Sue Monks

I had my stroke on Saturday 12th March 2005. My mother was in hospital and near to death and during the evening of 11th March I received a telephone call from my brother to tell me that she would die that weekend, it wasn't possible to see her as I live in Jersey and she lived in Southampton. That night I was vomiting most of the night, I put it down to nerves and the upsetting news. I decided to take a drug to stop the vomiting and thought it was in my car which was parked outside. Putting on my dressing gown was very difficult, I just couldn't seem to manage it, I also found it almost impossible to change the toilet roll earlier. I managed to get downstairs without any problem, went out to my car only to find that my pills were not there. Back upstairs, then I found them in my bedroom. I went into the bathroom to get some water and looked in the mirror and found my mouth drooping on the left side. My thoughts were "Crikey, I look as if I have had a stroke, I must have been sleeping awkwardly" - but then I hadn't actually been asleep.

I didn't actually think that I had had a stroke, just that I LOOKED as if I had had one. At 1pm that day I had a hair appointment and to be honest I really didn't feel like going so to be fair to the hairdresser I decided to telephone to cancel the appointment giving them time to give it to another. As a divorced woman living alone I hadn't actually tried to speak. Looking up the telephone number was a hassle, as was using the telephone. Then I tried to speak! With hindsight it was quite amusing, I sounded as if I had been 'at the bottle', it was very difficult to make myself understood but I managed to get the message across. Then I knew, yes I had had a stroke.

My first thought was to get some things together to go into hospital, I had a small case on my bedroom floor and fell twice trying to put it on the bed. Then I grabbed some nighties and some pants then gave up.

Living alone and being a diabetic, and overweight, I had sometimes thought about what I ought to do if I had a heart attack or stroke. I would need to get the house unlocked then call for help. Since walking wasn't too much of a problem I unlocked my backdoor then looked for the telephone number of a friend who lived around the corner, she is a nurse. I telephoned and spoke to her husband, said I was in trouble and was his wife in. When she came to the phone I told her that I had had a stroke and could she come, that I had unlocked the back door.

The evening before I had filled a black sack with rubbish, newspapers and the like, and the cats had attacked it and there was mess everywhere. I asked her to help me clear it up! Being efficient she telephoned my GP first, then went to pack my case (remembering toiletries!), then picked up the mess for me. My own GP was on call that day so it was good to see a familiar face. He entered the room and asked me what the problem was, I said "I have had a right-sided stroke which has affected my left side". He said "I think you're right". He then said that as I lived alone he wanted me to be admitted to hospital even though the stroke appeared to be minor, that I could have another and next time might not be able to get to the phone.

I was taken into hospital and admitted to the Emergency Assessment Unit then moved to a women's medical ward. Next morning I was visited by the consultant on call that weekend, a cardiologist. I was given a CAT scan plus various blood tests and so forth. Apparently I had a 'bad night' according to other patients, I still don't know what that meant (I must ask someone some time), I do remember waking in the morning and finding a fan blowing on me. As I subscribe to BUPA I had asked to be transferred to a private ward but there was no space for a few days so I was shunted about until a bed was free for me. Oh, my mother died the day after I had my stroke.

My private bed became free and I was moved into a room which was to be home for a while. On the Wednesday morning I was shaking very badly, called a nurse who sent for the consultant. Within minutes men arrived in my room with a machine. I was given an 'echo' and then the consultant returned to tell me that they now knew what was wrong with me - huh, I thought that I had had a stroke. Yes, I did have a stroke but not caused by a clot nor a bleed. What I had was endocarditis, an infection of the heart and I had vegetation (sounds awful) growing in my heart valves, it was some of this which had broken away an caused the stroke. I was in fact very ill and required weeks of intravenous antibiotics.

During the next few weeks I was given physiotherapy to strengthen my left arm, to improve the left hand. One of the exercises was to play with a child's toy, one of those with wooden shapes on a stand with pegs which went through holes. Circles with one hole, oblongs with two holes, triangles with three holes and finally squares with four holes. I had to take these shapes off then put them back. It was SO frustrating, I now know why two year olds have tantrums, I nearly threw it across the room! After several days I could manage it without too much bad language. I had a dumbbell to lift and a latex strip to pull. Walking still was ok, I was given a stick as I listed to the side a bit and had a tendency to walk into the doorframe. I was also provided with a set of pedals so that I could sit on the bed exercising my leg muscles. All in all I was pleased with the level of physiotherapy offered to me. Eating was fun, trying to manage a knife and fork!

Each day the consultant came to visit me then three weeks after my stroke he told me that my heart condition had deteriorated and he felt that I should be taken by air ambulance to England, to St George's Hospital in London. I lost my stick, left it in the ambulance (it was great fun having the blue lights flashing on the way to the airport). The ambulance took me to the hanger where I was transferred to a small 'plane then the ambulance followed us, blue lights flashing, until the 'plane took off. The 'plane landed at Biggin Hill and an ambulance met us and took us to London, us being myself and a nurse from the ICU.

Once in St George's I became very much a cardiac patient, my stroke forgotten, physiotherapy stopped and most of all no assistance with showering and dressing. I was on my own to cope or not to cope, I coped after a fashion.

After almost six weeks in hospital I was discharged, next day I went to my GP who hadn't a clue what had happened to me, he couldn't understand why there was no discharge letter - no one told him how ill I had been. I asked for, and was given a medical to assess my ability to drive once more - yeah!

My problems were not over, the infection damaged two heart valves which meant having open-heart surgery. Four days after my discharge from that hospital I was admitted to another with complete heart block. The following day my daughter got married. So there you have it, I missed my mother's funeral and my daughter's wedding.

Almost six months after my stroke I am still 'on the sick' but hoping to go back to work early in October. I still have difficulty with finer movements of my left hand, typing is not easy as I keep missing the letter 'a' and end up doubling up with some other letters. I type for a living! Do I tell my boss that I have a problem with my left hand or do I just carry on? I don't know, I will have to play it by ear, taking extra care. It is so frustrating as I was a very accurate typist, and quick.

I consider myself lucky to have had my stroke, without it I could so easily have died. Apparently I need to take wafarin for life as I am at risk of blood clots which of course could cause further strokes.

Thanks to Sue for sending in her 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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