NOTE: This dang post has been two weeks in the making. I have the attention span of a flea, so it’s been tough when I sit down, because I write, then suddenly I’m down some rabbit hole about black holes or some other nonsense. Anyway, enjoy today’s product!

In 2016, I was clobbered with two major health issues.

The first, in May 2016, I was diagnosed with testicular cancer, one of the “easiest” cancers to work through. There was a surgery, lot of chest x-rays, MRIs, blood work, but in the end, clear scans. I had four different oncologists in 10 years, and eventually, kind of got lost in the system. A health scare for sure, but one I learned from, working to make myself healthier.

However, in October of that same year, I had a TIA (mini-stroke), then, another actual stroke. I took a nap on a Friday afternoon, and woke up unable to form words. My wife had called, and I was speaking in gibberish. By the time she got home, I had recovered my speech and was fine. I talked her down, and we went on. The next day, driving back from a dance completition, the same thing happened. I had to pull over to let her drive. We got home, and she called the emergency room, and to this day, I will not forgive the ER nurse who told my wife it was, “no big deal” and to “just monitor things”. It was a big deal. I called my doctor the next day, was seen the day after that, had a CAT scan, and met with a neorologist (with the bedside manner of an angry shell fish) who said on his way out the room, “Oh yes, you had a stroke,” and just left. We were both in shock, and got talked down by the nurse who came in to talk with us. She showed us the same scan, and sure enough, there’s a teeny, tiny little spot on my brain that is a totally different color than the rest of my brain.

I didn’t lose many of the things that stroke victims lose. I’m still able to walk, talk, and do the things I was able to do before this happened.

But a couple of things did change. First, my ability to read out loud. I love to read to my students. I am still a good reader, but I have to preview text in order to make it work right. If I just cold read something, I stumble over words all over the place. I read to my student out of our literacy series, and if I didn’t preview, I have minor difficulties. I’ve been up front and honest with my students about this because many of them are ELL students, embarrassed to read in front of the class. Having someone of understands that fear of missing words is helping to them.

Second, I just get stuck with words. I’ll make up something for raspberries because that word got stuck in my brain (little red berries who seeds get stuck in your teeth). Again, not a big deal, but this one drives my wife nuts because I’ll be going on and the pause, trying to find a word.

The reason for this blog today, my emotions. I’ve always been a sucker for sappy commercials, but after my stroke, geez, you’d think that I cry at the drop of a hat. My wife teases me because emotional scenes in action movies will get a tear or two.

I was home two weeks ago, recovering from an umbilical hernia surgery. I’m healing and took very good care of myself, so the pain was manageable, so no heavy lifting or being dumb with stuff outside (so my wife says). She described, in detail, what happens to cloth when stitches ripped, then said, “Now, imagine that is your skin”. Did I mention she has an English degree with an amazing vocabulary? Yeah, ick, I was well-behaved during my time off.

I took the opportunity to watch the first season of Picard, a spin off of Star Trek: The Next Generation.

Yes, nerd alert.

So we get to the end of the first season, and Captain Jean-Luc Picard, survivor of the Borg, captain in countless battles, dies. There are tears STREAMING down my face as those on the ship come to him, crying for the friend, captain, and partner they have all lost. SPOILER: He doesn’t actually die because there are two more seasons, and how he’s revived is pretty awesome! 🙂

I mean I was CRYING and I’m 99% certain that it’s the damn stroke talking.

Cue any number of seasons in Ted Lasso. My wife looks over at me and smiles, because I have tears.

Cue the freaking TikTok I watched this morning with the “Ten Most Emotional Performances at the Kennedy Center” (FYI: number 10 should have been number 1). Tears streaming, both for the performances AND for the fact that kinds of performances aren’t happening because of our current administration.

I had cancer and a stroke, and came out on the other side feeling pretty good. My only side effect: my tears.

I count myself lucky, but dang, don’t be sitting next to me during a sad commercial! I might get tears on your shirt! 🙂