My husband had a stroke (Day 1)
Every second counts & Denial costs minutes.
I want to scream KNOW THE SIGNS OF A STROKE before anyone closes this post.
and SCHEDULE YOUR DOCTORS’ APPOINTMENTS YOU BIG DUMMY …because everything would probably be different if we had.
But the big Aha! I gained from this experience - the one thing I hadn’t heard from anyone else when it comes to strokes or medical emergencies or crisis of any kind - is to expect denial.
I didn’t believe what was happening while it was happening.
Not in the first moments, not in the first hours, not in the first days.
Sometimes, not even today.
Expect denial.
Because it can’t happen to me, right?
Content warnings for medical situations, mortality fears, paranormal experiences, hospital settings, and any other thing that may come up with stroke experiences.
I hold this underlying sense of dread around strokes. I always have, for reasons I won’t dive into with this post… but just know I have always panicked at the idea of a stroke and have worried that those around me would NOT know the signs in time to help me.
Do you know the signs of a stroke? Find out more about strokes, their causes, their types, and the signs to look out for, here.
Turns out, at least for this experience, I was the one who needed to act fast.
And I did. But it could have been faster, if I had known to expect denial.
The time line is blurry, so keep that in mind when it comes to finite details of time and space, but this post is all about my experience as I witnessed and cared for my husband, Ken, as he suffered a hemorrhagic stroke on January 14, 2025.
What made me be where I was that day? Which moments of a million moments worked together to get me to where I was that day?
January 14th was a Tuesday.
2:15pm
My husband got home from work at his usual time - bringing home Wendy’s (a fast food chain) for us as a little treat.
2:45pm
After finishing his Frosty (an ice cream dessert), he set off to pick up our son from the bus stop about 3 blocks from home.
This was all routine.
The only break from routine, in fact, is something I consider a potential paranormal influence. A guardian angel, divine intervention, fate … magic.
On a typical Tuesday at this time I would be in my office, working on my computer. Maybe even on on a video call or watching a live stream, and/or listening to music very loudly. My office is down the hall from the front entrance to our home. There is no line of sight.
But this day, I was sat on the floor of the front-most room, using a low coffee table as a desk and playing Sims on my laptop. A new laptop I hadn’t started using in my office yet, for unknown reasons. Procrastination, I thought, with change being a transition and all.
But my being where I was, meant I had first view of anyone who came into the house and a view out the window to the driveway. This reality allowed me to see and realize things much faster than a typical day… and when it comes to a stroke, every minute counts.
What made me be where I was that day? Which moments of a million moments worked together to get me to where I was that day?
The bus is always on time at 2:54pm and our son would run back inside the house before his father, who would gather up the backpack and walk in behind him.
Routine.
Except this day was different.
3:00PM
It was very cold outside. So when Ken stopped by the pillar that anchors our front porch, I noticed. It wasn’t the sort of day you wanted to stand outside.
He was getting sick. Frosty themed vomit coated the snow just beyond our porch’s edge.
I helped get the items he held in his hands, inside. He and I were speaking as I went back and forth.
“Do you think it’s the Frosty? Let me get you a cloth.”
Our son had had a stomach bug not even a week before…I thought it was a stomach bug. I learned later that vomiting can be a symptom of VERY high blood pressure.
“Did you eat the chicken?” I wasn’t sure if the chicken was bad, but the vomit was intense. He was using every part of his body to expel this Frosty.
He said he felt fine, just - More vomiting.
“It’s so cold. Let’s get inside.” I watched him lean more of himself onto the pillar. A brick barrier that concealed to me that he was, in fact, leaning on his left side…that side of his body unable to bear the full weight of himself. I didn’t see that.
I only saw a man weak from a stomach bug that came on fast.
and Frosty in the snow.
3:06PM
He let go of the pillar and fell into me, and somehow he made it to the couch several meters from the entrance. I helped him, but he had to have helped himself quite a bit, too.
“Do you want to go lay in bed or sit in back with our son?”
A typical day would have him and the kiddo playing Roblox or watching YouTube for a bit before the evening plans… Cub Scouts, I think.
Ken went to stand up. He’d lay on the back TV room’s couch.
“Oh.”
He couldn’t stand on his own. Plopped right back down where he was.
He feels cold. No doubt from standing in the sub zero temps for several minutes. No fever, for sure.
“Let’s just have you just sit here.” I moved a chair nearer to his feet, and when he couldn’t, I helped him put his legs onto that chair like a foot rest. “Just rest a minute.”
Denial.
3:10PM
I got a pan from the kitchen, which sits next to the back TV room.
“Your dad is sick, dude.” Our son was in the back TV room, cozy with his snack.
— “He said he had a really annoying headache, too.”
My son’s knowledge still brings a gasp to my chest. The first inkling of a stroke entered my mind when he said these words. The weakness, the headache. The stroke conversations I had been involved in that same day. Two, separate conversations. How curious that is when I think of it now.
3:12PM
“You have a headache?” I’m back in the room with my husband.
He confirms and remembers all at once. Oh yea, a really annoying headache (he’d later rate this a 6 out of 10 on the pain scale).
He’s so soft right now, his voice, his vibe. He’s kind and in love and relaxed. He’s so grateful for me taking care of him.
He’s not afraid.
He’s not worried.
He’s happy.
“Take this,” I thought heart attacks like aspirin, right? and he had a headache…all I had was Ibuprofen.
“Chew it, so that if you puke, it’s in your system through your gums.”
He tells me how smart I am for my idiocy.
HE WASN’T HAVING SYMTPOMS FOR A HEART ATTACK. DO NOT TAKE MY ACTIONS AS ADVICE FOR MEDICAL EMERGENCIES. I knew something was happening, but hadn’t found it yet.
Denial.
3:14PM
I moved his legs off of the chair (he’s sat on the couch still).
He asked me to help because he didn’t want his legs up on the chair anymore.
Definitely didn’t need to move his right leg; he moved that one himself. The thoughts wafted through my mind as I leaned over the rearranged furniture to turn off my Sims game, why are you bothering with turning anything off in a time like this? Definitely did need to move his left leg…because he could not.
Denial.
3:16:PM
I sent a message to my adult daughter. Who else could I message? Who else could tell me what I needed to know. We’re a small village & I needed help.
I don’t remember what that message says now & that daughter and I are estranged, but I think it went something like…
Ken’s vomiting and acting very weak. Should I take him to urgent care?
I didn’t see the reply for awhile.
3:19PM
He’s on the floor, he’s managed to leave the small couch on his own while I was down the hall in my office. He’s still awake. He’s still talking. He feels fine. He’s very convincing. He’s not puking anymore.
He’s not worried at all.
But he’s going to lay there, on the floor, in the front room, where we never exist in our home. He’s comfy and neither of us really address why he can’t get up.
He has a pan, a cold wet cloth, his phone, water.
His temperature is 94.5 and then 95.1.
My temperature is 98.6, so the thermometer works.
I don’t know what to do with this information, so I go back to the information I do know and I ask a question that will tell me what I’m trying to avoid knowing. And I do this without considering it at all. I don’t remember deciding to ask this, only that I asked
“What year is it?”
Has his lip always drooped that much?
He answered me, “It’s 2020.”
3:23PM
The bottom of my world crashed to the pits of the earth. How could he get the year wrong. How could he get the year wrong and it NOT be a stroke?
“You think it’s 2020? Who is the president?”
Denial.
Biden for a few more days, then Trump.
“You think it’s 2020?” (Denial)
or 2021.
“Are you sure?” (Denial)
He’s trying to type into his phone to find out the year.
Y-
Y-a *backspace
Y-E-a-E *backspace
Y-E-E *backspace
“Are you trying to look up the year?” (Denial)
Yes.
“Right now, Ken, you’re trying to look up what year it is?”
Yes.
“To prove to me it’s 2020?”
Yes.
3:26PM
Denial
“I’m really worried.”
Who else can I tell if not my husband, my best friend, my only person.
I am talking to him like he’s the one that will say ‘THIS IS A STROKE, CALL THE EMTS NOW.”
He says he’s fine. He’s so happy and calm.
He smiles at me.
3:28PM
“Can you hold my hand?”
He’s lying on his back now, the phone search abandoned.
He can’t see my hands from his position, me sat next to him. His head is flat on the floor and my hand is held just above his chest, palm up.
He reaches for my hand with his right hand.
“With your other hand.”
He goes to move his left arm. It’s not close to mine.
“Or I’m calling 9-1-1,” I add, my eyes on his.
My denial is gone.
He leans up on his right elbow a bit, you know, to see what he’s doing. I move my hand very near his.
He can’t get his left hand into mine despite how close the two now are. I stare at his hand hovering too far away as the finger on my other hand presses the already dialed emergency number.
It’s 3:30pm.
If you read this far you may be interested in what comes next. Turns out, this is a lot to relive, and so I’m breaking it into pieces. The song hits harder now than it once did, coming on at just the right time. The ICU room dark and quiet…except for the sounds of a hospital that make quiet impossible. A Blues playlist intentional and then we hear…
“Some times in our life…we all have pain, we all have sorrow…”
I’ll add that my husband, Ken, is fully aware of this blog and is now and always has been my earliest reader and biggest fan.
Also, his recovery is amazing and he’s doing great.
Read more here.
If you have questions, please ask them in the comments!
