(The scar comes in next chapter.. )
When I hit 8 years old, I had an episode I suppose you could call it. No, more like detrimental. I was walking through my hallway, and then all of a sudden I fell to the ground. I had no motor function capabilities, I had to brace myself against the hallway and shuffle my way out. I had to get help! My mom, who was in the living room, looked up at me. But low and behold, I couldn't speak! I tried so hard to, but it just wouldn't work. It was almost paralyzing. So what does a child do? Pantomime with their hands. So, I started waving my hands around frantically. My mom thought I was just playing a joke, until I dropped to my knees. She then knew something was seriously wrong with me. So she got one of my books off the shelf and told me to try and read it, of course, I couldn't. It was a Grade Kindergarten book.. It was simple as pie. I just couldn't speak. Off to the hospital I went to get poked and prodded.
It's funny, I can remember that clear as day, but I couldn't tell you that much else about my child hood. At least that far back. But that's one thing, I don't think I could forget..
Back to the story at hand, I was taken to UC Davis, which for us was only 45 minutes away. Which I was in luck, because they are some amazing doctors. So, they found where the stroke happened.. It was in the back left side of my brain, it was a bleed they said. Thankfully, children who have strokes tend to bounce back. They told me if I had been older, that stroke would have probably killed me. Thank goodness for resiliency. I was in the hospital a few weeks, just getting tests done. When I finally DID get out, they sent me home saying it must have been a fluke. That nothing would ever happen again..
Boy, were they wrong...
To Be Continued.
