I had always planned to attend law school, but life events delayed my entry until my kids had both started high school. I was 43 years old. Fortunately, my very supportive law school allowed me to stretch the coursework over four years so that I could better juggle parenting, school, and part-time work as a law clerk. My younger son graduated from high school the same month I finished the JD. The final hurdle before launching my legal career was, of course, the Ohio Bar Exam, scheduled for July 30, 2013.
Having taken a couple of months to study, I felt confident after day one and began the second day of the 2 ½ day exam with optimism. That day, however, I had to fight through the worst headache of my life. Thinking the headache was due to the weather, I simply went back to the hotel, ordered room service, reviewed briefly for the following day, and made plans to celebrate with my kids the following evening.
A loud ringing in my ears woke me at 4:34 AM. Next, I realized I could barely control my limbs. I somehow managed to dial for help on my phone but had to struggle to speak coherently. I fell out of bed to crawl on the floor to open the door for EMS. Still, one thought overwhelmed me: “How am I going to finish the bar exam!? I have to be in that Hall by 9:00!” In the emergency room, I displayed more concerning neurological symptoms, but still, I told everyone that I had to be at the exam by 9:00. I even kept reciting my bar review outlines!
9:00 AM came and went. A blood clot was found at the base of my brain and symptoms worsened. By 4:00 PM I had suffered three major cerebral vascular events; the last one paralyzed my left side completely. A life flight from Columbus to Cleveland, a week in ICU, and a month of inpatient rehab followed.
Here I was, 47 years old, recently divorced, and with two wonderful children almost ready to depart for their freshman and their sophomore years in college and who still needed me to be Mom. Yes, I did receive amazing support from my kids, from my large and loving extended family, and from a big network of friends. Still, I knew the task of overcoming this horror was ultimately mine.
Eleven years later I am still challenged by the stroke’s effects daily, though outwardly I appear “recovered” and most casual observers cannot detect I had once been paralyzed. I even passed the bar exam a mere six months later. (Yes, even though I had completed 80% of the bar exam, the Supreme Court withdrew my test and I had to take the entire thing over again.) I have worked as an attorney ever since and my limp usually only appears when I am very fatigued.
So, people I meet now are surprised when they learn of my experience, and they often ask, “How did you do it?” I normally respond, “I had no other choice. You will be surprised what you can do when you put your mind to it.” However, representing long-term care facilities as I do, I am often taken aback by the large number of their middle-aged residents who experience a stroke and do not seem to recover much at all. Why was I able to regain my life when others could not? I have since come to understand that my recovery was not just due to amazing medical care, but also to my own resilience.
The American Medical Association (“AMA”) defines resilience as “the process and outcome of successfully adapting to difficult or challenging life experiences, especially through mental, emotional, and behavioral flexibility and adjustment to external and internal demands.” For me in that moment, resilience meant marshalling all of my inner strength, accrued life wisdom, coping skills, and support systems. The good news is that resilience characteristics can be developed and practiced to prepare one both for life’s everyday stresses and for major unexpected traumas. Resilient people share many characteristics, but I will focus on the ones that helped me the most.
Control
Taking control of one’s crisis situation seems fundamental to resilience. Paradoxically, though, and even more important, is one’s willingness to identify and accept what one can no longer control—to control one’s natural desire to control unrealistically.
Public relations campaigns regarding strokes continually emphasize the connection between early treatment and recovery prognoses. That morning, I did act quickly, so that when I entered the ER I was still moving all my limbs. But twelve hours later, I was completely paralyzed on my left side. Eighteen hours later, a priest came to my room to give me last rites. Soon after came the life-flight to the Cleveland Clinic for possible brain surgery. Whirling down this descending spiral, I grasped to understand how and why my life had changed so dramatically in hours. I first resorted to my nature as an inveterate control freak: I wanted answers and demanded them from everyone. “Everyone” was a pretty big group! I had teams from virtually every medical specialty-neurology, cardiology, hematology, oncology, gastroenterology--all trying to figure me out.
I soon realized that trying to do their job was not helpful. I had a different job. I had to change my focus. I could not change what had happened. I had to accept that there were several lesions in my brain that had paralyzed much of my body. The only thing I could control was how I responded. I had two young adult children who still needed me as a mother and not as a burden. I needed to be strong for them by showing them how to survive such trauma.
Meanwhile, the rehabilitative services team guided me onto the baby-step process of retaking control of my body. I literally needed to reprogram my brain’s neural connections to my muscles. I had to teach my brain to move my limbs again, the controller teaching the controller! I had to think of each motion I wanted to perform and consciously think the action into being. I also had to rewire and reinforce pathways within my brain so I would not forget the legal material I had learned in law school.
This was my control. I had to control my thoughts.
As part of my mental control, I also had to regulate my emotions without shutting them off completely. I knew I could neither allow myself to wallow in self-pity nor punish myself for feeling sad. I would allow myself a few minutes in the morning to cry if I needed to release frustration. I still remember the cry when my kids left for college without me while I was still in hospital unable to walk. However, once those few minutes passed, I consciously refocused back to my physical and occupational therapy—moving forward one step at a time. Maintaining such vent-and-control balance is essential for resilience.
Connections
Resilient people have a healthy support system. I realized more than ever that we really are not islands, but need villages of loving and supportive people. Resilience is developed over a lifetime if one maintains and nurtures relationships with family and friends. I had done that for years prior, so I not only had a large family but also very close friends (and even my children's friends) taking turns to sit with me in the hospital and cheer me on during therapy sessions. Their support and enthusiasm kept me smiling and reinforced my growing control of my neural reprogramming.
“Connections” can also to refer to other sources of meaning in life, such as religious faith. My Catholic faith, despite certain frustrations with Catholicism, was a comfort to me in those dire times. And then there is music. Music had always been a motivator for me prior to the strokes. I always listened while working out and driving and making dinner; music has always made me happy and helped me through difficult times. In particular, I (and both my kids) love Pearl Jam. My therapists blasted Pearl Jam during my sessions, which really motivated me. I posted pictures of my progress on the Pearl Jam fan Facebook page, from which I received massive online support from the Pearl Jam “jamily”. Months earlier my daughter Ursula and I had purchased tickets for two of their concerts during October in Buffalo and Pittsburgh, just a couple of months after the strokes. These future concert dates motivated me even more.
Competence and Confidence
Resilience also includes problem-solving, adaptability, and expanding one’s capabilities into new fields. Being open to growth and pushing boundaries beyond earlier cocoons is a great way to cultivate resilience before it is actually needed, as such experiences broaden and deepen one’s foundations. Completing law school while parenting during my forties certainly helped fortify my resilience to survive my later medical crisis.
But one also needs confidence, which can fade during difficult times. I had to build back my confidence by setting attainable goals. I desperately wanted to take the bar exam in February to move on with my life. However, I had so much to accomplish first. I distinctly remember my first goal was to move my little finger on my left hand. That was the beginning. If I could teach my brain to do that, there was hope. (The brain really is amazing!) I constantly thought about moving that finger. I concentrated and concentrated and then cried when I finally felt my finger move. I was on my way. The same kind of work saw me stand and walk with a walker, and then climb three stairs so I could move in with my 79-year-old mother in her ranch home. Finally, I did go to those Pearl Jam concerts in October with my daughter pushing me through the arenas in a wheelchair. Pearl Jam has a song called “The Fixer” with the chorus “Fight to get it back again.” That was my anthem--I had to fight to get my life back again. A wonderful woman named Tanya Kang runs a business called “Pearl Jam Fan Portraits”; she photographs fans holding signs with their favorite lyrics at concert venues. Her portrait of Ursula and me is attached to this article. (BTW: Ursula is in her final year of law school and already has secured a position within a law firm for the fall of 2025 after she passes the bar exam, exactly twelve years after my bar exam strokes!)
So my recovery involved reaching for many goals large and small, and attaining each built my confidence further as a stroke survivor.
Of course, I never stopped exercising my brain to achieve that one mega-goal: passing the bar exam. I did take it again in February, less than six months after the strokes, with the assistance of a dictation program as my fine motor skills were not up to the task of typing yet. Looking back, I am actually grateful for taking that exam under those circumstances, because I passed it with a very high mark, which gave me further confidence to start my new career. Not only had I remembered the material from law school, I still possessed the critical thinking skills needed to succeed as an attorney.
Eleven years later, my stroke does still impact my daily life. Eleven years later, the doctors are still changing their theory of why and how it happened. I guess it’s a good thing I let go of that control! I still attend physical therapy to work on my balance and strength, something I will need to do for the rest of my life, along with taking a whole host of medications including blood thinners. I often must “think” about my walking so I do not trip, and my typing skills still have a lot to be desired, to which my paralegal will attest. But as I said in the beginning, I am for the most part “recovered” and live my life fully. I work for an amazing firm, love to travel, and enjoy time with my beautiful family. I was fortunate to have already developed many of these resilience characteristics before my strokes, but I am still refining and strengthening my resilience muscle. I hope my experience encourages you to cultivate and nurture yours. You never know when you are going to need it.
Photo Credits: Tanya Kang of Pearl Jam Fan Portraits.
When something’s dark, let me shed a little light on it.
When something’s gone, I wanna fight to get it back again.
When something’s broke, I wanna put a bit of fixin’ on it.
Fight to get it back again, oh yeah, yeah, yeah!
Fight to get it back again, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!
The Fixer
Song by Pearl Jam
Eddie Vedder / Matt Cameron
Mike Mccready / Stone Gossard
Lyrics: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
