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I Had A
Stroke and God Is Mean
by
Phil Staudt
March 27, 2009
The
Phil Staudt Blog
I had a stroke while I was driving a taxi in Las Vegas. I had a couple of businesses that went bust in Oregon in 2003 and 2004, and I had to go somewhere and get a job. I went to Las Vegas where I had been a cab driver years before, because Las Vegas was a busy place and I needed to do something to finance my Internet marketing hobby-future-career-addiction. Spring is usually the busiest time for business in Las Vegas because of business conventions and trade shows, so last year I was working a lot during that time. On May 29, 2009, I had been driving for 10 hours of my 12 hour shift, and I had been feeling just fine all night long, but I got really tired. That was not too unusual after 10 hours of driving tourists around in traffic jams and working 60 hours a week, so I did not think that anything was wrong with me.
I had just taken some people to a hotel, and I had been talking to them all the way, and I headed back to the airport because they needed cabs. When I pulled up to the airport, I was feeling tired and a little dizzy, but that is the same way I felt a lot of times working
many jobs where I had long hours and lots of stress. I put the passengers' luggage in the taxi and got in and started driving. But my seat belt was not going in. I kept trying to get it fastened but it would not work. So I put it under my leg and drove away. The two men in my cab were talking to each other, so on the way out of the airport I went to verify with them what hotel I thought they had told
me they were going to, which had always been my policy when starting a trip. But when I started talking, all that came out of my mouth was gibberish. They looked at me weird, and so I said, "okay". I figured
something was weird, but I thought I was just tired. I was driving fine and knew where I was going.
When I got to The Venetian Hotel to drop off these men, I could not get out of my seat because I was unable to get my seatbelt undone, which I had somehow fastened on the way there. After at least 30 seconds of trying, I finally got
it unfastened. By that time the passengers had their luggage out and had the money ready for me. I said "thank you." I got in my cab and got back in the taxi line at The Venetian
because it was busy. I tried to write on my trip sheet, but my pen kept falling out of my hand. My hand felt like it was asleep. I picked up a gentleman at The Venetian, but I could not hear where the doorman said he was going, which is common. So, I had to ask the man where he was going before I took off in the wrong direction. My words were not coming out good at all, but I was able to get something out of my mouth that got him to tell me where he was going. He was sympathetic, and I think he just thought that I had a hard time speaking, and he was right. I dropped him off at Mandalay Bay and he gave me a nice tip.
By then, there was just enough time for me to get one more ride from the airport. By this time my hand was working fine and I was writing okay and I did not even feel tired. I drove to the airport, but there were too many cabs in line, so I decided to drive up Paradise Road
toward the cab yard. I was checking all the restaurants and hotels on the way to see if there
were people waiting for cabs. I stopped by my apartment to drop off my briefcase, and I was starting to worry about my speaking problems. So I woke up my room-mate. I sat in the living room and he kept asking me questions, but I was not able to say more than one short word. I turned my cab in and went home.
I was walking fine. I had counted my money and filled out my trip sheet, and added the money in my head as usual, and had turned everything
in properly. The only thing that was wrong with me was that I could not say more than one word at a time. The thought of going to the hospital, missing out on work, and then having a rotten messed up medical record, was the last thing I wanted to do. I hate doctors and hospitals and I had not missed a day of work because of illness in 18 years, and that was
when I had to have a double hernia operation. I don't take any prescription drugs or illegal drugs. I smoke a good cigar once a year and drink a glass of red wine every few weeks. I don't have high blood pressure. My cholesterol is not high. I am not diabetic. I eat lots of salmon and vegetables. I walk at least five miles a week. But
t here I was, facing the probability that I would not be able to have health insurance without being rich, or
having to be employed at a dead-end job I hate. Don't think I did not consider going to bed and worrying about it the next day. But I called a taxi driver I knew, and went to the hospital.
When I got to the hospital there was a security guard at the desk. I figured I would have to fill out forms and wait for a long time in the waiting room to see a doctor, but when my room-mate told him that I was having trouble speaking, they zoomed me into the emergency room and started rolling me around from one machine to another. They take this stroke thing seriously. The hard part was knowing that my life would be screwed up from then on, even if I recovered 100%. Just more bad luck and one more rock hitting me in the head.
Maybe I have been worse off because I did not get to the hospital right away. If I could go back and do it again, I would have dropped my passengers off at The Venetian and then
sat down on their driveway and looked sick until their security got me an ambulance. The problem with not being able to speak is that you can't speak. There is no way to tell anybody that something is wrong. I did not think I had a stroke, because people I know who had strokes were unable to
move and needed assistance.
While I was in the hospital all I could do is think. I could not talk to anyone. When I called my dad he did not even know who I was, because I could not say
anything that he understood. My mom figured out quickly what had happened because she knows about strokes and how they cause people to not be able to speak.
While I was hospitalized, I thought about how it does not pay to work hard and save money so I can do things that I want. I wondered why God was so mean and cruel to me. I know I deserve it, but I think we all would like a break now and then. That is when
I came to the realization that God is mean and cruel. Not just to me, but
to most people, if not to everyone.
God is mean and cruel. The things that were the easiest for me to do my whole life were writing and talking. The jobs and businesses I had where I made decent money were a result of my being able to write and speak well. Now I have aphasia and the only things I was good at are bad. Whether it is God's punishment or His refining process or whatever, the truth is that God is mean. If you believe in God and have read the Bible, then you know from the lives of Jesus and Job and Joseph that God is mean and cruel. Was God punishing them? That is not what The Bible says. Maybe I am supposed to call it love, but that would not make it any less mean or cruel. I am not bitter or angry about it, because misery likes company and I have lots of company. But I have found that having bad luck and difficulties is very annoying. I do not subscribe to the "it is good even though it is bad" philosophy. I believe in
being honest with myself. My life is bad enough without being struck by lightning, too. Things could be a lot worse for me, but they could also be much better. But I am not a quitter. I just get up and dust myself off and try again.
The most difficult thing for me was a couple of days after my stroke when I sat down at a table in the hospital and tried to write. Welcome to the world of aphasia. I was unable to put more than three words in a row.
My hard drive's memory had been wiped out. I could not come up with words. I could understand people as long as they talked slow. I could not pronounce words that I read. It took me a few weeks to be able to understand what was said on television or on the radio because they were talking too fast for me. It took me months of speech therapy and determination on my part to be able to have conversations with people without sounding like I was drunk or confused, and I still am not able to talk as well as I could before. If I relax and just try to talk at my normal pace like I used to, then sometimes words come out in the wrong order or I pronounce them wrong. So if I am talking to people I do not know I talk slowly and
over-enunciate my words in order to cut down on my goofs. But when I talk to people I know, I conscientiously talk faster than is comfortable
for me, and I keep on going in spite of the mistakes, because I know that the more I do that the better I get at talking and writing.
I still cannot sing songs. I could probably do some singing if I was reading the words, but I have not done that since my stroke. I had a large memory of songs and I could sing for hours and hours by myself without music. Now the words are gone. I cannot even sing the words to the songs that I wrote when I was young. That is no big deal. I do not need to sing, but it was a way to calm my nerves in the past.
Having a stroke and dealing with aphasia is just one more experience that I may or may not be able to use for good. I will see. If God wants me to be a doormat for everyone to wipe their shoes on, what can I do? God is God. Most of my life I have been very rebellious, and I am not a shining example of what God wants people to do, but during the times when I rebelled against God, I enjoyed life and things went well for me. During the times when I sought God and searched for truth from Him, everything has been rotten, and I have had nothing but bad luck, and there is no joy. I don't know what that means, it is just the way it has been for me. I do not know what it is like to live another person's life. I only have this one.
At least I do not have to take any prescription drugs and I am not disabled. My hope is that I make enough to pay more for health insurance what most people make in a year, because I live in the United states, and insurance company profits are more important than human beings. I doubt I can find an insurance to cover me in Nevada, even though I am healthier than most of the people
working at the insurance companies that deny me, and they can deny anyone who has a record of having any health problems. If I move to a state that requires health insurance companies to cover people with health
problems (because the
insurance companies aren't paying off the right politicians), then I will have to pay a fortune to be covered. Of course, being out of work from my stroke was followed up with a world-wide economic depression, and Las Vegas was hurt the worst with record foreclosures and high unemployment and mass layoffs and companies filing
bankruptcy, and my income went way down. That is just one more of God's blessings disguised as cruelty and hardship. I just try to take care of myself and hope that I do not need medical care. Such is life.
by
Phil Staudt
March 27, 2009
The
Phil Staudt Blog
On March 29,
I went over this article and tried to fix my errors. Writing was always
so easy for me before my stroke, and when I go back and see errors that
I made in something I have written, it makes me feel discouraged. But
that is a feeling I have known most of my life.
   
Tags: aphasia stroke
stroke aphasia
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God did not do that to you. The devil did and God has done what it takes to save you from the devil's tactics, sin, and even sickness in Jesus. Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and you shall be saved. Why does everyone blame God for the bad things in this world and the devil gets away with being innocent? Isn't that funny.
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