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… school starts! Tomorrow’s the big day. I’m back in the classroom. Right now, I don’t know what it’ll be like or how I’ll do. In fact, I’m nervous. Really nervous. Before orientation on Friday, I started crying — it felt just like high school. Was I dressed OK? Would people make fun of my zits? (Since abandoning my birth control pill after the first stroke, it’s come back with a vengance.) What would a “real” college feel like? Would people be understanding when I tell them about my strokes?

I still don’t know. People seem to not care. It’s not a bad solution, but … I’ll feel better after I go to class tomorrow. Knock on wood.

Anyway, orientation went as welll as could be expected. I was tired, but I didn’t fall asleep in the middle of any presentations or anything like that. However, during the ice cream social when we were supposed to go around and meet people, I froze. This is very untypical of me; usually, I’m very friendly. But on Friday, I was tired and nervous. Hopefully tomorrow will go better, and I’ll be outgoing and meet people and all will be well.

I had a good meeting with Mark, my neuropsychologist, on Thursday. Believe it or not, we talked for three hours — yes, three — about my strokes. !!! I didn’t know there was so much to tell! It was very interesting to hear Ben’s take on them, though. It didn’t occur to me how much he’s endured (or how difficult I could be!). When I was in the hospital the second time, for instance, Ben asked me math facts questions — and I got them wrong. Very wrong. “What’s the cube root of a thousand?” was one I remember — and I didn’t know. But Ben asked me if it bothered me that I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. I guess that’s good — normally, it would have me panicky — but poor Ben, he didn’t think so highly of my carelessness.

Mark’s going to have me back for more testing, but he’s also going to “titrate” my medicine — that is, help me assess what dose is best for me. I am so excited that he’s going to help me! If you could wake me up, I would be SO happy! Cross your fingers for me!

Greetings! I haven’t posted for a whole week. Sorry about that. Why the delay, you ask? I have been tired. Exhausted. Completely dead.

It bothers Ben when I’m “out” tired like I have been. I can’t blame him; he wonders if I’m having another stroke, and if I’m “alive”. I’d be worried, too. He asks me questions more heatedly; “What are you thinking about?” he says. “AARRGGHH!!! I’m TIRED!” I eventually say, but it’s hard. I’m so tired that talking has become difficult.

It’s hard to explain to people what the tiredness is like. It does feel different from being tired before my strokes; it’s a mental tiredness. The hard thing to describe, though, it how overwhelming it is. When I’m tired … it really sucks. REALLY sucks. I want to be over it, but I can’t psychologically pull myself out of it. I’ve tried, believe me. It’s such a change from the way I used to be; I think about pulling all-nighters at Tech and wonder, “How did I EVER do that?” It seems impossible to me now.

I’m going to talk to my doctor about Zoloft. My tiredness seems to have come as it took effect, along with my insomnia. (Do you know how it feels to be completely exhausted but awake in bed, staring at the ceiling? Welcome to my world!) Maybe there’s another antidepressant that wouldn’t have these side effects … well, I can always hope!

I’m a little better today, thank goodness. Tomorrow, I have an afternoon “neuropsych” appointment at the Brain and Behavior Clinic. This is a three hour appointment (three hours!) to TALK about testing my brain’s level of fuctioning — an eight hour ordeal. Goodness. Then, on Friday, I have orientation for my teacher education program at CU. It’s going to be a tiring couple of days.

Take care, y’all! :)

Today Ben drove me to Denver to visit an OB-GYN recommended by my gynecologist. She was VERY nice and knowledgeable. She’s not actually an ob-gyn but a medical consultant who works with the ob-gyn department (she doesn’t deliver the babies herself — she’s mostly concerned with the mother’s health.) However, she does research on hypercoagulant pregnant women — and I fall right into that category!

Mom, I don’t want you to get TOO excited, nor worried, by my visit. We’re going to wait — probably for quite a while — before doing anything crazy like getting pregnant. However, it was nice to know what we’re getting in to before it happens.

Dr. Barbour said that I will need to be checked every two weeks to see how well my anticoagulant shots are working. I will have to give myself shots twice a day while I’m pregant (!!!), and it’s just like on coumadin — you need to test how well they’re working. Moreover, the dose I need to take will change when I’m pregnant, which is no big surprise. It is, however, annoying.

Which brings up the whole doctor situation. Dr. Barbour said that they can coordinate care with an ob-gyn in Boulder, but that any doctor there would almost certainly prefer that I deliver the baby at the university’s hospital in Denver. I expected this, but it’s kind of sad; it takes a little over an hour to drive to the hospital in Denver, which is a long time, especially after you’ve had a stroke. Ben drove today, so I’m not dead tired, but it’s going to be a trek when I’m having a baby. Maybe Ben can stay home and not travel the continent :)

As far as delivery goes, it’s pretty much the same as normal except that the doctors will do everything they can to avoid a C-section. During a C-section, they cut you open so you bleed a lot — but I’ll be on anticoagulants, so I could bleed out. Conversely, your risk of clots (either in the brain, as in a stroke, or in your pelvis — why, I don’t know) is much higher. They can still administer pitocin, which is a hormone that induces labor.

As for my risk of a stroke during pregnancy, she said that there isn’t enough data to predict it. “There are maybe 5 people in your situation in the Denver area,” meaning one stroke on birth control and a second out of the blue on asprin, she said. “I just can’t extrapolate from that.” Fair enough.

Ben returned home from a week in California on Saturday. My mom came out to keep me company during his absence — thanks, Mom!

Mom and I met Ben at the mall when he arrived on Saturday. We said a quick goodbye to her, though, as she was headed to the airport for a VERY early arrival due to the threatened terrorist attacks in England. Ben and I went to Chick Fil A to grab lunch, then to the movie theater to get tickets to a show. No sooner had we purchased them, though, then Ben decided that I was “too tired.” I started crying, not so much because I was determined to watch a movie, but because … I’m too tired to see a movie??? What AM I “allowed” to do?

Anyway, I’ve been very tired for the past two weeks. I don’t know if it’s leftover from Hawaii, because I’m not sleeping, or the Gods of Awakeness simply aren’t on my side. It’s extremely frustrating. I haven’t read *anything*, so I’ve got no summary to hand in to Melissa tomorrow. I haven’t felt up to practicing my balloon exercises. Most of all, though, it just sucks to be tired. Nobody can see it as a handicap, but if affects everything you do. :(

[Edit] In all fairness to Ben, he suggested that we sit on the grass and talk for a while. We did, and it was wonderful. The temperature was perfect — the air was cool, the sky was covered in clouds, and Ben really listened to me. It must be so hard to have his role — the primary caretaker. I’d almost rather have a stroke than be married to someone who does. After about a month of really taking care of me (washing the sheets when I pee in the bed, cleaning glass up off the floor when I drop a carafe, etc.), you’d think it’d be almost over … and then the hard part begins. Two to five YEARS of being stuck with someone whose cognitive skills have gone from excellent (99th percentile) to relatively crappy (25th percentile). Those numbers don’t really describe the problem; I’m slow. REALLY slow.

It must be difficult to deal with a spouse who’s suddenly slow. Not stupid (because I’m not!), but slow. But, so far, Ben has been dealing with it splendidly. :) One good thing about the strokes is the effect it’s had on our marriage. It’s great! We don’t fight about stuff anymore. Big Bertha, for example … if I had the energy, I might make a stink about it, but since I don’t, I haven’t said anything. It’s really not THAT bad! (Ask me again next week and the story might change. I fully reserve the right to resume complaing whenever I feel like it.)

I realize that in my past couple blog entries, I haven’t been fair to Ben. I would like to apologize. Honey, I LOVE you, and I thank you for all the care you’ve given me. I love you! [/Edit]

I had a dream the other night about writing a thesis. *I* was writing my thesis — I’d almost finished my PhD! The odd thing was, though, that it was really easy to do. It was only about thirty pages long! Moreover, most of it was references to other people’s work; I hadn’t written anything about what I’d done. It made me think of Jen Yu, and her thesis, and “Why can’t she just get it done already?” Of course, I woke up and realized it was all a dream, and that actually, writing a thesis is very difficult.

I went to OT (occupational therapy) today, and Karen confirmed what I’d hoped — that I’m not a freak for being afraid of the ocean. It’s not in my head, either … well, it IS in my head, but I’m not just wussing out. It is definitely stroke related; I asked if I could have “stroke-induced wave phobia”, and she said that “phobia” implies a psychiatric fear of water. My problem is just sensory. I’m not afraid of the water; I’m getting sensory overload. The noise of the waves, the movement of the water, my bouyancy, etc. all combine to flood my brain. Which sucks, but now that I know about it I can start to fix it.

She played “toss” with a ballon with me; I’m pretty good at it, but when she hits it directly at my face, I freak out. Why, I don’t know; it’s not like a balloon is going to hurt me. She also played “kickball” with me, which feels a LOT like a soccer drill; in fact, it IS a soccer drill. You simply pass the ball back and forth. I did great until she kicked the ball close to the wall to my left; then I freaked out again. She said that it’s because I don’t have a good sense of where I am in relation to the wall. My homework is to practice these “games”.

It is a relief to know that what I experienced in Hawaii is normal for stroke victims. Next week, we’re going to the pool during therapy (yeah!) to see what’s up with the water — whether I’m frightened in the pool, too, or whether it’s only the ocean.

Aloha! Ben and I returned from Hawaii on Saturday, and I’ve got a lot to share about my trip.

First off, Maui is GORGEOUS. Absolutely, positively beautiful. Oh my goodness — WOW. Like Costa Rica (where Ben and I honeymooned three years ago), it (well, the side we stayed on) is a rainforest; unlike Costa Rica, though, the roads are good and they serve regular food. :)

When we arrived on Monday after a 2 1/2 hour drive from the airport in Kahului, our first order of business — yes, you guessed it — was to fall asleep. We were absolutely exhausted. The next morning (which starts rather early when you go to bed at seven pm), however, we got up and went to the beach. The beaches are magnificant! First, we went to Koki Beach, but the surf was too big there. And there was a big sign saying “Lots of people have died here; be careful.” We took some pictures and headed over to Hamoa Beach, which is one of the finest beaches in the world according to the folks who rank beaches. It was AMAZING!!! The whole thing is ringed by flowers, and the beach is large and sandy. Unfortunately, though, the surf was big here, too.

On our third try, we found the “Red Sand Beach”. Big rocks created a lagoon so that we could, in Ben’s mind, go snorkeling. I was scared, but I did it! The waves were crashing on the rocks outside the lagoon, and the noise bothered me. I was worried that a big wave would come crashing over my snorkel at any moment, even though there weren’t any big whitecaps in the area where we were snorkeling. :( I finally got out, but Ben kept prodding me to come back in — “What are you afraid of?” and “I don’t think there’s any such thing as a stroke-induced wave-phobia.” I told him that I was tired, I wasn’t afraid of the waves but the noise of the waves, and, actually, I WAS kind of afraid of the waves. He stopped making fun of me, and I know he didn’t mean anything bad by doing so, but still … I found out another thing that the stroke ruined, and that’s my love of the water. I can’t imagine myself going scuba diving for quite a while. :(

Anyway, I read a book on this red sand beach for a couple hours, and wouldn’t you know it, there are a bunch of naked people also on this beach. Gross! I’m all for doing your own thing, and if you’d like to go skinny-dipping, that’s fine … but also hang out naked on the beach? It was a little weird. Especially MY naked guy, who walked up and started a conversation with me. I had my earplugs in at the time, trying to block out the waves, and he was a little hard to hear. He said something about going to the Venus Pools (whatever that is!). I nodded — probably politely, but I’m not sure because I was tired by this time — and he went on his way. But then he came BACK!!! With written directions! I thanked him and tucked the directions in my book.

We did actually go to the Venus Pool the next morning. It’s kind of the same idea as the lagoon, but more peaceful. Naked Guy said there were a bunch of places to jump off the side of the rock into the water, which was a big selling point for him. Not for me. I would’ve dove right in before my strokes, but … not now. I tested my balance walking around on the basalt instead. My balance, I’ve discovered, has definitely been impacted by my strokes. I’m slow walking around on these sorts of things because I feel like I’m going to slip. AAARRGGHHH.

Ben found “the Perfect Spot” to go snorkeling at the town’s public beach. It was very small. It was protected by the harbor, so there weren’t any big waves. (Ha!) He went in for a dip and convinced me to try, too. The fish were pretty, but I felt like I was going to DIE. Oh well. At least Ben got to snorkel.

We also toured a lava tube. That was way cool. Only 960 years (that’s not many!) ago, lava flowed through the tube we went in. We saw stalagmites and stalactities. The best part, though, was turning off our flashlights and making out in complete darkness. ;) What kind of geologist am I, anyway?

Unfortunately, our trip was short, and it was already time to head back. Thus began our LONG and uncomfortable trip back to Denver. First we followed the twisty, curvy Hana Highway back to Kahului, then discovered that our flight didn’t leave until 8pm and we had a good five hours to kill. We went to the mall. However, this was the most embarrassing part of the trip for me. Ben had to say things like, “Please sit up in the car; it’s not safe to slouch like that.” “But I’m tired!” I protested. Ben continued, “Please take those noise-cancelling headphones off. You look weird. And brush your hair!” He was right on all accounts, and I’m glad he told me. But all I could say was “I’m tired!”

We got to Denver at 8:56 the following morning, exhausted but in one piece. I went to bed at eight that night, figuring I’d wake up at six, but instead I awoke to the sound of Ben’s alarm twelve hours later. I was EXHASUTED.

Thank you for such a wonderful trip, Ben! Mahalo! What a fantastic way to celebrate our anniversary :)