A Stroke? Not me – I‘m only 49! A heart felt poem written by a very lovely lady & dear friend of ours…

A stroke – not me – I‘m only 49!

By Shelagh Brennand


“Twas a sunny day in Queensland, the day that changed my life

How was I to know a little gardening would cause us all such strife.


The day before I’d been with friends, and really feeling great

49 and fit as a lop and I’d even lost some weight.


So, the last day of the holidays, I cherished with my son

We weeded, seeded, trimmed and chopped, until it was all done.


“Please can I now go inside” he said with such a frown

So that left me in the garden, lawn mowing on my own.


The day was hot, I’d done a lot, and I should have taken a break

So I went inside to have a rest, perhaps a meal to make.


I suddenly came over all dizzy and hot and felt a little squiffy

My head into the toilet, I thought would sort it in a jiffy.


That’s the last thing I remember, before I clearly fell

When I awoke I saw my son and didn’t feel too well.


His name that I first shouted, I could say no more

I could not move a muscle, from that cold, tiled bathroom floor.


My mouth it moved, but no words came, I thought I had gone dumb

My right leg couldn’t move at all, my right side had gone numb.


Oh what to do, his little face, I see it every day

Such calm, then panic looking at me, slumped there in disarray.


A friend, thank God, she came around and knew just what to do

The next things I remember were those marvellous Ambulance crew.


“A stroke”, they muttered to themselves, I thought it could not be

In three months time I was going to be only half a century.


“I’m far too young, you’ve got it wrong” I thought and tried to say

I wasn’t going to be a stroke victim, on that lovely sunny day.


The words, the tubes, the tests and lots of things they had to do

I felt scared and helpless, so confused, but that crew, they got me through.


The flashing lights at every stop, the sirens and the rush

Could this be really happening to me, a 49 year old lush?


The hospital, now that was fun, the chaos and the mayhem

Those Doctors they worked tirelessly, I could never be one of them.


The days that followed brought good news, the stroke team did their bit

A clot had caused this sorry mess and soon I would be fit.


My voice came back quite easily, and so my walking too

I did feel quite a lucky girl despite the hullabaloo.


So now this brings me three months on and wow have I improved

Though fatigue still hurts both in my head and in my body too.


“Don’t rush back to your old life” advice it came in droves

Since I’ve been well I seem to have my brain so full of odes.


These poems are the strangest thing; they swirl around in my head

Quite often, I just cannot sleep and get out of my bed.


My social worker, what a lady, Judy was so great

She said the brain does wondrous things, so don’t fight them, celebrate.


I’m 50 now, I got there quick, with friends to roust me on

A husband, sister close at hand and of course my loving son.


The recovery months are still to come, so rest it is a key

Who knows what lies ahead for us, life is a mystery.


So please take note of my young age, for this tale it is so true

Just be aware of your own limits, or it can happen to you.


Shelagh, 50 years






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