Chris
As some of you know, on Friday, May 17, my young and seemingly healthy (heroic, handsome, brilliant, and sweet) husband had a stroke as he and Kyu were driving home from Lexington to Brookline. To not bury the lede: he is now out of the hospital and will not have any permanent physical or mental effects. However, I can safely say that, emotionally, we are fairly traumatized. I'll need to write this in installments...
"It" happened a mile from our house as Chris and Kyu approached Comm Ave, a major street, in Allston. Chris says that the vision in his left eye suddenly became distorted, and he felt extremely disoriented. SOMEHOW, he managed to pull the car into an alley. He first tried to call me, thought better of it, and dialed 911. He told me later that finding the buttons on his phone was extremely hard, which surprised me because when he called me next, he was calm and seemed pretty normal.
I, meanwhile, had been sitting fully dressed on the bed like a dummy, eagerly awaiting Chris and Kyu's return -- we were planning to go to Otto for pizza -- when the phone rang the first time. Next came a series of nonsense texts, so I thought Kyu was playing with Chris' phone. When Chris called back and told me he'd called 911, I actually wasn't that worried. He'd been feeling kind of sick all that week -- he'd even thrown up for the first time in our 16-year relationship -- and I figured it was something with his stomach making him feel weird. Chris told me later he knew it was a stroke, but he didn't say that, and I didn't guess. You know... because he's 37 and the healthiest dude I've ever known???
I managed to walk up to where they were just as the paramedics were getting ready to take Chris. Kyu was with them in the ambulance and was crying, but Chris later told me that the paramedics had had trouble finding them in the alley, and it had been Kyu to take Chris by the hand and calmly lead him to the ambulance like a glorious little hero. Kyu quieted upon my arrival, but I could instantly see that Chris was worse than I'd thought: he could barely talk. I was also scared when I left the ambulance to get the car and found it running, parked askew, with all the windows down. So unlike Chris to not follow the rules.
St. Elizabeth's Hospital was only two blocks away. When Kyu and I managed to make it to the ER -- not that quickly thanks to the elderly front desk attendant who, after finishing her personal call, didn't know where I should park (hint: it's the ER parking lot) -- the sweet paramedics were waiting for me. I didn't take it as a good sign. Chris was even more out of it. "What are we thinking it is?" I asked one of the nurses, and that was that was the first time I heard the word "stroke." I then watched in horror as the nurses unsuccessfully tried to get Chris to move his left side. He could barely lift his left leg, and he couldn't move his left arm at all. The left side of his face was also sagging, and his speech was slurred.
A neurologist arrived and explained that the stroke had likely occurred in the right side of Chris' brain, sparing his language center but causing the issues with his left side. Chris had been able to correctly answer the barrage of questions -- What's the month? Where are you? -- but I felt like something was off with the style of his speech. His syntax was correct but overly formal, and he was being uncharacteristically candid with his answers. Chris Miller is a pretty reserved dude, but there he was telling his life story to one of the nurses. I asked the neurologist if a stroke in that area could have affected Chris' personality, and he said yes. This scared me most of all.
At this point, they got Chris' (ornate, excessively formal) permission to begin administering TPA, a drug that would break up any blood clots that could be causing the stroke. I was keeping things light for Kyu's sake -- I stared blankly for like 20 seconds at a nice nurse who asked if there was anyone I could call to come get him -- but inside, I was frantically imagining what a life where Chris could not fully move his left side and looked and acted differently than he had before. Would people be unkind to him? Would we have to move out of our second-floor apartment? Would we have to move to Lexington for his job? Would he even be able to work?
Chris was exhausted -- a common effect of strokes -- and Kyu was getting restless and hungry. We decided to go get something to eat as we waited for the TPA to take its effect. Before I left, the nurse asked for my phone number, and that reminded me off the handful of Chris' belonging that had been thrust at me as I'd entered the ER. It included his wallet, phone, and sunglasses. His shoes and a shirt I'd just gotten him for Easter were also sitting on a chair in creepy plastic bags. For some reason, that I and not Chris had his phone really upset me, and I cried for the first time. He always has that phone, and if I texted him, he wouldn't answer.
Kyu and I left. Outside, I called my mom and cried as much as I could without scaring Kyu. She agreed to deliver the horrible news to Chris' mom, and Kyu and I went across the street to a pizza place. I thought sadly of our plans to go to Otto. I again stared blankly as I tried to order and then probably scared the staff by crying a lot as I fielded phone calls and texts from Chris' mom and sisters (maybe not... they do work across from an ER, after all). Chris' mom and sister Monica were coming to help. Thank goodness.
We trudged back up the hill to the ER. There, we were met with a wonderful sight: Chris waving to us with his arm. His LEFT arm. He spoke without slurring and lifted his left leg high. The drug had worked.
To be continued...
"It" happened a mile from our house as Chris and Kyu approached Comm Ave, a major street, in Allston. Chris says that the vision in his left eye suddenly became distorted, and he felt extremely disoriented. SOMEHOW, he managed to pull the car into an alley. He first tried to call me, thought better of it, and dialed 911. He told me later that finding the buttons on his phone was extremely hard, which surprised me because when he called me next, he was calm and seemed pretty normal.
I, meanwhile, had been sitting fully dressed on the bed like a dummy, eagerly awaiting Chris and Kyu's return -- we were planning to go to Otto for pizza -- when the phone rang the first time. Next came a series of nonsense texts, so I thought Kyu was playing with Chris' phone. When Chris called back and told me he'd called 911, I actually wasn't that worried. He'd been feeling kind of sick all that week -- he'd even thrown up for the first time in our 16-year relationship -- and I figured it was something with his stomach making him feel weird. Chris told me later he knew it was a stroke, but he didn't say that, and I didn't guess. You know... because he's 37 and the healthiest dude I've ever known???
I managed to walk up to where they were just as the paramedics were getting ready to take Chris. Kyu was with them in the ambulance and was crying, but Chris later told me that the paramedics had had trouble finding them in the alley, and it had been Kyu to take Chris by the hand and calmly lead him to the ambulance like a glorious little hero. Kyu quieted upon my arrival, but I could instantly see that Chris was worse than I'd thought: he could barely talk. I was also scared when I left the ambulance to get the car and found it running, parked askew, with all the windows down. So unlike Chris to not follow the rules.
St. Elizabeth's Hospital was only two blocks away. When Kyu and I managed to make it to the ER -- not that quickly thanks to the elderly front desk attendant who, after finishing her personal call, didn't know where I should park (hint: it's the ER parking lot) -- the sweet paramedics were waiting for me. I didn't take it as a good sign. Chris was even more out of it. "What are we thinking it is?" I asked one of the nurses, and that was that was the first time I heard the word "stroke." I then watched in horror as the nurses unsuccessfully tried to get Chris to move his left side. He could barely lift his left leg, and he couldn't move his left arm at all. The left side of his face was also sagging, and his speech was slurred.
A neurologist arrived and explained that the stroke had likely occurred in the right side of Chris' brain, sparing his language center but causing the issues with his left side. Chris had been able to correctly answer the barrage of questions -- What's the month? Where are you? -- but I felt like something was off with the style of his speech. His syntax was correct but overly formal, and he was being uncharacteristically candid with his answers. Chris Miller is a pretty reserved dude, but there he was telling his life story to one of the nurses. I asked the neurologist if a stroke in that area could have affected Chris' personality, and he said yes. This scared me most of all.
At this point, they got Chris' (ornate, excessively formal) permission to begin administering TPA, a drug that would break up any blood clots that could be causing the stroke. I was keeping things light for Kyu's sake -- I stared blankly for like 20 seconds at a nice nurse who asked if there was anyone I could call to come get him -- but inside, I was frantically imagining what a life where Chris could not fully move his left side and looked and acted differently than he had before. Would people be unkind to him? Would we have to move out of our second-floor apartment? Would we have to move to Lexington for his job? Would he even be able to work?
Chris was exhausted -- a common effect of strokes -- and Kyu was getting restless and hungry. We decided to go get something to eat as we waited for the TPA to take its effect. Before I left, the nurse asked for my phone number, and that reminded me off the handful of Chris' belonging that had been thrust at me as I'd entered the ER. It included his wallet, phone, and sunglasses. His shoes and a shirt I'd just gotten him for Easter were also sitting on a chair in creepy plastic bags. For some reason, that I and not Chris had his phone really upset me, and I cried for the first time. He always has that phone, and if I texted him, he wouldn't answer.
Kyu and I left. Outside, I called my mom and cried as much as I could without scaring Kyu. She agreed to deliver the horrible news to Chris' mom, and Kyu and I went across the street to a pizza place. I thought sadly of our plans to go to Otto. I again stared blankly as I tried to order and then probably scared the staff by crying a lot as I fielded phone calls and texts from Chris' mom and sisters (maybe not... they do work across from an ER, after all). Chris' mom and sister Monica were coming to help. Thank goodness.
We trudged back up the hill to the ER. There, we were met with a wonderful sight: Chris waving to us with his arm. His LEFT arm. He spoke without slurring and lifted his left leg high. The drug had worked.
To be continued...