Post Stroke Challenges

I don't know anyone that enjoys going through airport security. I tried to plan ahead and have my boarding pass and ID ready to show. I took off my shoes, put my purse and laptop bag in the square plastic tubs to be scanned.

As I was walking through the metal detector, the screener asked if the black bag passing through the machine was my laptop. Yes. Then he asked about the brown purse. I identified the purse as mine. He opened my purse and pulled out a water bottle (I had forgotten it was in there). He cited the rule of "only 3 ounces of liquid allowed."

The 12 ounce water bottle was probably three quarters full. I apologized and offered to drink it. Nope, not allowed. Can I pour it in the trash? Nope, not on that side of the security belt. At that point, a young TSA agent stepped up and said he would walk me out (the entire 6 feet) to the 'other side' where I could dispose of the water. So I follow the uniformed young man carrying my water- apparently I was not to touch it. Once through the gate, he handed me the bottle. I drink it down to less than an inch. I figured there wasn't even 3 ounces left. Nope, still not good enough, even though it was less than 3 ounces, it was still in a 12 ounce container. Geez. But, the young man cheerily confides, if I empty it, I can keep the bottle and then fill it from the drinking fountain in sight - less than 4 feet away. I drink the rest of the water.

One of the most frustrating and embarrassing residuals of the stroke is the inability to handle a lot of stimulation, frustration, or new information. The airport was crowded, hot, noisy and then 'all this' (in my logical mind it was not a big deal - however, in my post stroke (PS) brain it was overwhelming. Unfortunately, the PS brain was in control of the rest of my body. As I became more frustrated, I got more confused and my brain just shut down - like a computer in hibernation mode. Then, my vision started narrowing -leaving a pin hole of central vision . My wonderful new prism glasses were totally ineffective. All I could think was, if only I had Bailey, my service dog. But I had worked so hard to be more independent. Leaving her this trip was a test to prove I could do it by myself - obviously I was mistaken.

The young TSA agent led me back to the scanner operator, who then decided the same laptop that was successfully scanned through a few minutes prior, was now suspect. My laptop bag had to be taken apart as there were 'extra electronics' discovered.

It was all I could do to hold it together. I was near tears as he removed the GPS and my camera, along with the laptop. He called a supervising agent to inspect the equipment.
I can't blame them -I was dripping sweat like a nervous terrorist.

Finally, my property was given back - not in the bag, just thrown in the plastic container. I was trying to put my shoes on - a comical sight with my poor balance. It seemed like every passenger in the entire airport was behind me in line, staring at me, waiting to get through. I was fumbling trying to put things back in the laptop bag and get my purse. My jacket was missing, but at least I noticed, told the inspector and he found it on the next table before I left the area.

Finally, through security, I started looking for my sister. I waited at the end of the security screening area. Eventually I realized, she must have gone ahead to the boarding gate, which was at the end of a very long concourse.

She wasn't there. By then, my entire body was revolting, I was shaking, I could barely see, my legs were refusing to obey and I hurt everywhere - especially in my head. I sat down and tried to get a grip; medications, deep breaths and calming visualizations helped.

Why does my mind and body continue to betray me like this?

Ten minutes later, I force myself back down the long concourse. I was almost to the security area when my sister spots me.

Once, I was a strong, independent, confident, woman - now, I sometimes feel like a lost two year old.