Crisis? What Crisis?

As well as one of my favourite Supertramp songs, it’s a question I’ve been asking myself for the last four weeks. Never waste a good crisis, right? But what if the crisis in question is my husband’s stroke?

You can never prepare for something like this. You might think you’re prepared, but you’re not. What we thought was the flu was in fact a stroke and the FAST check list (Face drooping; Arm weakness; Speech difficulty; Time to call 111) wasn’t enough for us to detect it in time. And our stroke wasn’t a split-second event – in fact, my husband walked into hospital 4 weeks ago unaided and he signed the admission form himself. But four days later he couldn’t lift his right arm off the bed and he needed two people to help him walk.

Why am I writing about this on LinkedIn? For two reasons – firstly, I’m a writer and that’s how I process things and express myself. But secondly, everything is a learning experience. And this stroke has taught me some lessons that I want to apply to my work life.

• Perspective. BS (that’s ‘Before Stroke’), like most of us, I experienced anxiety at work. Waking at 3 in the morning worrying about the outcome of some meeting or discussion, second guessing my performance, wondering how I was going to get everything done perfectly. It’s amazing how something truly important makes all of that disappear. What I’d like to do now is keep hold of that realisation.
• Acceptance. There are good times and there are bad times – and both come to an end. That’s just life. I believe that acceptance can lead to happiness, regardless of your circumstances. Some days things will flow, work will be great, people will agree with us and we’ll tick all the tasks on our to do list. And some days we’ll spill our coffee, have an argument with a co-worker, hit a brick wall and wonder if we’re good enough. Both days end and the great news is we get to start all over again.
• Asking for help. I’ve always struggled to ask for help at work but in this situation, I found I had no choice. And the help was there. Our friends and colleagues truly surprised me with their generosity and their genuine desire to do something – anything – to help us. So, for the first time, I found myself being able to ask for help, to accept help, and to express how incredibly grateful I am for it.
• Optimism. Ultimately, that’s what got me through. Optimism to the point that I got incredibly frustrated with people’s sympathy. What we went through is hard, but lots of people have it worse. I learned that I find it impossible to wallow in self-pity or buy into the drama, or waste my time feeling sorry for myself. With optimism comes action, and action is what will help us get through this.

I’m not saying you should wish for a good crisis, but never waste one either. As difficult as our stroke has been, it’s also been a wonderful opportunity. I call it ‘our stroke’ because the damage might be to my husband’s brain, but the stroke happened to both of us. And by going through it together, we’re learning a lot about each other. We’ve cried together, sat together in shock, shouted at each other, and belly laughed until our faces hurt. We’re stronger. We’re ready to get on with our lives. And coming back to work is a chance to reflect on what our stroke has taught me and see if I can find a way to take those lessons and use them at work.

‘Take the Long Way Home’. Another favourite Supertramp song. Now that we’re through the crisis, that’s the theme song that sums up our life. The stroke is just the beginning – now we’re into the rehabilitation phase and I expect that the long way home to full recovery will present us with many more opportunities to learn. And I’m looking forward to that.