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English to Serbian: LIFE AFTER STROKE General field: Art/Literary
Source text - English LIFE AFTER STROKE
A JOURNEY TO RECLAIM JOY, FIND STRENGTH HINDERED BY PREJUDICE
June 2014
BY JERRY HUFFMAN
“You’re going to do what?”
The look of pure shock on my friend’s face was so vivid you would have thought I’d confided a plan to rob a bank. Instead, I was making the decision to go public with the fact I’d survived a stroke.
“But if you talk about it people are going to know what happened to you!”
To tell you the truth, that was fine by me. Three years ago a small blood clot came loose and careened through my vascular system like a pinball and lodged in my brain stem. I didn’t know it at the time but I was having a stroke.
55-year old desk jockeys, in the midst of a profound health crisis, usually grab their chest, cuss a little bit, and fall over. I didn’t feel a thing. No pain. No warning signs. One moment I’m hanging out with our dog and the next I’m flirting with the permanent fade to black. I thought I had the flu. Luckily for me, my much smarter wife, Carol, knew better.
The Stroke, and the Recovery
Thankfully, the clot lodged in my brain stem instead of going into my brain. The stroke left me clutching a walker but with lots of support from Carol, a fair amount of motivation, and a great physical therapist, I dumped the walker and then the cane within a few months. If the clot had made it to my brain, the effects would have likely been much more devastating if not fatal.
In addition to learning how to walk again, I also mastered giving myself blood thinner shots, and learned to cope with bouts of uncontrolled crying. A common challenge for most stroke survivors is overcoming the occasionally comical ability to weep openly–often for only a few seconds–for no apparent reason. The tears were especially frustrating because I could weep as easily for an inspiring sunrise as I would when if I burned the toast.
Like a lot of stroke survivors I count a psychologist as part of my medical team. There are a stunning amount of emotions to work through and bless the lovely one (a.k.a. Carol) for insisting I, and sometimes we, go.
My biggest memory of the months after the stroke was craving a sense of normalcy. I was struggling with some physical issues (like tiring easily, and a haunting sense that the words, “STROKE GUY” were tattooed on my forehead.) I wanted my old life back and I wasn’t ready to accept that the life I knew was gone.
Back to the Cold, Cruel World
I kidded myself into thinking that once I got to “feeling better” everything would be okay. The word “wrong” doesn’t do justice to the depths of my wrong-ness on that bit of delusional thinking. The fact that there are still people who treat a stroke like a character flaw instead of a health issue floored me.
My former employer insisted I produce an affidavit from my neurologist that I wasn’t a “threat” to my colleagues before I could come return to work. I worked my butt off to get back in 100 days and their reaction was I needed a note from my doctor that I would play nice with others? Really?
When I returned to work, if anything, my work became better as I found a sense of professional and personal focus in my post-stroke life that I never had before. Part of it is pure gratitude for the fact I’m not dead. The rest is the thrill of getting a second chance to be a better person.
But I had people talk to me like I’d forgotten how to speak English, and others who went out of their way to be cruel. One day I heard my supervisor telling others I was probably brain damaged. Incorrect. And an evil thing to say. Sure, I was walking half a step slower in those first months, but my speech was clear, the neurons were firing, and I just wanted to work. And yes, my “brain” is just fine.
Of course, there were also the friends and family who stood tall to celebrate our victories and keep us sane on the bad days, but I will never understand the undercurrent from others who acted like I was contagious–and by extension–Carol. We both lost friends once word got out about the stroke.
Translation - Serbian ŽIVOT NAKON MOŽDANOG UDARA
PUT KA POVRATKU ŽIVOTNE RADOSTI I PRONALAŽENJU SNAGE PROŽET PREDRASUDAMA
Jun 2014.
DŽERI HAFMAN
"Šta ćeš da uradiš?" Izraz potpunog šoka na licu mog prijatelja bio je toliko živopisan, da biste pomislili kako sam mu se poverio da imam plan da opljačkam banku. Umesto toga, u meni je sazrevala odluka da objavim činjenicu da sam preživeo moždani udar. "Ali, ako budeš pričao o tome, ljudi će znati šta ti se dogodilo!" Da vam pravo kažem, meni je to bilo sasvim u redu. Pre tri godine, mali ugrušak krvi se otkačio i prostrujao mojim vaskularnim sistemom poput loptice flipera i zaustavio se u kičmenoj moždini. U tom trenutku nisam ni bio svestan da mi se upravo događa moždani udar. Usred duboke zdravstvene krize, 55-togodišnji kancelarijski pacovi se obično uhvate za grudni koš, promrmljaju psovku i padnu. Ja nisam osećao ništa. Nije bilo bola. Nije bilo nikakvih znakova za uzbunu. U jednom trenutku sam se igrao sa našim psom, a u sledećem sam očijukao sa smrću. Mislio sam da sam se razboleo od gripa. Na moju sreću, moja supruga Kerol, koja je mnogo pametnija od mene, znala je o čemu se radi.
Moždani udar i oporavak
Srećom, ugrušak se zaglavio u kičmenoj moždini i nije otišao direktno u mozak. Moždani udar je učinio da se grčevito držim za hodalicu, ali uz veliku podršku Kerol, priličnu dozu motivacije i odličnog fizioterapeuta, u roku od nekoliko meseci sam odbacio hodalicu, a ubrzo potom i štap. Da je ugrušak bio stigao do mozga, posledice bi bile mnogo teže, ako ne i smrtonosne.
Pored toga što sam naučio kako da opet hodam, ovladao sam i time kako da sebi dajem injekcije razredjivača krvi, kao i kako da se nosim sa naletima nekontrolisanog plakanja. Uobičajeni izazov za najveći broj onih koji su preziveli moždani udar jeste prevazilaženje, povremeno komične sposobnosti, da se otvoreno, često samo na par sekundi, zaplače bez ikakvog vidljivog razloga. Suze su tada posebno frustrirajuće, pošto sam sa podjednakom lakoćom mogao da zaplačem nad predivnim izlaskom sunca, kao i zbog pregorelog tosta.
Kao i mnogi ljudi koji su preživeli moždani udar, psihologa smatram članom svog medicinskog tima. Prisutna je zapanjujuća količina emocija sa kojima treba da se izađe na kraj i zahvaljujući insistiranju moje voljene Kerol, ja, a ponekad mi, smo u tome uspevali.
Najizraženije sećanje koje imam na mesece nakon moždanog udara, jeste ta ogromna želja da se osećam normalno. Borio sam se sa nekim fizičkim problemima (kao što je vrlo brzo zamaranje i proganjajući osećaj da mi na čelu piše "Ovo je onaj što je preživeo šlog"). Želeo sam da opet živim životom kao nekada i nisam bio spreman da prihvatim da nikada više neću moći tako da živim.
Povratak u hladni, surovi svet
Zavaravao sam se misleći da će, jednom kada se budem "bolje osećao", sve biti u redu. Reč "pogrešno", ne opisuje u dovoljnoj meri dubinu zablude zbog takvog mog načina razmišljanja. Činjenica da i dalje postoje ljudi koji moždani udar smatraju karakternom manom, umesto zdravstvenim problemom, sasvim me je dotukla.
Moj bivši poslodavac je insistirao na tome da mu, pre nego što budem mogao da se vratim na posao, donesem pisanu izjavu svog neurologa da nisam „opasan“ po svoje kolege. Ogulio sam se trudeći se da se u roku od 100 dana vratim na posao, a njihova reakcija je bila da mi je potrebna potvrda od doktora da umem lepo da se ophodim prema drugima. Zar je moguće?
Kada sam se vratio na posao, ako ništa drugo, počeo sam bolje da radim, jer sam posle pretrpljenog moždanog udara pronašao osećaj profesionalnog i ličnog fokusa u svom životu, fokusa kakvog nikada ranije nisam imao. Jednim delom, to je čista zahvalnost na činjenici da nisam mrtav, a ostalo je uzbuđenost zbog toga što sam dobio još jednu šansu da budem bolji čovek.
Međutim, u mom okruženju je bilo ljudi koji su razgovarali sa mnom kao da sam zaboravio da govorim engleski jezik, kao i onih koji su nadmašili sebe u pokušajima da budu okrutni prema meni. Jednom prilikom sam čuo svog nadređenog kako govori ostalima da mi je verovatno mozak ostećen. To nije tačno i prilično je opako reći jednu takvu stvar. Naravno da sam tokom tih prvih nekoliko meseci nakon moždanog udara malo sporije hodao, ali je moj govor bio normalan, moji neuroni su sve bolje funkcionisali i ja sam samo hteo da radim. I da ne zaboravim, moj „mozak“ je sasvim dobro.
Naravno, bilo je tu i onih prijatelja i rodbine koji su ponosno proslavljali naše pobede i u teškim danima nas održavali u normali, ali nikada neću moći da razumem to podrivanje od strane nekih drugih ljudi, koji su se ponašali kao da sam, a uz mene i Kerol, zarazan. Kada se pročulo da sam doživeo moždani udar, oboje smo doživeli da nam neki prijatelji okrenu leđa.
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Years of experience: 23. Registered at ProZ.com: Oct 2008.
