When it was reported on March 30 that Bruce Willis would be retiring from acting (even for now) due to Aphasia, this was probably the first time many people had heard of this condition. However, for me aphasia has become an integral part of my ongoing reality that affects me every day, all day.
Four years ago, my brain went astray by unexpected chance. I had a stroke in my sleep. It happened suddenly without any warning. I have no symptoms or risk factors.
After that there were obvious physical signs that I had a stroke. It’s impossible to ignore the fact that I can’t really use the law. After that, trying to regain my physical strength and ability captured all my thinking. I considered myself lucky – and so did I. I have not lost the ability to walk and can still speak.
Physical therapy has helped me regain strength and control in my right hand. Eventually, I gripped the pencil tightly to write down the half -read words and soon began writing again. At first I was so relaxed that I was using the keyboard, no matter what assortment and character would appear on the screen.
However, I soon had to go back to work and resume my routine. I want to write a lot. The deadlines have come. Assignments must be completed.
It was then that I realized that some of my words were gone.
I’ve heard I have aphasia like a new shade of lipstick or maybe a hip nightclub. Instead, it happens when I have difficulty thinking of words that seem to be stuck permanently to the tip of my tongue and almost inaccessible.
Although aphasia is defined by various medical sources as a “condition” or “illness”, it is also often listed as a symptom of another condition because it often occurs due to stroke, brain tumor, or other related problem. the brain.
Temporary aphasia may occur due to a mini-stroke, seizures, or severe migraine. Chronic aphasia, however, is usually considered incurable and permanent.
My type of aphasia – the result of damage to my frontal lobe from the stroke – is long -term. A few months after my stroke – after a period of “trying to see” where there may be signs that my aphasia is temporary – doctors warned me that it was a condition I would likely live with for the rest of my life. . .
However, I know that the brain is a mysterious phenomenon that often works in unexpected ways, so I hope that eventually some of the missing words may appear occasionally as spring flowers appearing after a long winter. Meanwhile, I was in a hazy cloud of brain.
There is no cure for aphasia. The only treatment options are speech therapy and occupational therapy, which can help improve outstanding language skills while the individual also explores other forms of communication. Doctors also recommend brain games and other activities that help keep your mind clear and can have mental benefits.
As a writer, words are the source of my life, so when they disappeared, it was a big change in my world. But I had to learn to adapt to my new reality, or at least tolerance.
I often write the first draft with a kind of blissful ignorance. I print at a decent speed and find a suitable alternative to the words I avoid. Then I will go back to writing what I wrote. At that moment I may realize that I wrote “many” instead of “should” or the phrase I will use has become something completely different and unrelated.
Always looking for the silver line, I tell myself that random combinations of words make my writing fun. Adds some surprise and whim. You never know what the unexpected might look like then! But I understand that it’s not spontaneity that my editors prefer. So my writing process – somewhat delayed due to hand problems – slows even more as I review and forcefully triple each sentence, looking at each word with laser focus, hoping I can identify someone. That doesn’t matter.
Although this process is painful, it is better than a more frustrating scenario where the words don’t come out, something that happens more than I expected.
It’s hard enough to find your words when you’re writing. This is even more frustrating – and embarrassing – in situations where you need to communicate. I was already experiencing social anxiety and intense fear of speaking in public before aphasia entered. Now the meaning of public speaking is really awful.
“As a writer, words are the source of my life, so when they disappeared, it was a big change in my world.”
In the past, I would sometimes ask for courage, talking to speakers, writing lectures, or participating in media interviews about the stories or topics I wrote that I covered. Now, I almost always reject these possibilities because the possibility of catching words or going back to long awkward silence causes a lot of stress.
I thought of trying to give a presentation at a conference, to quickly make it a more interactive experience for the audience than anyone planned, because I’m trying to do what I’m trying to say, or drop visual cues such a bad version. of a urinal.
The ability (or inability) to communicate affects all aspects of daily life. My anxiety increases until I have to make a phone call, attend a meeting or social event, or navigate any other situation that requires verbal interaction. Friends and loved ones are watching, often pretending not to notice – or joking that happens to all of us as we get older – and patiently waiting for me to think of the words I want to use. But it was frustrating for everyone involved – and even more disturbing and embarrassing in situations involving strangers who didn’t know my condition. It gets to the point that I often avoid a relationship that I need someone to talk to.
So I have a lot to sympathize with Willis, who has reportedly found it increasingly difficult to remember his lines. I can imagine he was in a lot of trouble because he was forced to try and do his scenes again, trying to do another take while those around him can do anything to help him.
Aphasia has changed many things in my life – most of them negative – but it also offers me a deeper understanding of my mother’s resistance, who has Parkinson’s and Levi’s bodily dementia, which has greatly affected in his abilities. communicative. And often it left him in a struggle for words. (Unfortunately, my mom died of COVID-19 a few weeks ago.)
Aphasia can be a painful and isolated condition. I’m glad to see Willis Powerful support system Around him. I also hope that the scope of his situation leads to an understanding of this situation and compassion for the victims.
As for me, I may never go back to “normal”, but I’m sure I still have countless words to write, even if it’s a bit unpredictable.
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Source: Huffpost
