Seeing A Stroke

Many years ago, perhaps around 2003, I went to interview an older woman named Emily. She was in charge of the local historic society and ran the museum.

I had worked for her about 15 years prior, spending time at the museum cataloging items. She and I had a falling out because I wanted to set up a database on the computer for the items; she wanted everything written on a yellow legal pad. I threw up my hands and quit; it was a part-time job, and I could do without the hassle. 

She didn't speak to me for years after that. I became involved in a different historic society and perhaps that helped her come around.

Anyway, since we were on speaking terms again, I went to Emily's house to interview her for the newspaper about changes in the museum (which by now was computerized, etc.) and her efforts to catalogue every school that once existed in the county.

She greeted me cordially and offered me a glass of tea. I admired her house, which was one of the older ones in town, and then proceeded to move on with the interview, asking pertinent questions about what the historical group was doing, her research, etc.

Suddenly, she began slurring her words. She looked funny to me as well, almost like she was drunk and falling over. I stopped the interview and asked her if she was ok.

She said she was diabetic and probably needed some orange juice; would I get her a glass out of the refrigerator?

This I promptly did, and then waited anxiously while she drank it.

My grandmother was diabetic and had what she called "sugar drops," but they were nothing like this. This did not seem to me to be a diabetic issue. This was scary, whatever was going on.

However, I am not a qualified health care person. When I suggested that I should take her to the doctor, who at that time was about four blocks away, she grew angry. She told me the interview was over and I should leave.

Having been tossed out of the house, there was nothing I could do but go. However, I came home and called the only people I knew who were related to her and left a message on their answering machine asking if they could check on her.

They never called me back, so the next morning I called Emily to see if she alright. I was quite anxious about her.

She told me that after I'd left, she'd driven herself to the doctor who thought she'd had a TIA.

A TIA is a transient ischemic attack, also known as a mini-stroke.

I'd never witnessed anyone having a stroke, and while I had some clue as to what to look for, having it happen in front of me was terrifying.

There are more than 200,000 TIAs in the United States annually, so this happens a lot.

The symptoms include:

• Slurred speech and difficulty in understanding others
• Vision problems
• Weakness, numbness or paralysis on one side of the body
• Loss of balance
• Dizziness
• Sudden and severe headache

She experienced the slurred speech and loss of balance. I'm not sure about the other symptoms but those I could see for myself.

I don't know why, but for some reason I woke up with this on my mind, so I thought I'd write about it. I hadn't thought about this person, who died long ago, or this interview, in many years but it was on my brain first thing this morning.