It was cloudy, grey and kind of cool that Friday morning, unusual in the late summer.
After weeks of waiting, my car desperately needed tires. I planned to get a new set at Discount Tire on Northwest Expressway with my dog Sean in tow. But, as I was walking out to my car, suddenly, electrical shocks surged through my body as my right leg went dead and I fell back onto the pavement.
Hitting the back of my head on the concrete front porch of my building, I was left with a lump and with a whole galaxy of visible stars, but as I started coming to, only one thing crossed my mind: I was having another stroke.
Damn… and I had been so careful…
Each time I have had a stroke, it always started with a slowly encroaching paralysis to the extremities of my body working inward, with the sensation of burning flesh on the still-working parts. No doubt, it’s pretty bad.
As I grabbed on to the handicapped rail and wiped the dirt off my hands, despite my considerable pain I was able to get up and walk. Thinking I might’ve beaten it, I sloughed it off and, caustically, chose to forget it.