Welcome to our blog! I originally started this blog in November 2010 just prior to having a major brain surgery to remove a large bleeding cavernous angioma from a deep part of my brain. You can best understand the gravity of our experience by reading the first several entries.(Nov 2010-Dec 2010) I wrote the first one and my sweet, adoring husband, John, wrote the next several (while I was too sick to do much of anything) that documented surgery, immediate recovery, and our reaction to the surgery complication (stroke)that was revealed 2 days after surgery. This recovery process has been difficult but we are making it. We appreciate all the kind words of encouragement we have received and we would like to thank everyone that has participated in helping us along this difficult journey. Also, if you have any questions about my personal experience, please leave them as a comment or contact me directly at thankfulforeveryday@yahoo.com and I will respond although I am not a doctor and this is not a replacement for medical care or advise. Please ask a real professional, or probably several. :) I hope to be able to help at least one person along the challenging road of brain surgery and recovery.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Stroke recovery is like a marathon

Except you don't exactly train for it and you never really pass the finish line. Or if you do pass the finish, when do you know you're there? For many survivors, it just seems to go on and on endlessly....way better than the alternative. :) I'll continue to be in the race for as long as it takes and in my ferociously competitive nature..I'm going to win..even though I'm only competing with myself...which is how much of this recovery thing has gone. I'm constantly trying to best myself. Can I lift more weight, do more reps, last longer, be faster, and on and on. I guess having a competitive heart has served me well in this instance. The other successful attitude has been persistence. I may not be the smartest, strongest, whatever...but I am crazy persistent and that's what this takes.
Previously, I have said I wanted to run a marathon in my lifetime. I don't even like running. It just seemed like an accomplishment of the mind to me. Something you prepare for as much mentally as physically, then you push yourself to complete the goal. Sounded like a fun challenge. Well, not anymore. No other marathons for me, thanks. This is the only one that matters, and it's not over yet.


  1. Very well said.
    Last year, on my two year anniversary of getting sick, I did a 2 k fit run/walk and was joined by by my husband and four adult kids. I am supposed to be walking anyway so being goal oriented I actually "trained". It was a phenomenal experience and such a family celebration of how far I had come in so many ways. Oh, and me and my walker were not quite the last to cross the finish line.
    You are so right -- the marathon continues.

  2. Living a life worth living after a stroke is all I can handle too. I agree - no more marathons. Keep spreading the good news that continuing to fight does make a difference.

  3. I think a marathon description is too short, either an ultramarathon or a 24 hour race sounds right to me. It goes with the 24 hour a day therapy mindset that is needed.

  4. No more marathon's for any of 'us!' ;)
    Some days 'baby' steps, some days bigger ones & don't forget to give yourself a hug on those days when the steps seem impossible. :)
    Cheering you on always,

  5. My favorite quote from Sleepless in Seattle:

    Well, I'm gonna get out of bed every morning... breathe in and out all day long. Then, after a while I won't have to remind myself to get out of bed every morning and breathe in and out... and, then after a while, I won't have to think about how I had it great and perfect for a while.

    I think life's sort of like that. Something happens and you've no choice but to focus on just breathing. Just getting through. And it does, it gets easier every day until one day you forget what it was like when life was perfect, before that something happened to change your world. And this changed world of yours is just that, yours. However imperfect. You just have to keep going.

    My point. Um. Breathing, living, is a marathon.Sounds like breathing has become a little easier for you. I'm so happy for you. Keep going. :)

  6. I wrote about Jack in response to your comment on my "Cooking Is Therapy for the Hand" post.