That Darn Cat.

All too familiar.

Two am. Darn Sniff-The Cat. Grumbling, I pulled the box of cat food out of the cupboard, and noticing it was a new brand 'er indoors had bought, so I inclined my head to have a look at the ingredients.

Then that odd disconnected feeling crept through my mind, and it was, oh, bugger - hello floor.

Me and my mate floor are close acquaintances. Usually because it gets jealous - well, that's my theory. It hates me ignoring it. So it pulls me down for a cuddle. I get bruises on bit's and pieces you would not believe.

Dunno how long I was down there. Not long I guess, and I wasn't in any pain, which was a relief. Time and place didn't have any meaning really. While a tiny bit of me waited for friend-floor and the rest of me to reach some sort of agreement, I was quite happy to stare at the bottom of the kitchen plinth (darn it - I was sure I'd cleaned that bit !)

Somehow another part of me was observing an organised chaotic happy chaos, er..thingy, off 'over there' somewhere. If that doesn't make any sense to you, then join the club. A battle was being fought in a field of cotton wool somewhere nearby, and whoever it was seemed to be winning. Though I was vaguely annoyed that he/them was thrashing his left arm about. "He aught to be careful" I remember thinking "He's going to hurt someone - like me for instance, the pillock".

Ah - he's stopped. Perhaps I can get up now? Ta mate. Wonder who won?

Took me a little while before the empty space that seemed to have gathered, convulsed into some kind of order. Did I say it was familiar? Did didn't I. Righty Ho.

Went through a scrappy kinda checklist. Checked the bits of him/me I could see, and non of them had grown green, glowing or muscular, so it wasn't that then. That left flying, which I knew I could do anyway, with a bit of effort. So it was a case of grabbing the nearest drawer handle (up there somewhere) and doing the flip/twist/pull/fly than float back down onto my left foot, as I'd done before.

Success. My head followed a couple of minutes later. I think. Somehow During the flip/twist/pull/fly, I'd found myself leaning against the door frame to the living room. Trying to walk seemed a half-way decent idea. As I tried, it felt as if I was tipping over, so I'd lean the other way and find myself tipping sideways instead. Bugger.

I cannot over-exaggerate how unwell I felt. Tsk. Of course. Right side hadn't worked well before floor-cuddle 'cause of last time. And the time before that.

All of a sudden, I felt like there was a kind of space left in my head that wouldn't be filled, and wouldn't work again. I knew I wouldn't be able to speak if I tried, but then when I did try I found I could. Not that it made much sense. I was talking to myself anyhow. "First sign of losing it, Wheelie ol' son" I said. He was going to disagree, so I told him "Shut it!". Perhaps I was a little harsh.

My rational mind was saying: "You can do this" but my first reaction to anything, such as moving my right arm, was :- "I can't do this." But I could. Just about. It had felt for yonks like it belonged to someone else anyway. Same but worse. Left side was peachy, though.

That was a few days ago. The nausea wore off by the time I awoke. I'm exhausted, and That Darn Cat had to wait. Guess your first question would be "What did the medics say?"

I dunno. Didn't ask. I know what it was - it's happened before. I will, of course, drop them a line and let them know. All I have to do is point them here - I know the routine. It was a small stroke, and it's just not worth weeks in hospital and all that prodding and poking. And take it from one who knows, I'm already taking 19 tablets a day, and there's nothing more they can give me. It's down to me.

Unless someone out there knows of any new treatments available?

For you ordinary mortals - and if you'll forgive me for repeating myself :-

FAST

F - Facial Weakness
A - Arm weakness
S - Speech problems
T - Test all three.