The Day That Changed My Life for Good

 

The Day That Changed My Life for Good

BANG! What was that?! Oh shit, that was the tube in my front tire. 

Thank God I was alone, so I didn’t offend anyone while I bitched out loud about my situation. That meant I had to walk my bike to my mother-in-law's trailer to Meadow Park off Conifer Street in north Corvallis, which was a good mile or two.

Little did I know that I wasn’t going to make it.

  

It was warm and sunny for the first Sunday of November. I made it across Walnut Avenue with no problem.

  

I took that opportunity to light up a cigarette. 

Little did I know it was going to be my last.

I had to hold my front tire up. Basically doing a wheelie while walking my bike on the sidewalk heading east past a huge apartment complex. 

As I was turning north onto a bike path, I noticed my right foot was slipping like I had stepped in oil. I stopped and didn’t feel anything slippery on my shoe, so I kept walking.

My foot kept slipping. 

My head was really confused by this phenomenon.

I did not know what was happening to my right foot, but I was almost to the end of the bike path where some kids were playing. I also noticed two college girls walking their two huskies behind me. 

I stopped, still feeling uneasy, and stood on the left side of my bike. I lost my strength on my right side and down I went. I fell over my bike and onto some river rocks. I noticed I didn’t feel any pain like I should have. 

The middle-schoolers must have thought I was drunk because they left to go get their parents.

The two college girls were right there, asking me if I was OK.

 

I tried to speak but I sounded like I was deaf. My tongue was not working! WTF! 

They started asking me yes and no questions like, “Do you need an ambulance?” “Do you think you're having a stroke?” 

I could only nod my head “yes.” 

I don’t know how I did it but I was able to speak clearly enough to have them call my youngest son, Josh, and my wife, Paige, about what was happening and to go to the hospital's emergency department. 

Now I have never ridden in an ambulance before, so it was kind of weird that I was excited. I never thought I was going to die and with my speech back I was able to communicate how I felt. 

They were saying that they thought I had a stroke. My inner voice kept saying that this couldn’t be happening to me. Sure, I was a 55-year-old smoker, but I rode my bike everywhere and was, I thought, in good shape. 

When I was laying there I looked down at my half-lit cigarette and said, “This is your fault.” I left it on the ground and I haven’t touched a cigarette since.  

The ambulance ride was short, maybe five minutes but that was enough of a ride to not want to do that again. I thanked them, I think, because that day is still a blur.

 

The medics brought me into the ambulance entrance of the ER. My wife and son were right there. I had just been given a clot buster medicine when she arrived.  

I fully recovered the feeling on my right side. I was able to reach up and put my hand on her face while saying “I love you.” 

This caused the nurses to start crying. I didn’t notice because my eyes were on my wife’s face. This recovery of my right-side happened three times, within the ten minutes after receiving the clot buster medication, before I lost the use of my right side for good. 

My wife and sons were there holding my hand. I could not believe what was happening to me. I just kept thinking to myself, “Will I ever be the same again?”