My stroke: the admission

They took me to the same emergency room where I had been for the heart attack. As soon as I arrived, they immediately did the basic tests: speaking, raising my arms for an immediate initial assessment. Then they took me straight into that machine where you put your head to check the brain – the CT scan (Computed Tomography).

They did various tests and admitted me immediately. They gave me medication right away but didn't explain anything: they knew that in those conditions I wouldn't understand or would forget. I looked around but didn't understand much; I wasn't aggressive, I was there and I knew I had to be there.

The person who had accompanied me went to my home to get me some hospital clothes after talking to the doctors. I slept until the next morning, except when they inserted the IVs, gave me medication, or checked my blood pressure.

I saw people in the beds next to me: people destroyed. And I started to worry. It wasn't the fear of dying, it was the awareness that I could become a vegetable and that those around me – my family, my friends – would pay the price. Not me, but them. And this didn't seem right to me.

After 2 days I felt something in my throat. It was the beginning of my aphasia. I don't know exactly what it was, but it was as if I didn't have enough strength to speak: I couldn't manage my vocal cords and breath well. The words came out weak, confused.

They kept me in the hospital for 5-6 days. The only thing they could do was dissolve any possible blood clots and thin the blood: they couldn't do anything else. As with the heart attack, they gave me statins, blood thinners, and anticoagulants. This time I never questioned whether to take them or not: I just took them, hoping that those close to me wouldn't have problems because of me.

⚠️ Warning
This is my personal experience. I am not a doctor. Each person can have different symptoms and treatments. If you have suspicious symptoms, immediately call 118 or go to the emergency room. Every minute counts.