Hi Darling Ones,

I’m in that weird position where writing about what’s on my mind makes things better and yet everything on my mind bores the daylights out if me.

How many times can I say that being in my body is weird and annoying? How many times can I complain about the myriad ways having a stroke has disrupted my life in the worst ways?

I miss the days when my thoughts were filled with sex and books and rock & roll. Those were the good old days.

Now all I think about is how heavy my right arm feels and whether or not the lightheadedness plaguing me for the past two weeks is better or worse. I’m cautiously optimistic it’s getting better. I topped taking the blood pressure med that I started right before the onslaught of lightheadedness landed me in the ER. I also started taking lexapro to help with anxiety. Allegedly it will help with the depression rendering me a lifeless lump on the couch. I sure as hell hope so.

I’m working on asking for and accepting help in various forms. It’s not easy and makes me feel weak. I know this is stupid. I rarely think people who ask for my help are weak. I mean, I do kinda judge those who could easily google the solution to their problem. Trust me, I have googled all the stroke things. Anyway, in general, I’m kind of astounded by the bravery of people who ask for help. Putting yourself out there and admitting you can’t do something is courageous as hell.

So along with all the other muscles I’m strengthening, asking for help is in there.

Speaking of, I do a lot of arm exercises with a stretchy band. When I first started these exercises my Occupational Therapist made the mistake of telling me there were different colored bands based on the amount of resistance the band provided.

I thought of the Sexy Dance Healing episode of “Bob’s Burgers” where Jairo uses Capoeira to heal Bob’s shoulder. During the process Bob earns different colored scrunchies to mark his progress.

Of course, I was to get to the pink band because my Occupational Therapist has never given it out. I’ve already graduated from green to blue, which feels like quite an achievement. The blue is really hard, and I only have one more month of in-home therapy so I might not get the pink, but I’m gonna try.

Think pink,
Jodi