Day 61 - Emotionally Charged

The problem with only having to work 3 days a week, if there is a problem of course, is that while I am at home we become too close, and the routine of being together becomes too comfortable. When friday comes around we then have to deal with the wrench of being apart. Added to this cleo has become very emotional over the last few days; the slightest thing seems to play havoc with her emotions. So, when friday afternoon comes round cleo gets a bit stressed, and I feel powerless to help, because I have to go to work.

Today ended up with her in tears. She has admitted to me that of late she gets scared when she is alone. I am sure that this is a very natural reaction to the trauma that she has been through. It is very off-putting though, to see this strong woman, who was never afraid of anything, almost running scared of her own shadow. I do understand that these are effects which do happen as a result of stroke, and while I try to support cleo as best i can, sometimes I feel completely at a loss as to the best approach to take.

We had cleo's physio early today, and James spent most of the time working on hip and shoulder stability. Once the hip and shoulder are stable the muscle control becomes easier through both the arm, torso, and leg. This is no mean feat because much of this stabilising activity we don't even know that we are doing. It just happens. After a stroke the brain, which learned these actions when we were very young, has to find ways to compensate, and that is where the problem arises. cleo keeps saying she doesn't know how to do these things, and I can sympathise. We don't actually know, they just happen.

I feel for her so much because she is trying so hard to improve, and each day she makes a little progress, and then something happens that makes her feel that task ahead is almost insurmountable. I do not envy her one bit.

If I could change places with her then I would, without any hesitation.

On my way to work this evening i was thinking about the day the stroke happened. It is an awful thing to see someone you love reduced to a fraction of what they were in a matter of moments. I was reminded of the film "2001 A Space Oddyssey", when the computer Hal 9000 has the intelligence removed bit by bit, and its whole "being" goes through a regression from what it was to almost a childlike existence. That scene, if you know it, encapsulates the way a stroke (in my view at least) appears to affect a person. Now of course cleo has made huge strides in returning to what she had before, but it is frightening to witness, and painful for me to see that happen to the person who means most to me in all the world.

To my cleo: I love you, and will do anything in my power to help you get better. Whatever it takes, I will do. We are the best team there is, and our strength lies in our love for each other. Take that love and harness it, use it for whatever you need. I will be there, whether it takes a week, a month a year or the rest of our lives.