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Where is RSL?

RSL, you forgot:

Being a friend with patience.

Please continue to get better.
 
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I wish things were easier for you, Robert, but they're not. The majority of us here are with you and wish only the best for you. Fight the depression as best you can. Let Susan help you.

Keep doing what you are doing.
 
I'm not sure how much this will help but the great film critic Roger Ebert had complications from cancer that left him in a coma, required multiple surgeries, left him unable to walk for months and required a tracheotomy that left him unable to speak without a voicebox to this day. He also needed to have part of his jaw removed and then required plastic surgery to rebuild it somewhat.

He wrote extensively about it on his blog and he reported a lot of the same things you did. Loss of voice, loss of mobility, being dependent on others for everything, loss of looks (he missed his former appearance even though he thought of himself as quite ugly before cancer), the strain it put on his loving wife and even the loss of his weight (he went from being obese to being much thinner but not at all in the way he wanted to).

Oddly, he's also a long time agnostic and his wife is also a devout Christian who prayed for him constantly throughout his recovery. He once said that he wished he had her faith and strength.

Maybe you should check out Roger Ebert's blogs and read some of what he wrote about being handicapped. One of the interesting things he wrote is that, oddly, he actually became a better and stronger writer because of the loss of his voice and other communication methods.

Another effect of his stroke was that he became extremely pained when having to read about or see anything to do with being in rehab, being in a hospital, undergoing medical treatment or anything else to do with severe illness. (He wrote an entire blog about having to turn off the film Wit after a few minutes.)

For what it's worth, no matter what, you are still my hero. You might not have your body but you have your mind and that's all you need. As Ebert said, we make the vast majority of our contributions to each other through the power of our minds.

You are still kind, funny, smart and sharp.
 
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Mr. Lancaster, While I don't often post about it, I've been following your story since before the stroke. Cheering you on in your battle against Sylvia Browne (I really, really dislike that that woman) and wishing I still prayed after your stroke.

Your posts are a way of keeping in touch without adding the strain of stranger's well-meaning but exhausting contact. I look forward to them, they let me know how you are progressing. Please don't worry about being a bit maudlin sometimes, getting knocked down makes everyone introspective.

Take of yourself, you've got a lot of people rooting for you, even if we're not always vocal about it.

I was wondering who was wandering around in my brain and now I know it was you. Thank you for expressing my exact thought and feelings down to
the very last letter. Your post was perfect.
 
Robert, it was an absolute delight meeting you and Susan in LA, and I hope to have the opportunity to do so again some time. I echo everything everyone else has had to say (except for that one :mad:), but all I can say is hang in there. You have a wonderful wife who loves you, and lots of people all over the world who are very concerned for your health and happiness. Not a lot of people can say that.
 
You've earned the right to a bit of self-indulgence, in my opinion, Robert. And if it helps you in any way to do so here, please continue!

Reading your post brought to mind Dr. Jill Taylor -- I don't know if I learned about her from one of yours or Susan's posts or if I came upon it coincidentally. Whatever the case, she's an interesting person who had a stroke and has written about it very eloquently. Worth a look, if you haven't come across her site already.

Meanwhile, please keep writing and posting!


Cheers,

M.
 
Robert,

It really is good to let it out and deal with it. You are someone I admire and I think you have the strength and support group to get you closer to life you would like to restart.
My mother had a stroke when I was 13 (she was 40), and I really was a case of my mother going into a coma and someone else coming home. May be it was me being at a rather awkward development stage, but I did in some ways resent that the woman that raised me was no longer there. I would avoid hospital visits and was rather ashame to have her in a wheelchair at the school musical that was my first starring role. Eventually, I matured and realized that save for mood swings, occasional fits of berating herself, and the inability to hit me, she was still my mother, and really the same person.
I'm sure your children will come around, and I think you will continue to surprise everyone (yourself included) as you keep bouncing back. I can recommend a good singing teacher out there if ya like... :)
 
Your post made me think about all the ways that I am not the person I used to be, or I hoped I would become. We all fall short. You have had a debilitating health issue, some of us have had other life-changing events, but as long as we support each other through the difficult times we can hope that whatever expectations we didn't live up to, we will be able to create new expectations that we strive to meet.
 
This has been a very interesting thread. The idea that "who I am" changes all the time--even for those of us who haven't had a major stroke--is fascinating.

I'm definitely not the same person I was some years ago. Some of the ways I've changed are by intention, but probably most, not so. And some of those ways aren't thinks I like (and fall within my power to do something about it). Yet, for the most part, I schlep along under the illusion that I am the same person I once was.

Again, Robert, I admire you for tackling this stuff head on and using your tried and true skeptical reasoning. (I find as often as not, I use my "best" reasoning to avoid confronting issues like this--the honest assessment of who I am.)

As others have said, you're an inspiration.
 
Robert,

It really is good to let it out and deal with it. You are someone I admire and I think you have the strength and support group to get you closer to life you would like to restart.

Thanks, basilio!


My mother had a stroke when I was 13 (she was 40), and I really was a case of my mother going into a coma and someone else coming home. May be it was me being at a rather awkward development stage, but I did in some ways resent that the woman that raised me was no longer there. I would avoid hospital visits and was rather ashame to have her in a wheelchair at the school musical that was my first starring role. Eventually, I matured and realized that save for mood swings, occasional fits of berating herself, and the inability to hit me, she was still my mother, and really the same person.

I still have the ability to hit people, as long as they are near enough, and on my right side. :D

I'm sure your children will come around, and I think you will continue to surprise everyone (yourself included) as you keep bouncing back. I can recommend a good singing teacher out there if ya like... :)
Sure, thanks! I would really like to work on it...

Your post made me think about all the ways that I am not the person I used to be, or I hoped I would become. We all fall short. You have had a debilitating health issue, some of us have had other life-changing events, but as long as we support each other through the difficult times we can hope that whatever expectations we didn't live up to, we will be able to create new expectations that we strive to meet.

Very well put - thanks!

This has been a very interesting thread. The idea that "who I am" changes all the time--even for those of us who haven't had a major stroke--is fascinating.
Well, I didn't start this with the intention of being fascinating, but it seems that I struck a chord - speaking of which, I forgot to mention

Playing the mandolin and violin

Especially the mando. I was at one time a member of the Los Angeles Mandolin Orchestra. Now, with my left hand stuck in a fist, playing these instruments would be problematic at best.

I'm definitely not the same person I was some years ago. Some of the ways I've changed are by intention, but probably most, not so. And some of those ways aren't thinks I like (and fall within my power to do something about it). Yet, for the most part, I schlep along under the illusion that I am the same person I once was.

Again, Robert, I admire you for tackling this stuff head on and using your tried and true skeptical reasoning. (I find as often as not, I use my "best" reasoning to avoid confronting issues like this--the honest assessment of who I am.)

As others have said, you're an inspiration.

thanks, Joe. you're very kind.
 
I'm not sure how much this will help but the great film critic Roger Ebert had complications from cancer that left him in a coma, required multiple surgeries, left him unable to walk for months and required a tracheotomy that left him unable to speak without a voicebox to this day. He also needed to have part of his jaw removed and then required plastic surgery to rebuild it somewhat.
Another effect of his stroke was that he became extremely pained when having to read about or see anything to do with being in rehab, being in a hospital, undergoing medical treatment or anything else to do with severe illness. (He wrote an entire blog about having to turn off the film Wit after a few minutes.)

Interesting! I had trouble watching House this season, where he is trapped inside a mental hospital. I identify too well with being under the control of nurses and staff when I wanted so badly to be home...

For what it's worth, no matter what, you are still my hero. You might not have your body but you have your mind and that's all you need. As Ebert said, we make the vast majority of our contributions to each other through the power of our minds.

You are still kind, funny, smart and sharp.

It's worth a lot EMM, and thank you!

Robert, it was an absolute delight meeting you and Susan in LA, and I hope to have the opportunity to do so again some time. I echo everything everyone else has had to say (except for that one :mad:), but all I can say is hang in there. You have a wonderful wife who loves you, and lots of people all over the world who are very concerned for your health and happiness. Not a lot of people can say that.
 
Hello again, all. For whatever reasons, I am back into a very introspective mode now. I have been thinking a LOT about my daughter (the one who has neither seen nor contacted me since the stroke) and my ex-wife, who, unacountably to me, hasn't seen or contacted me either. I don't know if I mentioed this in the OP, but, not long after the stroke, she came to the hospital where I was, and visited with our children and my siblings, but did not even stick her head into my room to say "hello." I've never understood why she refuses to even be friends noow. She divorced me largely for financial reasons. there was no affair, no abuse... so, why she refuses to be friends is a mystery to me. But, between her and the aforementioed daughter, I am really starting to question my self-image of having been a good husband and father back then.
 
...snip... But, between her and the aforementioed daughter, I am really starting to question my self-image of having been a good husband and father back then.

It is a shame that after all these years you and Sylvia aren't reconciled, especially after you starting that fansite about her!







(Posted in the hope it made you chuckle.)
 
...snip... But, between her and the aforementioed daughter, I am really starting to question my self-image of having been a good husband and father back then.

Their actions probably reflect more on them than on you. If it bothers you though you might ask them about it, and get their perspective. It may not be what you expect at all.
 
Hello again, all. For whatever reasons, I am back into a very introspective mode now. I have been thinking a LOT about my daughter (the one who has neither seen nor contacted me since the stroke) and my ex-wife, who, unacountably to me, hasn't seen or contacted me either. I don't know if I mentioed this in the OP, but, not long after the stroke, she came to the hospital where I was, and visited with our children and my siblings, but did not even stick her head into my room to say "hello." I've never understood why she refuses to even be friends noow. She divorced me largely for financial reasons. there was no affair, no abuse... so, why she refuses to be friends is a mystery to me. But, between her and the aforementioed daughter, I am really starting to question my self-image of having been a good husband and father back then.

Speaking just for myself, whenever someone close to me has had a serious or terminal illness, or died, I've tried to completely ignore them. I just hate thinking about it because it's too painful, and I also feel like I have absolutely nothing to say to them. Can't offer platitudes that I know are mere cliches ("I'm sure you'll get better" or "you're doing great"), and my tendency to speak the truth wouldn't be good (if they said they had hope for a recovery but the illness is terminal, I'm afraid I'd say "No, I think you'll certainly die"). And feel completely inadequate in trying to support their spouses or other loved ones.

The worst was when the dad of my best friend in high school died in a car accident. I had no idea what to say to him, nothing seemed appropriate, and I knew I also might break down myself. I ignored him for months and really regret it. Your kids might be feeling some of this too, that there's nothing they can say or do that will really help you now, and if all they want to do is help you, it could be too painful to see you while thinking they won't be able to do that.

None of my fears about dealing with this has been any fault of the person who the illness/death happened to, so your kid's hesitance to visit you might not be any indication of how she measures your fatherhood or such. In fact it might be an opposite correlation--I've dealt with deaths/illnesses of casual friends and their loved ones much better and more straightforward than I have people I really cared about.
 
Their actions probably reflect more on them than on you. If it bothers you though you might ask them about it, and get their perspective. It may not be what you expect at all.
I will if/when I see them in person. My emails to both are seldom answered. for all I know, they are summarily deleted.
 
Speaking just for myself, whenever someone close to me has had a serious or terminal illness, or died, I've tried to completely ignore them.

Yes, definitely ignore the ones who have died. :)

I know what you mean, thanks. I am sure that plays a part in this, especially with my daughter. My ex-wife comes from a huge extended fmily (she had some twenty aunts and uncles.), and I have seen her react quite appropriately and sympathetically to the illnesses and deaths of many, many family members over the years.

best,

-rsl
 
I can think of one more thing that hasn't changed, Robert -- you still write wonderfully.

It's an interesting way to think about it -- we all change all the time, gradually becoming quite different people than we once were. When you've suffered a brain injury, though, the change is big and sudden and much more out of your control.

I'll second the recommendation for Jill Bolte-Taylor's book, if you haven't read it yet. In part of it, she talks about exactly the sort of thing you're dealing with, having to re-define her identity after a stroke. Her approach was to learn to accept that the old Jill was gone, to take the time to miss her and even grieve for her, while at the same time learning to love and appreciate the new person who had been born from her ordeal.

(Yes, she does get into some airy-fairy self-helpy stuff toward the end of the book, but overall it's still a good read.)

Of course, her stroke was quite different from yours, and you may find that, in your case, the old RSL isn't gone at all, just wounded and taking some much-needed time to heal.

I hope things work out with your family, too. I don't know what your relationship was like with your ex-wife before the stroke, but it may be that she doesn't feel like it's her place to fuss over you, being an ex and all.

Then again, some people just don't know how to cope with brain injury. Lucky for both of you that your current wife isn't one of them. :)
 
Speaking from experience, you may have done something without even realising it. Unless your ex is obsessive about telling you everything about how she's feeling (and let's face it, who is?), it's quite possible that something you have done in the past has annoyed her in some way that you don't even realise.

That's what happened to me, anyway.
 

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