THE NEAR and THE FAR

On Friday, May 19^th Ron was invited to speak at the Probus Club of Nanoose Bay, a mere five minutes away from our home. The club meets in St. Mary’s Church Hall on Powder Point Road at 9:15 am on the third Friday of each month. This social club caters to the interests of a diverse and active membership. Guests are welcome to attend. However, if you wish to join, you will have to put your name on a waiting list until a space becomes available.

After the morning meeting was finished and coffee break over, Ron spoke to the ninety-five members present, his subject in diametric opposition to the jovial, boisterous atmosphere in the Hall. He began by reading a short passage near the beginning of The Defiant Mind :

“Imagine. Imagine you suddenly see the world disappearing down a tunnel. Darkness surrounds a diminishing circle of light as it recedes into the distance. Light is leaving you.  . . .  All energy has left you. Your limbs feel limp, your body sags into itself like a bean bag. You begin to slide off the front edge of your chair. Suddenly. Involuntarily. You are in slow-motion free fall. Perhaps it’s resignation. Whatever happens will happen. There seems to be an inevitability about this event that you don’t comprehend but that you curiously accept. Your body and spirit have been deflated in an inexplicable way. You are experiencing a mystery. And you are terrified.”

Ron spoke for nearly an hour to a rapt audience and, when he finished, the applause he received was generous and genuine. One member even gave him a standing ovation.

The focus of Ron’s talk was to emphasize how common strokes are:

            “Every forty seconds someone          

             in North America suffers a stroke.

             Every four minutes someone in

             North America dies from a stroke.

             Stroke is the leading cause of disability

             In North America.”

Yet he also emphasized how little we know about the brain, at one point quoting from Michio Kaku’s The Future of the Mind:

            “You may have to travel twenty-four trillion miles, to the first

              star outside our solar system, to find an object as complex as

              what is sitting on your shoulders. The mind and the universe

              pose the greatest scientific challenges of all, but they share a

              curious relationship. On the one hand they are polar opposites.

              One is concerned with the vastness of outer space, where we

              encounter strange denizens like black holes, exploding stars,

              and colliding galaxies. The other is concerned with inner

              space. Where we find our most intimate and private hopes and

              desires. This mind is no farther than our next thought, yet we

              are often clueless when asked to articulate and explain it.”

However, argues Ron, if stroke survivors were encouraged to talk about their stroke experiences and their individual stories were recorded, over time, given the enormous number of people who are stricken world-wide by stroke, enough data could be collected and computed, to provide a statistically and scientifically reliable picture of the complex workings of the mind: Findings which could enlighten us all about the capabilities of the brain and teach us the importance of knowing ourselves; findings which could lead to brain therapy as well as physical therapy.

KUDOS FROM CALGARY

Ron - 

It usually takes me weeks to read a book (too busy to read - or too tired!) but I finished yours in a few days.  It was so compelling.  I have no experience with strokes so I didn’t know much about them.  In our family, heart attacks have taken their toll, but not strokes.

I had no idea they were so common nor that they caused so many deaths and disabilities.  Your personal accounts of the stroke and its repercussions for you and for Pat made me feel some of the pain and agony, frustration and desperation that you went through.  It was amazing to read of your recollections when the stroke happened, what you felt and thought.  And all the long months of recovery, your persistence and passionate will to overcome its effects.

I am very glad that your book has received so much praise and will help the public and the medical profession to understand this disease and the difficulties involved in treatment and rehabilitation.

After reading, I immediately phoned a friend from my outdoor club whose husband has recently experienced a stroke.  You will be pleased to know that one of the nursing staff had already told her about it and she had a copy.

Blessings,

Cheryl 

THE WHEELCHAIR and THE URINAL

On Thursday, April 27^th Ron was invited to speak to hospital therapists, nurses and administrators who work with stroke patients in Victoria. Two sessions were scheduled for the day–the first one in the morning at Royal Jubilee Hospital, and the second one, in the afternoon, at Victoria General Hospital. Both sessions were well attended with approximately sixty people crammed into the lecture room at Royal Jubilee, and approximately forty people at VGH. A few people attended both sessions and the feedback Ron received was excellent.

His presentation to both audiences was substantively the same. He opened his talks with a reading from Chapter Seven of THE DEFIANT MIND entitled “The Wheelchair and the Urinal.” This chapter recounts Ron’s arrival on the Rehab Ward of NRGH (Nanaimo Regional General Hospital) from the Acute Care Ward on the fourth floor:

            “Don’t fight me,” he said.

            “I’m not,” I said.

            Once again I heard that strangely garbled voice.

            “You are.”

            He held me in a modified bear hug, trying to transfer me from the stretcher to my new bed in the rehabilitation unit. Somehow he managed to get me sitting upright on the edge of the stretcher, then by gaining purchase under my arms he got me standing on two very wobbly legs, at which point I grabbed him with my left arm and clung to him like a bear cub to its mother.

            I was terrified. As soon as I was standing, my entire right side collapsed like an accordion. What was happening to me?

            “Relax,” he said. “You need to trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

            Trust. This was one of those words I would soon learn was critical to every phase of my recovery. Trust, and the need to be brave.

           

            For people like Ron, who a mere week before, had been a seemingly healthy, fully functioning, independent person, able to dress himself and drive his car, a stroke is a bolt out of the blue, traumatizing and brain bursting. The struggle to re-orient one’s self in the world with a damaged brain and a lost sense of belonging, becomes a major struggle. Wheelchairs and urinals, although helpful aids, can seem alien and even threatening.

            Because of the brain damage that stroke survivors have suffered their perceptions of the world may be radically altered. While some functions are lost, other senses may be heightened and some experiences can even be terrifying and cause people to feel they are going crazy.

            One of the people Ron contacted, after his formal rehabilitation had run its course, was a Dr. Hobson, a neurologist at Harvard University in Boston. Dr. Hobson suffered a stroke while on vacation in the south of France about sixteen years ago. Upon his return to the US, Dr. Hobson tried to persuade his Harvard colleagues that the experiences he had had during and post stroke had convinced him that, if the personal stories of stroke patients were recorded and written down, over time there would be enough anecdotal information collected that could provide valuable insights into the workings of the brain. Dr. Hobson’s post stroke experiences, when viewed from the perspective of current, scientific knowledge, would have been discounted as the impossible rantings of a lunatic. But, as Ron emphasized in his talk, stroke survivors have extraordinary experiences. He cited the example of the man who, after his first stroke, while watching the Beijing Olympics, had felt himself transported over the television signals to Beijing where he was able to observe the events “first-hand.” After his second stroke this same man acquired the ability to “taste colours.”

            Every person’s story is important but stroke survivors’ stories, if taken seriously and recorded, could have much to teach us about the marvel that is the three pound mystery in the heads of each one of us–the marvel that is the human brain.

IPPY GOLD MEDAL for THE DEFIANT MIND

Some days are full of happy surprises. Today was one of those.

From: Ronsdale Press

Sent: Friday, April 21, 2017 10:30 AM

Hi Ron,

Great news—The Defiant Mind was awarded an Independent Publisher Book Award (IPPY) gold medal in the “Autobiography/Memoir (Personal Struggle/Health Issues)” category.

We often see a boost in US sales with an IPPY award win, so we will be sure to tell our US sales people and media contacts. You might also share the news with your contacts.

We will receive by mail a certificate and a gold medallion, which we will give to you once they arrive. We will also receive gold medal seals for the front cover.

Congratulations! Your book could not be more fitting for the category, so we are pleased to see it take first place. Here is a link for further details and to see all the winners: http://www.independentpublisher.com/article.php?page=2172

Best,

Meagan Dyer

Publishing Assistant

Ronsdale Press

3350 W. 21st Ave.

Vancouver, BC V6S 1G7

p: 604-738-4688

f: 604-731-4548

e: ronsdale@shaw.ca

w: ronsdalepress.com

www.facebook.com/ronsdalepress

http://twitter.com/ronsdalepress

“WOMEN HELPING WOMEN”

Since 1987 the Peninsula Newcomers Club has been welcoming women who have recently moved to the Saanich Peninsula.  Their motto is “women helping women.” (It seems the ladies' men are left to fend for themselves, although they do get to share in the occasional dinner out, for example.) The club organizes activities to appeal to the chefs, the thinkers, the readers, the hikers, the adventurers and the artists in their midst.

Nonetheless, the emphasis of the club remains on the NEW.  After five years (or optionally after four) a club member is expected to be fully integrated in the community and must graduate in June. In this manner the club ensures that the membership and the executive are continually changing and re-charging.

Every second Thursday, from September to June, the full club contingent of seventy plus ladies lunch at Haro’s Restaurant in the Sidney Pier Hotel. The Sidney Pier itself is completely visible from the picture windows in the seaside dining room. While the ladies are enjoying their dessert, they are treated to an after luncheon speaker who talks on a subject deemed to be of interest to the members, which is why Ron was invited to last Thursday’s lunch. (Ron’s sister-in-law, Barbara Osaka is a home care nurse, and her sister, Pat Montgomery is a member of the club. Having both read The Defiant Mind, the sisters agreed that inviting Ron to address the Newcomers Club would be a very good idea.)

The event was unique for Ron in a couple of ways: It was the first time he had ever been an “after-dinner” speaker. In the early months and years after his stroke Ron found eating out disorienting. The clattering of plates and cutlery, the noise of different and simultaneous conversations, the hustle and bustle of waiters – all of the general hubbub in a restaurant which most of us take for granted and unconsciously tune out, can be overwhelming for a stroke survivor who has yet to re-learn this skill.

It was also the first time Ron had ever addressed an all female gathering.  Perhaps this is why he began his talk by recalling the moment when his stroke finally hit with massive force in the waiting room in the Emergency Department of the Nanaimo Regional General Hospital on November 19, 2012. After sliding off his chair onto the floor as his orb exploded, he was whisked into a treatment room where “the next thing I knew my clothes were being removed. Shoes and socks first. I didn’t have to lift a thing. My rear end and legs were raised, my pants came off. My torso sat up, my arms rose above my head and my shirt slipped off.  . . . ‘Aren’t you a lucky man,’ the head nurse said, you’ve got five women undressing you.”

After Ron’s talk was finished we decided to avoid the traffic on the Pat Bay Highway, the rush hour on the Callwood Crawl and the climb over the Malahat by taking a short cruise. We opted for the quiet, scenic drive to Brentwood Bay and arrived at the ferry dock just as the MV Klitsa approached. Then we remained on the ferry dock while the Klitsa unloaded and loaded and sped on its way. The vessel holds nineteen cars and we were the twenty-second in line. Knowing that the Klitsa would return in an hour or so, we rolled down the car windows part way, inhaled the salt air, listened to the cries of the sea gulls, watched the sunshine sparkle on the waves, the pleasure craft roll at anchor on the swells and savoured a little island time.

IS AN OCEAN BIGGER THAN A LAKE?

Each time Ron is asked to speak at a Stroke Recovery Group we are reminded of the tremendous physical and mental devastation that strokes can cause.  As Dr. Michael Hill states in his introduction to Volume II of BRAIN ATTACK The Journey Back :

“Recovering from a stroke may be the hardest thing one can ever do in one’s life . . .”

A copy of Volume II was given to Ron last Friday, March 31, by Dr. Alvin Yanchuk at the weekly meeting of the Victoria Stroke Recovery Association held in the Knox Presbyterian Church. Dr. Yanchuk is a stroke survivor and was a senior scientist in forest genetics with the British Columbia Forest Service. On March 20, 2015, at age 57, he had a stroke which left him unable to swallow, speak, read or answer the question “Is an ocean bigger than a lake?”

Two years later he is able to do all of the above and his recovery story is one of many featured in Volume II. Although Dr. Yanchuk’s physical body was left mostly unimpaired, except for issues with his balance, he had to learn how to speak all over again. Simply being able to pronounce letters such as ‘k’, ‘g’ and ‘z’ took him months.

Prior to his stroke Dr. Yanchuk “wrongly assumed” that strokes “only happened to people who did not take proper care of themselves.” He had been in good shape all his life, playing hockey and basketball, practicing karate, running, hiking and fishing. Now he realizes that EVERYONE “is a potential stroke victim.” Even today his doctors cannot say exactly what caused his stroke. However, he has learned that with luck, hard work and professional help, he can get close to being his normal self. That remains his goal. And, from what Ron and I observed last Friday, as he was leaving early for work, he was well on his way to doing just that.

BOOK DAY at the BC PARLIAMENT BUILDINGS

Book Day at the BC Legislature was inaugurated four years ago to celebrate the achievements of BC’s publishing industry by giving MLA’s and staff the opportunity to meet the province’s publishers, authors, writers’ festival directors etc. and to see the broad range of titles currently being produced. As the Honourable Shirley Bond (Minister of Jobs, Tourism, & Skills Training and the Minister Responsible for Labour) said in her mid-morning address to the gathering, the arts create 85,000 jobs in the province and add billions to BC’s economy.

(Please note: I have not fact checked the above statement. I do know that its accuracy might well be suspect, depending as it does on my memory and the poor sightlines and sound bites I was able to glean during the official ceremonies from my location at the back of the crowd in the middle of the Rotunda, outside the Hall of Honour. However, having been married to the founder of Oolichan Books for nigh on forty-eight years, I do understand how investments in the arts keep on giving. “Just think what Shakespeare still means to the British economy every single year,” Ron Smith often remarked to me as we shared our afternoon tea and crumpets.)

Ron Hatch, the publisher of Ronsdale Press in Vancouver, had invited Ron to be part of their display at this year’s celebration. Ronsdale’s table stood by a window near the front of the Hall of Honour, across from a table “manned” by two ladies from the BC Museum. The Hall of Honour was packed with people and some of the displays spilled out into the Rotunda.

Ron and I had set out for Victoria around 6:30 am. Despite the snow we encountered from the summit of the Malahat all the way to the entrance to Goldstream Park, we had hit mostly green lights and reached Langford in good time. However, without warning, we found ourselves jammed in the middle of the morning Callwood crawl. Crawl we did, reaching the Parliament Buildings at 9:10 am. Book Day had officially commenced at 9:00. After circumnavigating the Legislature Buildings, Ron was able to get directions from security, while I stayed with the car, double parked on Government Street. He was directed to an entrance where I was able to press a button at a security gate, and we were allowed to park in a loading zone across from the three handicap spots reserved for MLA’s. From here we were escorted by a cheerful female Security Guard through the bowels of the basement (definitely off limits to the public and any would-be terrorists) to the elevator and up to the main floor.

Wednesday, March 8, as we all know, was also International Women’s Day. Happily in BC, women are well represented in the Legislature. In fact, the top three spots of Lieutenant Governor, Premier and Speaker of the House are currently held by women. Both Judith Guichon and Linda Reid were present at the Book Day and both spoke during the official ceremonies. While Ron spent the morning meeting, greeting and shaking hands with the MLA’s including the Honourable Linda Reid and Her Honour, the Honourable Judith Guichon, I was left to wander the building on a private quest.

Book Day was not the first time that I had been inside the BC Parliament Buildings. I remembered I had been there once before, many, many years ago. For some reason the year 1972 came to mind. I do not know why I was there then. I only know that I was there on my own. I began to visualize a large stained glass window celebrating Zoroaster. I remember thinking how odd it was that Zoroaster, of all the unlikely historical figures to be honoured in the BC Legislature, had been given his very own window. I surmised it would even have been strange in 1898 when the building was officially opened. Indeed it seems odder today when persons of Middle Eastern origin are likely to be viewed with suspicion and not respect. So, having time on my hands, I determined to locate this particular stained glass window.

I wandered about, studying many stained glass windows before approaching a Security Guard on the second floor, above the Rotunda. Casually I asked if he knew of a window dedicated to Zoroaster. He shook his head and suggested that it might be stored somewhere in the bowels of the building, in the basement, perchance? A reasonable explanation I thought and tagged along with a group of tourists who had just arrived on the second floor. Seeing another Security Guard, I abandoned the group and approached this man, asking in a whisper if he knew of a window dedicated to Zoroaster. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Never heard of a window like that.” 

I rejoined the tourists. When the guide asked if anyone had any questions I put up my hand and asked if she knew of a window dedicated to Zoroaster. “Yes,” she said and pointed to the roped off staircase leading to the Legislative Public Gallery. “It’s up there but you can’t go up the stairs. They’re blocked off when the legislature isn’t sitting. But you should be able to see the window from the bottom of the staircase.”

I felt peculiarly buoyant. I ambled over to the designated spot and looked up. My elation vanished. There was a stained glass window but it was a puny pint-sized model with the name ZOROASTER written in the middle. It was definitely not like the full-sized, golden rayed window I remembered. Next to this puny window, sharing the landing, there was another one identical  to the first, except for the name PERICLES written in the middle. I moved sideways, craned my neck and counted three more pint-sized windows dedicated to MINOS, LYCURGUS and CICERO in ascending order up the stairs. I was floored. How could my memory have proved so accurate and inaccurate at the same time? As I pondered this paradox, I remembered a line from Ron’s book:

“The mind is a gifted field of play.”

Somewhat cheered up I rejoined the crowd in the Hall of Honour and returned to the Ronsdale table where I got to shake hands with the Honourable Shirley Bond and swap stories with her about the wonderful times we had spent at Story Time on a Saturday morning in the Prince George Public Library, way back, when we were kids.