On a beautiful spring day in April of 2019, just days before my 59th birthday, I was working from home for the first time. I had started a new job in October and had to wait six months to work from home twice weekly. The day was productive, it felt good working without distraction. It was amazing I was working at all! During the interview, the Chief Nurse Executive asked where I saw myself in five years…well, I was honest, “Hopefully retired!” I exclaimed, thinking that was probably not what she wanted to hear, but really, who asks that question of a person teetering on 60? I followed the interview up with a thank you email, explaining my excited response, stating my hope was to retire from wherever I was working next. My wife and I had relocated from Washington DC to Atlanta in 2017, my in-laws are located here, and we thought it was a good time to come down and get acquainted before the we were needed. We both had difficulty finding positions, agism is alive and well in our industry.
So, returning to that beautiful spring day…. First thing that morning I decided today was the day! I would tender the battery on my Vespa and have it ready to go right after work. Once I got the bike started, I was ready to go! I loved this scooter – I rode it every chance I got while living in DC and hadn’t really been able to do a lot of riding since we moved. I started to leave our gated community and noticed a gentleman walking by, I nodded to him. When I looked down, I saw my hands on the grips, but they were a bit out of control, turning the handlebars back and forth and not understanding why, I also noticed I had turned the bike around heading back to my house. The next thing I know, I’m face down, my leg under the scooter and I can’t move or breath very well.
I turn myself over, getting my leg out from under the bike. The gentleman asking if I’m okay. I ask him to call 911 and try to give him the address and gate code. Luckily, a colleague of mine lives in the same community and came over to see what the fuss was about, she was stunned to find me there. She was very helpful and called Ashley, my wife. She also went to the ER and waited for the ambulance to get me there and stayed with me until Ashley was able to get to the hospital. Unfortunately, I am generally to well-mannered and when the EMT’s got there I made a joke about getting the party started. This I found out later from Ashley, a former EMT, was probably not wise and probably made them believe I was less hurt than I was. Proven by them making me get off the stretcher into a wheelchair and parking me in the waiting room. I have a very high tolerance for pain, but in that moment, I was coping as best I could, but I knew this wasn’t going to be good.
Once they took me back and got some Xray’s it was discovered I had four, possibly five, broken ribs in my back on the left side and a small pneumothorax to my lung. With this news I was finally given some drugs for the pain. When I was asked what happened, I explained. But when they asked if I passed out, I said no. Which is a normal response for a woman who has had a lot of hard knocks in life, but it was very big mistake in the end.
Recovering at home I stayed in recliner because there was no way I could lay down. At one point I didn’t get up for 24 hours, not even for the restroom.
At some point my vision changed. I attributed it to my recent cataract surgeries, undergone in February and March. I was having difficulty in March with double vision and attributed that to the surgery. It was unfortunate because two things; I tried desperately to get in with the ophthalmologist and found him unavailable and was scheduled with an associate at the practice who called me the morning of my appointment and canceled stating there was nothing she could do for me. Which I found utterly unprofessional and later, completely non-sensical. The second, my wife was to defend her dissertation at Catholic University in DC the following week and we were to celebrate at our favorite restaurant in Baltimore, with my vision, I didn’t want to drive so there for needed to depend on a friend.
At the time the vision changed and my inability to get up the stairs and into bed, my wife brought in my sister Jean, an angle if there ever was one. She came immediately. The next day we got an appointment with my ophthalmologist at the office up in Woodstock, just north of their Maritta office. While undergoing the exam I was reading the letters on the screen in front of me. At one point, my sister tells me, the letter “N” came up on the screen and all I could say was I know that letter, but I can’t think of what it’s called. Then after the field vision test, you know, the one where you’re just responding to minute light flashes? Well, after the test he showed us the results. I was only seeing the lights on the left side of the field. The doctor said, “You need to get to the hospital; I think you’re having a stroke.”
On the way to the hospital, my sister called Ashley and let her know what was happening. I was in shock. I had worked in Quality Management in Healthcare and was aware of the signs of stroke. I kept thinking about the fact I wasn’t having any symptoms and thinking the vision problem was due to the cataract surgery. I was wrong.
When I run into serious health issues, which I have often in my life, I tend to not remember details. Hence, Ashley has helped with the hospital stay reflection. I do however have a rock star sister who has taken care of me plenty of times when I’ve been hospitalized. She had the wherewithal to record the neurologist going over my MRI, so I do remember that. And perhaps I’ll post that as well on this site.
Firstly, I was grateful to the neurologist, he didn’t pull any punches. He explained the view of the MRI, what was up and what was down. Secondly, he slowly scrolled down the layers of the image of my brain showing several smaller strokes—in a bright yellow. As he continued a good portion of the screen turned yellow – this was a major stroke. The stroke that has taken the right vision in both eyes. So. Not the cataract surgery. He tells me my vision probably won’t come back. My heart stops. He continues, there may be some improvement but not enough to drive, you need 140-degree field of vision to drive.
It’s unbelievable to me. One of my greatest passions and joys in life is driving. I grew up in the Detroit area, many of my siblings and father worked UAW jobs. When I was little, I could sit on my front porch in the evening and guess the make and model of a car by their headlights. I once put 200K miles my first BMW in 5 years. I couldn’t imagine what my life would look like without the ability to drive.
The neurologist continued with his assessment of the MRI and what he thought might have happened. He explained he thought perhaps something broke off in an artery or in my heart. He was correct, it turned out. I had a hole in my heart, and I didn’t know it. After being laid up with the broken ribs for days, I developed a blood clot, and it went straight to my brain.
I had other deficits besides the loss of sight in the right sides of both my eyes (which is a lot like walking next to a curtain, all the time, giving me a 90-degree field of vision). Basically, I can see anything left of my nose. I have cognitive issues, executive function issues, aphasia, and the sight issues makes it difficult to work on computers.
Fortunately, I have a large family. After I was discharged from the hospital, there was always someone was at our house to help get me to rehab and appointments so Ashley could return to work. I also had friends come. We had just moved to Georgia in 2017, this is where Ashley grew up and her parents are still here in Atlanta. So having friends and family willing to come and help us meant a great deal to both of us.
Julie’s doctor explains the MRI:
Right field vision cut, example of Julie’s eyesight post stroke: