This picture symbolizes the challenges I face every morning upon waking, especially when I feel cold, experience pain, or encounter stress and uncertainty. My left hand instinctively wants to panic against my chest and clench into a fist, a phenomenon often referred to as “stroke arm.” The left side of my body tends to remain in a state of atrophy—tense, tight, and withdrawn. It’s a struggle just to open my hand in the morning, a simple action that most people take for granted. I can no longer afford that luxury.

My left knee and ankle mirror the behavior of my left hand, remaining tense and tight. It takes considerable time to loosen my knee enough to walk semi-normally, even with the aid of a walker, but I am making progress. Without resorting to videotaping my daily struggles with basic tasks, this picture comes close to capturing my reality. It is incredibly frustrating and a daily battle, but I hold onto the hope that things will improve. As much as I long for a return to normalcy, I understand that it won’t happen overnight. Medical professionals have advised me to expect a recovery period of one to 18 months, and I intend to heed their advice, as I am at high risk for another stroke in the coming year. This situation is no joke; I wouldn’t wish it upon my worst enemy. It is frightening, isolating, and surreal—like experiencing an out-of-body moment, at least on one side.

I am committed to my recovery and am learning to exercise patience throughout the process. Interestingly, one positive outcome of my stroke is that I no longer struggle with ADHD; I can now focus on one task at a time. Multitasking, such as walking while chewing gum, overwhelms me and drains my energy. Walking alone is a significant challenge, so that is where my focus lies. It feels like a battle against half of my own body, devoid of spatial and temporal recognition. I must relearn these concepts and retrain my brain accordingly.

I often feel exhausted and find myself sleeping much of the day, which I’ve been encouraged to allow. My appetite has increased, and I am losing weight rapidly, fluctuating between 145 and 150 pounds—far too thin for my liking. However, my brain requires substantial energy to heal, and I must provide it in any way I can.