A criminal barrister in his early 50s recounts how his life was turned upside down by a stroke, and offers some advice.
It is 4.30am. I have to leave for court in four hours’ time. I can’t sleep, but it isn’t the imminent case that keeps me awake. My left arm has pins and needles. The sensation isn’t going away. In fact, it’s spreading to my leg. I put up with this for a long time, expecting it to stop. Then I settle for hoping it will stop, until eventually my wife is dragged from sleep by my increasing restlessness. We debate the situation. I insist forcefully that I’m fine to go to court, but it turns out that I can’t walk. I can’t even stand unsupported. By now, my entire left side is alive with strangeness, yet oddly dead. We agree that the court had better wait. Soon afterwards I am in A&E. Our lives are changing irrevocably as the minutes pass. The Acute Stroke Ward beckons, and my family and I enter uncharted territory.