Feeling out of place when you are entering into a new situation is par for the course, especially when it comes to high school. These feelings of being on the outside looking in intensified when during the first semester, of my first year at my new school, I had a stroke. It doesn’t happen the way Hollywood dramas would have you believe, I didn’t lose the ability to walk and fall to the ground with a sudden gasp, at least not right away; it started simply with not being able to read. During my first period English class while we finished our reading of A Scarlet Letter  my left eye lost focus, the letters shifted and they did not seem quite right but I didn’t think anything of it.Unfortunately my problems didn’t end there, by my second period I was having trouble speaking and my face began to droop the instructor felt it necessary for me to make my way to the nurse. She looked me over and at first thought it was simple dehydration but within 30 minutes I had been taken to the local hospital and then rushed over to Cooks Children’s to have my care provided by a pediatric neurologist named Dr. Marks.

Next came the fun part, I was diagnosed with non-hereditary hemiplegic migraines presenting with stroke like symptoms. The neurologist had me taken home for a round of in home therapy unfortunately I was soon back in the hospital due to my inability to improve my motor functions, in fact my motor functions deteriorated even further as soon I wasn’t able to get out of bed without help . So I began physical therapy, but I couldn’t help but feel hopeless as my own assessment of the situation was grim at best. Thoughts about what I would do with the rest of my life if I could no longer walk, began their ever unstoppable crawl into my conscience, and succumbing to anger both at my situation and my inability to solve my own problems began to lash out. I would ignore or yell at the people helping me and shut down around my parents.

However, there was a glimmer of hope as my therapy made progress, soon I was walking with a cane rather than a walker, then the cane became a mere memory as I could finally make my way on my own. Soon after, my limp left me and my ability to move came back, with my mobility came my upbeat attitude and jovial outlook on life. Through this experience I have realized that the thoughts about my life have changed for the better, I understand what it means to roll with the punches and get back on the horse. To quote a little blue fish who simply wanted to help “Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming.” and speaking from experience that’s really the only thing you can do.