
20 years ago, my dad had all 3 different kinds of strokes at the same time in the same spot near his brain stem.
After falling to the ground & puking, he crawled to a recliner in his bedroom.
He told my mom not to call 911, so she didnât. I was concerned whenever I came into the picture. It was a Sunday, so I was probably late to the game for sure, but after hearing what had happened, I was worried.
They waited TEN HOURS before I was in tears & had no clue what to do. My dad said he was fine, but couldnât say it clearly or get up out of his chair.
I called my sister who lived in Indy at the time for advice & after hanging up the phone, I told my mom I was calling an ambulance. I was used to defying my parentsâ wishes, but this time, I felt wrong or like I may not be doing the right thing because shit was getting real & I was so scared.
He should have died, times 3.
Instead, he spent 3 months in the ICU. My mom did the kid thing in the morning, went to work, made sure we were good, & spent the rest of her time at the hospital with my dad. She often went before we were up for school & was there well after I was already sleeping/passed out.
I was the only kid at home & I partied a lot. My parents gave me one of their credit cards to go get my dadâs weekly comic book order and deliver it to him & I maxed their card out on gas & clothes like an asshole. I did not fully comprehend what was going on & had no idea this would qualify as a traumatic event for my life until I was much older.
Then, my dad came home. They wouldnât let him chew his nicorette gum in the hospital. He had quit smoking cigarettes when I was 11, so, 5 years prior, which is almost comical (?) because when he quit, I started, but he chewed that gum every day between âquittingâ & his stroke.
He came out no longer addicted to nicotine. He started following doctorsâ orders & has tracked his exercise & eating (down to every last calorie/ounce) every day ever since. My mon & I often mention about how annoying it is when he interrupts a delicious meal to ask how many ounces of tomatoes are in it, but thinking about it now, itâs not annoying at all.
And TWENTY YEARS LATER, he is healthier than ever & still here. I could be remembering my dad on his 20 year deathaversary today, but instead, I get to congratulate him on his 20 year Strokaversary.
And for that, I feel incredibly blessed. â¤ď¸
Love your people FUCKING HARD.
Tell & Show then you love them Every Chance You Get.
Life is short, yâall.
Make the most of it.
MAKE GOOD CHOICES.

~Love & Light, Sarah