Part Two: The Call.
On my second week back to work, my husband was feeding Layla and I was packing our shoes which were placed underneath our bed in a storage bag, and I collapsed. I felt a sharp pain in my jaw and cheek bone and I was paralyzed from head to toe. My husband realized how quiet it was from the living room and wondered if I had gone to sleep. He was looking for me and found me on the other side by the bed, on the floor and told me that I shouldn’t rest on the floor, I should lay on the bed. I realized I didn’t know how to speak. I was not able to articulate words clearly, my words were gibberish, my eyes were not able to focus anywhere. It felt like hours had passed before I could say three important words: baby, stroke and 911. My husband made the call.
The ambulance arrived, they took me alone to the hospital and while everything was happening in a blur, I was trying to stay awake and conscious through it all. In the ambulance, which I had never been inside one in my entire life, the paramedics were so kind. Three gentlemen, asking me how I was doing, placing a blanket on me since I couldn’t stop shaking, I was in my pajamas and missing a shoe and I honestly felt and looked my worst, but it didn’t even matter, they were supportive through it all. I just kept thinking, “was I going to be able to move or talk again?”.
We arrived at the hospital, a whole team was waiting for me. Imagine, a 26 year old female with no previous health issues, other than gestational hypertension, with blood pressure as high as I had it, with stroke like symptoms, four months postpartum; it was a lot to consider.
They placed me into an MRI machine and I was petrified. I kept trying to say my daughter’s name out loud. I kept mouthing her name “Layla”, even when no sound that I meant to make, came out. I was not saying “Layla” out loud, only mumbling and although in my mind, I was saying it as clear as day, It felt like hours of not being able to speak clearly.
I was in the MRI for a matter of minutes, but it felt like time passed slowly, like everything was delayed. All I could hear was the buzzing from the machine and I recall being extremely cold. But I shifted my focus on saying her name and it was starting to sound clearer each time after. I kept repeating it. I was focused on my baby.
She brought me back.
I went home that evening. I fell asleep after being given Xanax and the morning after, I woke up speaking the same. Slurred speech, my eyes were drifting and I could barely get off from the bed. The ambulance took me away again, I was at the hospital, undergoing the same tests I went through the night before. And after hours of not being able to speak, my husband was able to go inside the hospital with me and the team of neurologists said that my symptoms were very much real but nothing is being shown in the MRI that indicate I have suffered a stroke. They mentioned that all my symptoms were psychologically induced, hence why I was given Xanax the day prior.
We went home after two nights of chaos, for my husband, my mom, sister, mother in law and me. Now, I needed to try and find a neurologist as soon as possible, to try to figure out why I was going through this. I just wanted to get better. Be myself again.
After seeing a neurologist, months later, I’d be diagnosed with what is called experiencing pseudo seizures. In the medical field, it’s not really talked about, as mental health is still stigmatized. As I did more research, it just became the fuel I needed to come forward with my condition; to bring awareness to mental health and personal well being.
Medication may be helpful, maybe as a temporary resort, especially in regards to my case. I knew I needed to do more underlining work. I also did not settle for medication only. I definitely did not go for the Xanax I was prescribed after the first time they gave it to me, since I am still a mother to a baby who needed to be fed in the middle of night and also, I just didn’t accept medication as my only option. So during the time I was recovering, I did some major construction on myself and worked towards a happier version of me.
I still experience them every now and then, the seizures. Especially when I am too overwhelmed or simply because I am exhausted or on overdrive. I actually experienced one the day my husband got into a car accident on my first month back to work (for the second time). It was also the same week, that would be what I’d call the last few days of my career (I’ll leave this for another post). Sometimes the seizures may last for more than 20 minutes and it honestly feels like an eternity. Until it passes, I can’t speak, move, my body tenses up and my bones and body ache. It’s horrible and terrifying all at the same time.
The six months I spent on recovering, I learned more about myself than I ever did in my 27 years of life. I changed into a whole new person and understood why my center needed to be established. I learned that circumstantial situations should not, ever tarnish my peace. I experienced an epiphany: the life I yearned, the life I wanted for my daughter and the person I wanted to become. I learned a quote recently: “You’re new life will cost you your old one”- Jay Shetty. It couldn’t be more accurate and relevant to my life at the moment.
My body went into total shock, from everything I was experiencing, to the changes I was undergoing, to becoming this stranger I’ve just met and yet it has highlighted the most important things in my life. What I needed to change. Going back to trauma, going back to touching beneath the surface of the scars I never healed. Learning from mistakes and not just moving on and forgetting things or people who once were in my life, but finally closing chapters.
This is where the Frozen movies come into play. Many years after it’s release, I finally watch the sequel to Frozen for the first time, my daughter had just turned six months. I have a subscription to Disney Plus, so I decided I should watch something new and different from the old replays I would put for Layla, just so I could sing along. And when I watched the second part, it just stuck with me. I was discovering who I was. I was finding my truth. It’s like the movie felt like a life experience I just went through. Close to the finale of the movie, Anna has just lost her sister Elsa and Olaf, I don’t want to ruin the movie for you if you haven’t seen it, but the song, “The next right thing”, it asks the question: how to rise from the floor? I’m going to answer this one for you, only you can pick yourself up.
The next right thing for me was to leave the broken pieces behind and welcome the newer and brighter additions to my story, and to embrace the changes, regardless of where it was taking me.
