Stroke [strokh] n.
1. the act or an instance of striking, as with the fist, a weapon, or a hammer; a strong blow
2. something likened to a blow in its effect causing pain, injury or death
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Personally, I never really really thought about the meaning of 'stroke'... less the meaning of what a 'brain stroke' is and how it can change your life. In many ways, I can now understand why this type of brain injury can be called a stroke.
To be completely honest, I never really thought about how this has such an adverse effect on people until it happened to someone close to me... my dad. Only now can I understand the destructive force of a stroke. Even to this day, my family and I still feel the wake of such a traumatic and drawn out event.
My dad fell ill and was admitted to the hospital on November 16 and passed away a few months later on July 7, 2017.
I can never fully express what happened during the nine months my dad was hospitalized. One day he left and never came back. It was as if someone tore my father away from me and never giving me the opportunity to say good-bye. After a while, your life becomes one long horror story with no end in sight.
It was a typical Monday. My mom, dad, husband and I had just gotten back from a camping weekend the day before. It was a typical Monday but on this Monday... it was a special one; my brother was going to ask his long time girlfriend to marry him. Little did we know that the events set in motion on that day would send our family down a rabbit's hole of nightmares.
The plan to the ultimate proposal was quite simple... get ready and be there on time.
Time... we never have enough time.
Cold and unforgiving if you don't get your affairs straightened out in a 'timely' manner.
Play on words and ironic...
Needless to say... my dad did not make it to the proposal.
At that point, we had no idea what had happened or what was happening but a strange thing... he would have never missed his own son's proposal.
Guilt... now that's a serious word.
How can you be incandescently happy without knowing about the excruciating pain a loved one is going through at the same exact moment? Once you know... you can never forget. You question your existence, your surroundings, your feelings, the people around you... is this some plot to make me suffer and punish me for being selfish?
This, among other things, led to permanent brain damaged and eventually ended up in a vegetative-like state in which he could not speak, eat, drink, move around freely or express feelings of sadness or anger. My father had always expressed his fear of ending up in the condition he was now in. Some of the surgeries he was submitted to were long and drawn out processes and not to mention dangerous. His life was literally a ticking time bomb every time he went under the knife.
He had to have a tracheostomy, in which a tube is placed through the hole and directly into your windpipe to help you breathe. This limited the facilities in which my dad could be accepted to and was a constant battle to get him the best care in a location that was close to home. Of course, the facilities that would accept my father in his condition were more than an hour away and created a huge challenge since my brother and I work full time Monday-Friday and sometimes on Saturdays. There were months in which I was limited to seeing my father 2 to 4 times per month. I often felt guilty that I couldn't be there more for him but at the same time, I would dread the drive to go see him.
You see... I was used to seeing my dad differently. After being so long in the hospital, he had started contracting different viruses and bacterial infection in which could be passed along or harm those around him. I was limited to seeing my father in a surgical gown, a mask and gloves. I couldn't even kiss or touch my father without risking getting infected with what he had. There were moments in which I wished that my auto-immune disorders were non-existed just so I could touch my father once more and comb my fingers through his hair.
I was used to seeing a strong and funny man.
Seeing my father literally deteriorate from the inside-out scarred every aspect on my living soul. My father at the end lost more that 120 lbs since the day he arrived at the hospital. There were times in which I didn't ever recognize my own father. I was pretty close to my father... he wasn't just the man that was half of my genetic composition... as I got older, our likes and dislikes became very similar. His hobbies were my hobbies. His favorite music became my favorite music. His favorite sports team became my sports team. He was more than a father to me... he was also my friend.
The bible describes a similar friendship with Kind David and Jonathan. Jonathan was easily more that 40 years older than David, but the Bible mentions that their 'souls' were tied to each other. When Jonathan died, Kind David wept and felt the loss from deep within his being and never got over losing his friend. I guess you can say that life was tied to my father's life. The day that he was admitted to the hospital... my connection and bond was ripped at the seams beyond repair. The day he left home was the day my father died...
I would wake up in Nightmare cold sweats and sometimes to anxiety/ panic attacks in which I felt that my heart would burst out of my chest. My emotional pain matched to physical pain...
There would be moments in which I would scream and beat the walls of my house to help alleviate the visions of horror that I was exposed to. How can you live but not live? I would think about whether or not he could feel or see us and if he could... what was he thinking? What couldn't he say to us? There were many times in which I felt as if we had betrayed him by allowing him to continue in his state for so long. Even so... we always kept a straight face in front of my father and never let him see the sadness in which our hearts dwelled.
You obviously don't want to loose your loved one but the pain of watching someone you love suffer is far greater a pain I could ever bear.
My father survived his stroke but what came after was too much for him to tolerate.
His physical body was on auto-pilot and Hannibal was gone.
When we exactly lost him is still a mystery to me and will probably never know how or when Hannibal stopped being Hannibal but I do know one thing for sure... he was ready to go. He was too tired and prayed for a quick and painless slip into sleep.
When he finally did pass away... a weight was lifted and felt peace for the first time in a long time.
His funeral was beautiful... in total, there were approximately over 500 people present, not including the ones that had a second funeral in Mexico. I stopped and realized that there were literally hundreds of people that were touched by my father while he was living. Even when he was on his sick bed, he was an example of perseverance and faithfulness.
We divided my father's ashes in two parts.
One part was sent to Mexico to be buried with my grandmother just as he always wanted and the second part I took and scattered over El Capitan Meadows in Yosemite National Park... one of his favorite places. From the day he first discovered this one spot in particular, he was promised and swore that he would build his future home on that meadow. I guess you can say that his 'heart' was buried in Mexico.. the place of his childhood... and his sense of wonder and adventure at Yosemite. My second baby brother was also there at Yosemite the day we scattered his ashes but this time... it was his turn to ask his loved one to marry him... and Hannibal was there.
My father would be proud of his family despite the hardships that arose.
In a way... we are tempered glass... how?
You see, when making tempered glass, glass is melted and laid out in large sheets. These must go through an oven like machine that super heats the glass to over 2,000 degrees Fahrenheit! The glass sits in super-heated temperatures for a long time, pushing the limits of strength of the glass. Finally, the glass gets slowly pulled out and takes hours to completely cool. Once the glass has settled and has finished with the tempering process… not even a hammer at full force will shatter that glass.
No... our family grew closer and stronger and dominated over one of the most traumatic and stressful things a family could go through... the loss of a loved one... and that is something that Hannibal would be proud of.
To be completely honest, I never really thought about how this has such an adverse effect on people until it happened to someone close to me... my dad. Only now can I understand the destructive force of a stroke. Even to this day, my family and I still feel the wake of such a traumatic and drawn out event.
My dad fell ill and was admitted to the hospital on November 16 and passed away a few months later on July 7, 2017.
I can never fully express what happened during the nine months my dad was hospitalized. One day he left and never came back. It was as if someone tore my father away from me and never giving me the opportunity to say good-bye. After a while, your life becomes one long horror story with no end in sight.
THE STROKE
Nothing prepares you for a sudden change in your health.It was a typical Monday. My mom, dad, husband and I had just gotten back from a camping weekend the day before. It was a typical Monday but on this Monday... it was a special one; my brother was going to ask his long time girlfriend to marry him. Little did we know that the events set in motion on that day would send our family down a rabbit's hole of nightmares.
The plan to the ultimate proposal was quite simple... get ready and be there on time.
Time... we never have enough time.
Cold and unforgiving if you don't get your affairs straightened out in a 'timely' manner.
Play on words and ironic...
Needless to say... my dad did not make it to the proposal.
At that point, we had no idea what had happened or what was happening but a strange thing... he would have never missed his own son's proposal.
Guilt... now that's a serious word.
How can you be incandescently happy without knowing about the excruciating pain a loved one is going through at the same exact moment? Once you know... you can never forget. You question your existence, your surroundings, your feelings, the people around you... is this some plot to make me suffer and punish me for being selfish?
Truth is... it isn't. He just happened to be 1 of the 795,000 people that would suffer a stroke that year.
A plot against your family... no.
Long story short... this man... suffered through 3 days of pain before he decided that he needed to go to the hospital. Once we had gotten to the hospital, he began displaying the signs of a person that had suffered or was about to suffer a stroke. All the signs were there but a stroke... that was not on our minds. A heart attack maybe but not a stroke... Scans later reveled that my dad had two aneurysms and one of which had already burst and was draining blood inside the cavity that surrounded the brain and with every passing second created more and more pressure.
Three days... would it have made a difference if had gotten him help sooner? Maybe but then again maybe not and that's something that you will never know.
Mental torture...
My father later that day suffered a stroke. A Hemorrhagic Stroke to be exact.
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Hemorrhagic Stroke
Hemorrhagic stroke accounts for about 13 percent of stroke cases. It results from a weakened vessel that ruptures and bleeds into the surrounding brain. The blood accumulates and compresses the surrounding brain tissue. The two types of hemorrhagic strokes are intracerebral (within the brain) hemorrhage or subarachnoid hemorrhage. Hemorrhagic stroke occurs when a weakened blood vessel ruptures. An aneurysm is a ballooning of a weakened region of a blood vessel. If left untreated, the aneurysm weakens and ruptures and bleeds into the brain.
Use the following links to learn more.
Information is provided by the Stroke and Heart Association of America.
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Post Trauma
My father had to be submitted to several brain and related surgeries.This, among other things, led to permanent brain damaged and eventually ended up in a vegetative-like state in which he could not speak, eat, drink, move around freely or express feelings of sadness or anger. My father had always expressed his fear of ending up in the condition he was now in. Some of the surgeries he was submitted to were long and drawn out processes and not to mention dangerous. His life was literally a ticking time bomb every time he went under the knife.
He had to have a tracheostomy, in which a tube is placed through the hole and directly into your windpipe to help you breathe. This limited the facilities in which my dad could be accepted to and was a constant battle to get him the best care in a location that was close to home. Of course, the facilities that would accept my father in his condition were more than an hour away and created a huge challenge since my brother and I work full time Monday-Friday and sometimes on Saturdays. There were months in which I was limited to seeing my father 2 to 4 times per month. I often felt guilty that I couldn't be there more for him but at the same time, I would dread the drive to go see him.
You see... I was used to seeing my dad differently. After being so long in the hospital, he had started contracting different viruses and bacterial infection in which could be passed along or harm those around him. I was limited to seeing my father in a surgical gown, a mask and gloves. I couldn't even kiss or touch my father without risking getting infected with what he had. There were moments in which I wished that my auto-immune disorders were non-existed just so I could touch my father once more and comb my fingers through his hair.
I was used to seeing a strong and funny man.
Seeing my father literally deteriorate from the inside-out scarred every aspect on my living soul. My father at the end lost more that 120 lbs since the day he arrived at the hospital. There were times in which I didn't ever recognize my own father. I was pretty close to my father... he wasn't just the man that was half of my genetic composition... as I got older, our likes and dislikes became very similar. His hobbies were my hobbies. His favorite music became my favorite music. His favorite sports team became my sports team. He was more than a father to me... he was also my friend.
The bible describes a similar friendship with Kind David and Jonathan. Jonathan was easily more that 40 years older than David, but the Bible mentions that their 'souls' were tied to each other. When Jonathan died, Kind David wept and felt the loss from deep within his being and never got over losing his friend. I guess you can say that life was tied to my father's life. The day that he was admitted to the hospital... my connection and bond was ripped at the seams beyond repair. The day he left home was the day my father died...
I would wake up in Nightmare cold sweats and sometimes to anxiety/ panic attacks in which I felt that my heart would burst out of my chest. My emotional pain matched to physical pain...
There would be moments in which I would scream and beat the walls of my house to help alleviate the visions of horror that I was exposed to. How can you live but not live? I would think about whether or not he could feel or see us and if he could... what was he thinking? What couldn't he say to us? There were many times in which I felt as if we had betrayed him by allowing him to continue in his state for so long. Even so... we always kept a straight face in front of my father and never let him see the sadness in which our hearts dwelled.
You obviously don't want to loose your loved one but the pain of watching someone you love suffer is far greater a pain I could ever bear.
My father survived his stroke but what came after was too much for him to tolerate.
His physical body was on auto-pilot and Hannibal was gone.
When we exactly lost him is still a mystery to me and will probably never know how or when Hannibal stopped being Hannibal but I do know one thing for sure... he was ready to go. He was too tired and prayed for a quick and painless slip into sleep.
When he finally did pass away... a weight was lifted and felt peace for the first time in a long time.
His funeral was beautiful... in total, there were approximately over 500 people present, not including the ones that had a second funeral in Mexico. I stopped and realized that there were literally hundreds of people that were touched by my father while he was living. Even when he was on his sick bed, he was an example of perseverance and faithfulness.
We divided my father's ashes in two parts.
One part was sent to Mexico to be buried with my grandmother just as he always wanted and the second part I took and scattered over El Capitan Meadows in Yosemite National Park... one of his favorite places. From the day he first discovered this one spot in particular, he was promised and swore that he would build his future home on that meadow. I guess you can say that his 'heart' was buried in Mexico.. the place of his childhood... and his sense of wonder and adventure at Yosemite. My second baby brother was also there at Yosemite the day we scattered his ashes but this time... it was his turn to ask his loved one to marry him... and Hannibal was there.
My father would be proud of his family despite the hardships that arose.
In a way... we are tempered glass... how?
You see, when making tempered glass, glass is melted and laid out in large sheets. These must go through an oven like machine that super heats the glass to over 2,000 degrees Fahrenheit! The glass sits in super-heated temperatures for a long time, pushing the limits of strength of the glass. Finally, the glass gets slowly pulled out and takes hours to completely cool. Once the glass has settled and has finished with the tempering process… not even a hammer at full force will shatter that glass.
No... our family grew closer and stronger and dominated over one of the most traumatic and stressful things a family could go through... the loss of a loved one... and that is something that Hannibal would be proud of.
Learn The Signs Of A Stroke
When suffering from a stroke every minute counts. More brain cells are lost every minute a stroke goes untreated because blood flow is being restricted and blocked from the brain. The quicker the victim is able to seek medical assistance the less damage their speech, memory, and movement will suffer. The stroke symptoms typically develop quickly but can become apparent over hours or in rare cases even days.
You must be FAST!
Sometimes other symptoms appear, separately, in combination or with F.A.S.T. signs
Sudden confusion, trouble speaking or understanding speech.
Sudden numbness or weakness of face, arm or leg. Especially on one side of the body.
Sudden trouble seeing in one or both eyes.
Sudden trouble walking, dizziness, loss of balance or coordination.
Sudden severe headache with no known cause.
For more information on how to identify the signs of a stroke, go
How You Can Help
A family member or friend going through the effects of a Stroke are life changing but there are things you can do to make them feel better or help through a hard situation:
1) Keep in touch... the worst thing you can do and assume is that the family wants to be left alone during trying times. Even if it's a simple text message or call... keep in touch!
2) Food... hospital stays can be exhausting and some families can go days without eating
3) Gift cards and small cash donations. Some families stop working and sometimes need a little economic support. Every dollar counts and adds up quickly.
4) Offering transportation to and from the hospital or care facilities.
Other than the cost of gas adding up... families often need to deal with emotional moments that inhibits being able to drive safely to and from home.
5) Care packages... cash donations, shampoo, fresh socks and maybe a toothbrush and toothpaste. Sometimes during long hospitals stays, people tend to forget to tend their basic needs.
6) When visiting a stroke patient, compliance of the family's wishes is a big deal especially if the y ask you to wear a mask, wash your hands or not even touch their loved one. This is not only beneficial to the the well being of the patient and the family but to yourself.
7) Have compassion and be patient.
We tend to loose your patience with the family whose loved one is in the hospital due to added stress and sometimes harsh words from the family or spouse. The last thing the family needs is worrying about gossip or mistreatment from those around them. The family will be on edge and might say or do things yo do not like but remember... what would you do in that was our family member on a hospital bed?
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Father, you were our example of faith! You lived life showing respect, truth, honesty, integrity and passion. Even in you sick bed, you were a positive influence and left in others footprints of hope, encouragement and inspiration. More importantly, you stood up for what you believed in and what is right. You showed everyone that you truly loved God with every fragment of your being. (Luke 10:27)
See you soon Capitán...
#JacquesIsStrong
Our family has hope to see my father once again in the future... when and how?
Visit jw.org for more information and feel free to follow the following link to read a message of hope.
Visit the American Heart Association for more information about Strokes.
