We all have a few mountains to climb throughout life.  Now, for me at least, I have but one or two more hills to go.  A series of "Brain Attacks" which are called strokes is taking its toll so I, more than most, will have to remember that "Death is Mother Nature's way of telling us to slow down."

THE FIRST STROKE:

    A mini affair, so minor I didn't know I had it.  I either slept through it, or it was just a day I wasn't feeling too well.  The brain damage caused was even picked up until later brain scans.  Two or three years of sporadic headaches knocked down by good old Tylenol (R).  Hey, I'm a man.  I can take it.  No pain -- no gain.  Right?

THE SECOND STROKE:

    A boy never grows up -- his toys just get more expensive.   While playing "Decent II" on this very computer I'm typing one handed (left) now that the right arm and hand are more or less ballast; I start smashing my spaceship into the walls of the underground tunnels.  I'm cursing the joystick one more time for being out of calibration.  Finally I give up and go to bed.  I'm not feeling all that hot anyway and motion sickness can be caused by video games.

    Around two o'clock in the morning it's time for one of those trips, but I took another kind.  The right leg takes off on its own and try as I might I can't control my right arm or hand.  But someone gave me two so I was able to make it out to my attach� case and my Red Book.  Since I wasn't going to make it into class, I had to call the vice principal's answering service, and take my Red Book to the hospital with me.  The only thing was that my speech was so slurred I was afraid City Cab would think I was drunk and wouldn't come out the 8 klms out of town to get me.   Ambulances cost more than cabs, and Hell I could drive a 94 tonne tank when I was 17.

    I couldn't tell the dispatcher my phone number.  It was all I could do to remember who I was.  Bless his heart, he was a Newfoundlander, and he turned the radio over to someone else and he came out and got me in his own station wagon.   He helped me into the vehicle, took me and my stuff and off to emergency.

    Two weeks later I was back up to 35 wpm, still down from 76, but the joystick worked. Can we type HIGH BLOOD PRESSURE boys and girls.  Smoke? Never did.   Drink?  Two ounces every five years.  Fat Charley?  18 lbs. heavier than at age 18.  What then?  Best guess -- hypertension and THICK BLOOD, big time.  One little fly in the ointment -- the arteries and veins in the brain are getting thinner and weaker.  Eventually normal blood pressure will take me out.

THE THIRD STROKE:

    Fourteen months later after a period of violent coughing due to medication side effects of Ticlid (R) and two other medication (still being taken) I woke up again about 2 a.m. only this time absolutely no movement on the right side.  A taxi wouldn't do it this time.  Macho be dammed, how do I get down onto the floor without hurting myself?  Again the Red Book, crawl out to the phone in the living room, the phone calls and this time an ambulance.

    I'm ashamed to admit that I ridiculed that "I've Fallen, And I Can't Get Up" television commercial so many times to my classes.  This will be my first winter with a cane and I dread the coming ice.  Of course I have a cellular within reach 24 hours a day and if you've been to my "Lost Love" page you know I sleep alone "With The Phone."

So what about the bottom line?   The Green Stuff? Check Out "The Good."

Last Updated 29/04/2000 16:53:52 -0230