On sept.22 of 06 I was in a cabin in the sequoia national forest with my wife, Martha. At about 6:30 am – I must have kept my watch on and glanced at it for I distinctly remember the time. I noticed my left arm and leg felt strangely heavy. So heavy I could not lift either limb. I sat up in bed and decided I was going to try to walk it off; I easily sat up on the bed, took one step and fell face first to the floor. Somehow Martha was able to get me up off the floor and sit me on the bed. Of course I still did not feel well as at that moment I was having a massive stroke though I didn’t know it at the time. And so it was that one beautiful morning in a setting so beautiful even today it takes my breath away, that ultimate thing of mystery, death, came to me as I was lying in my bed next to my wife. I obviously didn’t die. I lived! I live today! But I was in that realm teetering between life and death, yet aware and curious about everything around me and what was happening to me. Was I dying? Is this what death felt like? I recall the sunlight streaming in through the window hurting my eyes, so I turned my head to look away. The stroke had not yet affected my vision.
the photos above are me in my prime; riding my motorbike and working it as a community organizer.
Trying to make sense of it I recalled my 3 hour hike of the day before. I had been trying to reach the Kern River by clamboring over a ridge and following a stream that snaked its’ way towards the river which I could just see in the distance – a slender strip of water glistening below. And so I crossed the stream many times and scampered over and around rocks and boulders the size of cars. It finally became clear to me I had totally misjudged the distance and was still hours away from reaching the river and so I turned back to return to the cabin not having any desire to hike in the dark.
Without knowing it I must have injured my left leg which was why I was unable to move it I reasoned. But what about my left armWhat other possible explanation could there be? The horrific headache I had was a real concern to me so unlike any I had ever experienced before or since. I knew I was in serious trouble, probably dying but had the presence of mind to wake Martha as I made a conscience effort to raise my head and look around, in so doing I wafted a silent goodbye to the world. Death had come for me that morning or so I believed. That effort is my last memory of that fateful morning. I obviously did not die but that day I had absolutely no inkling of how my life would irrevocably change or the trials which lay ahead.
Though I felt at deaths door, I recall a conscience effort to pull back, away from oblivion as I did not want to die, who does? Today I wonder if that was simply a reaction or did I really realize the danger and therefore made the effort to live.At the same time I had a great curiosity about death. I took mental stock of myself. I was losing my vision, had lost the ability to speak. Again I tried to walk and again I fell. Martha somehow got me off the floor, again. Later she confessed it was pure adrenaline kicking in, like the stories we have heard of people finding superhuman strength at times of great crisis, of which this was undoubtedly one. 3 times I went down and 3 times Martha got me up off the floor.
At that point I remember Martha screaming at me “Sal, you’re having a stroke, you're having a stroke she kept repeating. I wanted to tell her;
“Martha, you’re one foot away from me, no need to scream, but the words would not come out. Later when I asked her how she knew I was having a stroke. She reminded me that she had seen her father have a series of strokes until he passed away from one as did my dad. Stroke is the 3
rd leading cause of death in the United States behind heart disease and cancer. She told me I had all the classic symptoms she had seen before . – drooling at the mouth, slurred speech, my face contorted, an inability to maintain balance, unable to lift a limb, etc.... she finally left me on the floor with a pillow and a blanket and went off to get help. Lying on that wooden floor under a blanket I tried in vain to make sense of my situation. Why couldn’t I move my left side? Unable to move I felt incredibly vulnerable like a molting crustacean. Lying on that cold floor I could smell the pungent scent of early morning campfires in the air. It seemed amazing to me that the people of the mountain could be carrying on with their normal day: preparing breakfast, planning the day’s activities, while I was immobilized in a most unnatural predicament.
Martha got to the security office who then radioed emergency services. When she got back to the cabin there just happened to be a young man walking by and she got him to come into the cabin, help me off the floor and into our car. He did us a great favor as I don’t see how we could have done it without help. I do not recall his name but later I said a prayer of thanks for him. By then we were informed that the ambulance was coming up the mountain. Instead of waiting we decided to meet them half ways. And so we did. I remember I was slouched over in the front passenger seat as Martha was driving down the mountain but insisting to Martha that I could and should drive. She didn’t answer me; she just leaned over and gave me a push so I wouldn’t slouch so much. We met the ambulance half way down the mountain. At that point my head, left arm and leg was throbbing with the most intense pain I had ever experienced. At any moment I thought my head was going to explode. It is clear to me now that I went into shock and so my memory of those events today is not good. They took me first to a small clinic in Lake Isabella and then to Mercy hospital in Bakersfield where I stayed in I.C.U. for one week and a half. Then I was transported by ambulance to the Good Samaritan Hospital in Los Angeles where I stayed for 4 months Thank God for health insurance. We all should have it. Many of you visited me there though I have but little recollection of your visits. I would say to Martha, "hey so and so hasn’t visited me" and Martha would say yes he/she did when you were in ICU but that period is truly a hazy time for me now, what with the pain and the morphine injections I was receiving. I just don’t have a lot of memory of my initial hospital stay.
At the Good Samaritan I came into contact with good doctors some of whom I continue to consult with to this day and to very professional physical and occupational therapists involved with my physical rehabilitation who soon got me back on my feet and with whom I took my first tenuous steps leading to my eventual ability to walk again.
“The body is silent but the spirit stirs” …Bill Hamelau.
After a few days in the hospital I inexplicably developed blood clots in each of my four limbs. The doctors would gather at the foot of my bed whispering to themselves but they couldn't figure out what was causing the clots or what had caused the stroke in the first place as I had never had high blood pressure or a bad cholesterol count. In fact I was in very good physical condition having run the LA marathon in 2002 and again in 2003 and was training for my 3rd marathon.
They finally decided to perform a DNA test, the results of which showed I had something called “ factor 5 Leiden”, a hereditary condition whereby the blood in my body is predisposed to clot. Now I take blood thinner medication to prevent clotting and will do so for life.
My right carotid artery which supplies oxygenated blood to the brain became completely blocked due to a large clot that lodged there. The cells in the right side of my brain lacking the oxygen the brain requires began to die, severing the neuron connections from my brain to the left side of my body.
I ended up not being able to return to work as a Special Education classroom teacher opting instead to take an early disability retirement. I had to stop most of my community organizing work that was just beginningto show good results in Bell, Maywood and Cudahy, the southeastern portion of LA County. This work is chronicled in a book by Jeffrey Stout: Blessed are the Organized, in which some of my exploits are mentioned.I recall the words of the bard Robert burns - the best laid plans of mice and men go often askew. Stay tuned for chapter two – Left field neglect.
The final chapter of this story is not yet written as I continue to work on my rehabilitation through a process of hard work and therapy. It has been an arduous process of reinventing myself and certainly the most difficult experience of my life. Your comments are appreciated.
