Peace

“There is peace, even in the storm.” Vincent Van Gogh

Having a stroke is anything but peaceful.

It’s more like organized chaos.

Your brain is frantic, trying to reconnect itself and you to everything. And you are powerless to help it.

Your body is on a roller coaster ride from hell. The one that has more twists and turns than a mountain highway in Europe that I've seen pictures of.

You want to get off, make it stop, something, but you can’t.

You have to wait until the ride stops. And that isn’t going to happen in five minutes. Or five days. It feels endless.

When it all finally stops, it is quieter than you can even imagine.

You can hear your heart beating, and your breathing is so calm.  That’s how it felt to me, waking up in the ICU. There were people, and machines, and all of the hospital sounds— it almost seemed like I had headphones on.

I don’t know if it was part of my stroke or what it was.

Then the nurses started talking to me, and it got louder again.

I could hear the sound of my voice answering their questions, and that gave me peace somehow.

During my stroke, I knew what I wanted to say, but the 911 operator and EMTs couldn’t understand me.

I was part of the world again. It was incredible. I learned later how lucky I was.

You can find peace in chaos.

I think you just have to decide for yourself that you want it, and how hard you’re willing to fight to get it.