No one tells you that the stroke happens, it is extremely tough to watch, but unlike cancer or any other sort of illness, for many that is the easiest part. The real struggle begins with the recovery and all of the unknowns. There was one thing I realized right away when Matt had his stroke. It was isolation island from people our age. No one quite comprehended that this was not a broken leg or strep throat. There was no set time to recover and then all would be well. There were no magic pills or anything rest and water were going to fix. As a matter of fact we now resided in a grey area where we were hoping for close to a full recovery but had no idea if that would happen and were staring down a long road of doctors, testing and therapy and it started almost immediately.
Once Matt was cleared to go back to Colorado to continue recovery we spent a weekend with his mom in California then began the journey back to our home. Let me tell you traveling through two airports with an adult in a helmet that has only half of his skull and does not speak is not a task for the faint of heart especially when this person “looks fine”. People are relentless and would constantly attempt to ask Matt why he was wearing a helmet, which he couldn’t respond to with anything but a smile and eye lift. Then they would turn to me who was struggling to get through the airport with four bags and basically a large toddler. There is no quick way to explain what was happening other than he had a stroke, which I learned quickly shifts their perspective from woah why are you wearing a helmet to a look of gut wrenching pity, which is a look I would not wish on my worst enemy. Matt being from the South compares that look to the “bless your heart” of his youth.