Tragedy Can Strike Suddenly, Swiftly—and Sooner Than You Think

It wasn't supposed to happen. Not this soon. We're far fitter than our parents were at the same age. We exercise more, eat better, have more sex (okay, some of us do), and we believe our 50s are the new, hell, the new 30s! So it just wasn't supposed to happen.

But it did. One still dark, early morning last October, my wife rose from the bed feeling "something," she told me months later. In a few moments she was on the floor, suddenly paralyzed, unable to speak and consciously unconscious (awake but with no recollection of anything after getting out of the bed) because a blood clot was blocking oxygen to the left side of her brain.

She was suffering a massive stroke.

My wife was 52 years old, and she possessed none of the traits that would have made her predisposed to having a stroke. She was not obese. Cholesterol was normal. No high blood pressure. Nothing.

A catastrophic illness wasn't supposed to happen. Not yet. But it did. And it changed our lives.

That moment she suffered the stroke is eight months behind us but its images and emotions are as vivid to me and our children (two teenagers: a son, 16, and daughter, 13) as if they were playing out on the HD flat screen in our kitchen.

My wife is home now, light years better than she was then and the weeks that followed. She underwent a radical brain procedure and initially we did not know if she would suffer a severe setback. She could not speak for days, and did not know my name (she kept calling me Cliff, who is one of her brothers) for more than a week. I recall the day when a physical therapist came by her hospital room and needed two other people to help her "walk," which essentially meant one aide holding her upright as the therapist and another aide, each holding a leg, moved them forward separately.

Now she walks with a cane (and doesn't need it as much as she thinks she does), dresses herself, showers, brushes her teeth, and puts on makeup; and navigate stairs, gets in and out of cars, eats without help (other than needing me to cut up steaks, chicken breasts, etc., which she absolutely hates for me to do), folds clothes…you get the idea.

And all this though she still has no use of her right arm or hand.

She's generally her feisty (read: stubborn) self, too. Though there are days when I can tell she's also thinking that this wasn't supposed to happen. On the day before the stroke she was a healthy, working woman who loved her job in executive search and genuinely liked her co-workers. She served on the board of the local library and as a deaconess in our church. She was a swim/soccer mom who liked to bike with friends on the weekend.

Now her outings largely consist of trips to rehabilitative therapies, an occasional lunch with a friend–and sneak trips to McDonald's with the caretaker.

Her biggest frustration is not being able to say what she knows she wants to say because she still suffers from aphasia. Translation: I've learned that the brain is like a file cabinet. With aphasia, the drawers get stuck. The information is in there; it just can't get out.

My biggest frustration? Glad you asked. Most people don't.

How's Barbara? I probably hear the question a dozen times a day. "Coming along," I say. "Coming along. Thanks for asking."

How are you? Not so much. Thankfully, I have close friends who understand that most people care little for the caregivers, the healthy spouse who must now not only manage the care of their stricken loved one but also begin to handle all those once-shared "to-dos" in their lives.

Our faith, family, and friends have gotten us through.

I have been truly blessed by a "village" of friends and co-workers, people who cooked meals, cleaned our home, bought groceries, ran errands, shuttled our kids, and even left their homes in their house shoes when I called to say I was stuck somewhere and couldn't pick up one of our kids from some practice or another.

Being a writer I also found my own therapy in sharing our journey on a wonderful site called Caring Bridge (www.caringbride.org). It was created to allow people who suffer catastrophic illnesses to update everyone easily and efficiently. Each time I create a post, it's automatically sent to hundreds of people who signed up.

In the days immediately after the stroke, when my cell phone rang incessantly, the site saved me from having to say the same thing over and over an over again. It still does. (You can find my wife's site Here).

So it wasn't supposed to happen but it does. You've probably heard the data, but ignored it. (Likely because you heard it from someone trying to sell you disability insurance.) But this is our reality:

• Nearly one in three people between 35-65 will suffer a disability for at least 90 days; 1 in 7 will be disabled at least 5 years.
• If you're 40, you face only a 14% chance of dying but a 21% chance of being disabled.
• Some estimates say nearly half of us over 40 (43%) will suffer a long-term disability before turning 65.

The lesson: if you don't have disability insurance, get it. And obtain enough to replace all of your income, which likely means obtaining more than your employer offers. Not having it on my wife is one of our biggest regrets.

No, this wasn't supposed to happen. But that it did means it happens to many others. And only through preparation, strength, and faith in others can we endure.

To help keep you and your family healthy, know the signs of stroke.