Can You Act FAST?

Can you act FAST?

Better question: Can your partner, or another adult you live with, act FAST?

I’m 30 years old and just had a Transient Ischemic Attack (TIA) also known as a “ministroke.”

Wait – stroke?  I’m not in the typical age category (55 years and up.)  Nor do I have any of the typical risk factors, including high blood pressure, high cholesterol, or diabetes. But it still happened to me.

TIA is a temporary type of stroke, allowing me to have a quick and complete recovery, as well as be here to share this information. This “rehearsal emergency” mimicked a real one and no one can know the difference until it’s suddenly over. My family as a whole performed pretty well under pressure, but here are the things we would do differently.

Know the Signs

Remember the basic signs of stroke with the acronym FAST:

  • Face: Does one side droop?
  • Arms: Lift both arms. Are they uneven? Is coordination impaired or delayed?
  • Speech: Repeat a sentence. Is it slurred, stuttered, or suddenly unusual?
  • Time: Go! Now! Call 911 and get to the Emergency Room. Time is of the essence to minimize damage.

Not all of these symptoms need to be present. I did not have the hallmark symptom of one-sided or droopy reactions, but my speech and coordination were so impaired that we knew something was wrong.

More symptoms can be found on the Mayo Clinic’s page here.

Being familiar with the FAST acronym is a life-saver, but telling someone else about it may save your own life. In the middle of my ministroke, I could remember FAST but none of the details. Stuttering out, “What’s the thing?” wasn’t very helpful, though it was all I could manage at the time. Now we know it by heart.

Have information at hand

I keep my medical information in a document on my phone, but I didn’t have the coordination to use my phone during the emergency. Have a note on your phone’s lock screen so when you hand it to a nurse, they know immediately where to find the info. Better yet… I should have included the warning signs of severe side effects AND the number to call my doctor ASAP in plain sight. 

Keep that information up to date. I didn’t have my current treatment info on my phone anyway. We relied on the ER to know the signs of a severe reaction, but they can’t be expected to know everything.

Keep your after-visit summaries on the fridge. Your partner or another adult can grab it right away as you leave the house, and hand it to the nurses. That summary would have spelled out everything that they needed to know about my health. I’m in the habit of foregoing the printed copy at the end of an appointment for the sake of the trees… but for your life’s sake, forget the trees on this one!!

Have a communication pact

Being locked in my body and unable to speak coherent words induced a new level of intense panic. It’s so easy to take communication for granted until you’re suddenly compromised. Do you have an advocate that you can rely on to speak for you?

I always prided myself in having a strong relationship with my husband. We love guessing each other’s answers to “The Newlywed Game” style questions. Yet, in this crisis, we were at a loss. Fear of the unknown took over.

Have a pact with your partner to become each other’s voice. Decide on a plan to ask an endless array of simple yes/no questions. I couldn’t describe what was going on, but I could make enough sound or a basic gesture to confirm or dispute a statement. Being “heard” in any small way makes a huge difference.

DO THE ADVANCED DIRECTIVE. I don’t like thinking about it either, but this day convinced me that it has to be done.

Have a childcare plan

Of course, this would happen on a school night, on the evening of a snow day, when the roads were a nightmare. But you NEED a childcare plan. Whenever humanly possible… do not bring your kids along to the ER. You need an adult to go with you and be your advocate. This is not the time for modesty or stubborn independence… you have a village for a reason. Use your resources.

Please act FAST

For the sake of yourself and your loved ones, share this message. I’m thankful to have made it through what ended up being a temporary situation. There’s no way of knowing the severity of a stroke until seeking treatment. Every moment counts in a crisis like this. 

Rachel
Rachel grew up in a small town south of Madison, across the street from her high school sweetheart, Adam (although they didn’t actually meet until one fateful band and choir trip to New Orleans!) College and love took them to Milwaukee for a decade, where Rachel discovered her love for pastry arts. They are now settled back in Madison (much closer to the grandparents!) with two kids. Cassia and Kairos are seven years apart in age but already have an amazing and comical bond. Rachel has faced a confounding path of medical set-backs over the past few years, which have impacted every facet of daily life and plans for the future. With the tremendous support from her family, she strives to use her experience to shed light on the challenges faced by disabled parents.

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