to die, I had no qualms with that at all.

I awoke to find myself in the intensive care ward of Wythenshawe hospital, with my wife and family around me. I thought it was a few minutes after leaving home but it was late on Saturday evening. I really don't remember what went on for the next few days but my family thought that I would not be able to speak again and my eldest daughter brought me photos attached to a board with all the things that I should know about, in particular, pictures of my immediate family, my wife, children and grandchildren and even the dog in an effort to jog my memory and hopefully get me to speak again. I could see this was bothering them, much more than me because I was oblivious to my circumstances, I did not know if I could walk or talk and felt very weak and didn't seem to be to bothered by it all!

A few days later I was beginning to come round and was more alert, lying in my bed in the very early morning, I at last became aware of where I was and what was and wasn't working - it was my right side, leg, arm and mouth all seemed to have been affected by what I was later to be told was a stroke. I discovered that I could not walk or talk but by now I could make noises that resembled words and I was to work on that and quickly began to talk, not too well but it was good enough for me. Similarly I could not walk at all but over the next few days my right side got stronger and I was soon hobbling about with a stick and soon dispensed with that, so I was on my own with no stick or frame and felt that I was making a good recovery. With the guidance of the physio I walked every day down the ward, a dozen times at least, and my arm was getting better all the time, it seemed a long time but it was all done inside 10 days. A lot of things happened to change my life forever in that 10 days, I am eternally grateful to all the people who helped me get better and to those who came to see me in hospital when I needed them most. I will never forget them.

A few days before I was discharged, I was visited by a doctor who asked me to take part in a procedure to discover if the cause of my stroke was caused by a hole in my heart which was a possibility for someone with my profile - apparently young (53 is young for a stroke), pretty healthy, don't smoke, not overweight, all the vital signs were good - not least that I ride a bike every day, so I opted for it !

I went back for an outpatients appointment some weeks later to discover I did indeed have a hole in my heart better known as PFO. It is a hole in the heart that is there from the time we are in the mother's womb and in most cases, but not all cases, heals itself up, if you are one of the latter it leaves itself open to clots to go through it and head for the brain! So in June of this year I underwent a procedure to correct it and had a stent fitted, which was painless. I was in hospital overnight, don't know its in there and have had no problems since!

Now its 12 months to the day since all this happened, I can't say that I am the same man as I'm not. I cannot play golf anymore with my mates which I loved, though I have not given up completely, but it's looking likely. I can't write very well when I could write pretty well, I still am not happy with the way I speak, I stutter and say the wrong things like "I am not driving down road, they've installed bollocks in the road", I suffer with stomach pains from the pills I take to keep me under control, but, having said all that and it might sound like I'm griping but honestly I'm not, I'm ever so happy to be here telling you all about myself and more importantly being able to see and speak to my wife and children and of course my lovely grandchildren and again express my thanks to everyone who has helped me in whatever way they may done so.

I hope this gives comfort to someone else !

Sincerest Regards

Ron McDonagh

Thanks to Ron for sending in his profile. Anyone else who would like to share their story can send it along with a photograph (if you're not shy!)

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