Darian Wolfe: Blog

I would like to say thank you to everyone who has written in response to my previous blog post. Your encouragement was heartwarming. I had shared it with the intention of giving a glimpse of what a catastrophic illness is like from the inside.

Not all injuries or illnesses can be seen and they affect more than the injured body parts. I've found a new normal that has a quality of life where I can still be excited about things and engage with the people and in most of the activities, I care about to a decent degree.

One of the things I learned during this time is that people, in general, are kinder than I believed them to be. That belief was strengthened by gentle words, well wishes and humorous responses sent my way. Thank you again.

Hello Everyone,

Yesterday, was a milestone in my life. In response, I posted this letter to my friends and family. After some thought, I decided to share it here as well. I only changed some names.

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Today is the 1st anniversary of the day I became someone I didn't want to be.

The Night of Hell

On August 16th, 2017 I laid down to take a nap. When I awoke my life had changed but I didn't know it. I got up and read for a few minutes and then went to speak to my wife. I could only speak in partial sentences.

My wife called my daughter who came over and rushed me to the ER. The initial diagnosis was stroke and my blood pressure was climbing. The medical staff got my bp under control but gave me a choice. I could spend the rest of my life unable to speak correctly or I could take a shot. The problem was if the shot failed I would die, literally die, within two to three minutes of taking it. I took the shot. I was moved to an acute stroke unit at another hospital later that night.

Now, let me tell you what I experienced in that ER room on a subjective level. Allow me to preface this by saying, I am no stranger to danger or fear. My former profession exposed me to plenty of it. What happened was so traumatic that for several months afterward, I couldn't even think about it without wanting to scream hysterically.

I was completely conscious and coherent. I was aware of my surroundings and interacting with the staff and my family. As I was doing this I was aware of my cognitive functions shutting down one by one. Like individual lights in a long hallway. My very Self turning off one piece at a time and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. One moment there would be a piece of me then the next a horrible darkness in its place. I was alone being annihilated one piece at a time.

I know there were people who loved me physically around me but in that interior place, I felt alone. I'm assuming this happened while my BP spiked. Because the darkness receded and after a bit, they transported me.

Recovery

In the stroke unit, they discovered that I did NOT have a stroke. Instead, I have been a lifelong sufferer of migraines and didn't know it as mine don't hurt. I had suffered a migraine with aura that had mimicked a stroke and left me with Broca's Aphasia. Broca's Aphasia is a disorder that affects the speech centers (written/verbal) of the brain. after a few days, I was sent home.

I was put on leave while they tried to figure if I would recover enough to be able to work. I discovered I could count objects I could touch but couldn't do simple sums like 2 + 3 +2 +1 =?
I spoke sometimes like an adult a lot of time like a child and sometimes couldn't speak at all. I could read. I could write a grocery list but couldn't write fiction. I couldn't pay attention long enough to watch tv but could watch music videos. I watched thousands of Glee Videos.

For the first two months, I almost never slept for more than a 1 1/2 hours at a time. It was one extremely long day to me. My migraine became painful the only thing that changed was the intensity. I discovered something else when my brain fried my religious sensibilities went with it. I literally had no feeling about it one way or the other. As I have spent most of my life in spiritual pursuits I found that odd but it didn't concern me.

What I did feel was shattered. It was as though everything I had ever had to feel good about myself as an individual was taken from me or severely damaged. My intellect, my abilities as a writer and speaker, as a contributor to my family.

I went into depression. My wife and daughters bought me a beautiful dog Tessa. Sometimes, I would just hold her and cry.
Other than my family, there are some individuals who have walked with me through this and I name them here: JK, AG, DN, CE, PM Each of you stood with me when I was in need. THANK YOU!

As the docs adjusted my meds I got thrown into bipolar behaviour. Due to experiences from my youth once I framed it as nothing more than a trip it was all good and easy to manage. After another two months, they got me fixed up enough to go back to work.

When Your Brain Changes You Change

The next 10 months I spent learning more about my new limitations and my new personality. When the structure of your brain changes you change as a person. I am not the same person I was on August 15, 2017. I have to take medicine twice a day to make sure I don't hurt someone if they scare me by accident because I don't have the self-control I used to.
Where I used to be plain spoken apparently, I become verbally abusive at the drop of a hat. I don't like those things about myself.

I spend a lot of time in dark rooms and prefer quiet. I still have cognitive and speech issues. I have reclaimed my ability to do creative writing and may one day stand on a stage again.

I have conflicted thoughts on religion. I have faith in nothing really. When my religious circuit came back online I found I had reverted to Pagan then it jumped to Christian and I sit back watching it going back and forth and am not impressed.

I did discover how angry I am at the Christian God. Not for the illness or the disabilities - that's just life. I can even accept death that's a divinities prerogative. What I won't look over is he made me look into that darkness - alone. Once when I felt able to pray I tried to work it out with him and he ignored me. so that's that. I don't believe in the literal existence of the Old Gods either so I guess I'm screwed in that department.

I have learned to be more compassionate to the needy and disabled. I do try to be more aware of the needs of those around me and fail miserably. I'm gaining a sense of optimism about this new person and his life.

I know I've said some things that upset some people. I apologize, but it is what is. The person you knew went away and can't come back. I'm here if you want to know me. Please don't come trying to change me because you can't. If you don't want to know me I wish you well on your journey.

Sir,

As an author and a reader, I stand beside you and support your right to create any type of fiction you damn well please. I am also happy that you choose to post any of your fiction that falls within the very generous guidelines of SOL.

If any person does not like your material then they are free not to read it. This is democracy at it's finest. The power of choice. To my knowledge, I have never read one of your stories. I simply haven't got around to it. I have no bias for or against you as an individual author. I do support your freedom of creation as an author. As writers, we visit many cultures and myths and plumb their depths to see how they interact with the human heart because they are an intricate part of the human condition. When two or more cultures interact it is an interesting dynamic.

As Darian Wolfe, I am decidedly nonpolitical in my stories for my own reasons. I will leave you with an interesting thought. If someone of non-European descent uses English to accuse you of cultural appropriation they themselves are guilty of it. Both in the fact they are using English and the fact they are using Sociology a European discipline created shortly after the Enlightenment to even frame the accusation. Here comes my hate mail ;)

Either way, Don't let anyone of any persuasion tell you what you can write. Write to suit yourself!

Cheers

Hello Everyone,

Summer is upon us. The temperatures were I live have been rising which have been wreaking havoc with my illness. I have been transitioning in and out of Aphasia two or more times a day and we haven't even hit the 90's yet. The increased transitioning is creating cognitive difficulties.

Today at work, I freaked because I was doing the annual Health Plan Review and I could not understand the information. I freaked because several years ago I was a licensed Health Insurance agent who had graduated at the top of my State exams.

I am still working on Stories but until this resolves I can make no promises as to when I will be able to post again.

Cheers,

Darian

Hello Everyone,

A few minutes ago my wife gave me a small pencil sharpener in the shape of a duck. It's a pretty little thing with painted feathers. I put it on a shelf at my desk where I can see it and find it when it needed.

It got me to thinking. I was pleased to receive such a small trinket. When I was younger and more handsome women would sometimes buy me expensive gifts: clothes, jewelry, things of that nature. I never asked. They just did it. I was appreciative, but none of those gifts meant much. They were more like "please don't go away payments" than honest consideration of my feelings.

The little duck was a token of appreciation. I like it.

Darian