Mind of my Stroked Brain

I have shared sometime back about my current thinking about God. When I was young, maybe till end of school, God was what was told all along by everyone around and there was a faith. Blind maybe, but there was a belief. The usual visits to temples, rituals, ceremonies, etc. There was a sort of unquestioning compliance if you will. I think in college days, it was a very distracted time and distanced/ avoided topic. I think some kind of faith existed but was neither expressed or relied upon. I think early adulthood - maybe a decade and half at least, there was no belief or questioning. Just leading a life seperated from such beliefs. I think this was also the time when a lot of rationality and practicality set in. Maybe 3-4 years before my stroke, a sort of curiosity and questions arose. None of them found an answer but it made me pursue things and stuffs that are usually grouped under the broad definition of "spiritual" pursuits. And then my stroke happened. Many thoughts and

What I have observed/ learnt over the last 3+ years, is that the body is extremely resilient. It has many many safety nets and emergency mechanisms to stop it from perishing unnaturally. It needs way more external interference or significant internal damage to give up. But I have assumed that the mind is pretty finicky. It can make us do voluntary damage to the body and cause it to perish if it wanted to. Or be cheerful and make the body healthy and buoyant. In the past, I have felt both. Felt like ending it - but unable to. Happy and still no difference to the body. I have written in the past about finding meaning. Finding a purpose, etc. However, I have found nothing. A few years ago, I used to be a compulsive planner. I used to have a plan for life and even a spreadsheet to boot. Didn't work that way did it. I don't have anything to look forward to. It's not that I don't feel happy or sad or things like that. I feel all of it - more than necessary sometimes. But I am

I feel I have hit a ceiling with my rehab. I have not yet plateaued on the general overall improvements. That will go on with it's snail's pace for some time more. I feel I have hit the ceiling with general strength in the body. I have been at strengthening the left hand and leg for atleast 1.5 years now. After the initial development of strength, I feel it has stopped sometime back. It is still slowly improving wrt flexibility, etc. But strength has stopped a while back - no matter what and how much I exercise it. When I had the stroke - just prior ie, it was very common for me to attend a function (like a wedding) and have a very big meal - I mean a seriously big meal, polish off everything on the plate (the plantain leaf most often) and then have 2 full glasses of water. A glass is usually 250 ~ 300ml. That is my meal now 200 ~ 300ml! Sure, I have protein shake, oatmilk, rice, vegetables etc. But it is 300ml. The label on the box says it is enough and more protein for me. Ho

I had written some time back about the entertainment every time I had an x-ray in the hospital. Unfortunately, there is a downside to the whole matter. When the x-ray guy leaves, he will just leave. I will be in some vague position, the sheets will have been removed, the pillows moved etc. Basically he will just leave. No thought that he should try to put things back the way they were when he came. It is not just the guy with the xray, pretty much everyone in the hospital is like that. The physiotherapist will come, move everything including the bed position for their job and just leave. The nurses will come - whatever the job - feed, vitals check, etc. They will do their work and leave. It bothers me no end. Definitely because I can't move and put back things nor can I ask anyone to do so. Maybe others don't feel as much for that reason. But I also think it is hardwired. When I was very young (I don't remember the age, but it was quite young), my father used to have a cupb

When I was in the hospital - over 3 years back, I was in a land of hallucinations - when I was in the ICU. One of the experiences I had many times was this: There would be aliens (green people) who would carry me somewhere. They would take me to a big black rock and tie me up tightly. I would not be able to move. It would seem like they were ready for some sort of sacrifice. But suddenly they would go away.  It didn't look like an altar , but they would take me each time to that black rock and tie me up. It would be very painful. Excruciatingly painful!  I remember wishing they finish the sacrifice but they would just go away. After a very long time, a shadow would move to a specific place (reminded me of McKenna's gold each time). After that happened, the green people would come back, untie me and take me away... No recollection of the experience after that till it happened again sometime... Few weeks back, I was back in the ICU. Enjoying the pleasures of familiar turf. After

When I sit on the wheelchair in the evening, I move my right leg a few times. The leg will be lying lifeless. I can't feel it or move it initially. I have to lift it a few times using my left leg and move it a few times. It sometimes responds and sometimes not. If it doesn't work, I have to leave it alone for sometime and try again later. At some point it stiffens when lifted. It still doesn't know how to loosen - so have to rely on gravity to bring it back down slowly. After that, very slowly, I am able to lift it a few times - relying on gravity each time to bring it back down. It's a amusing thing to experience and watch happening. However, that is what I can see. The real action and spectacle is happening in the brain actually. When I am unable to feel the leg, the neurons are not connected. The passive movements and the intention means it is causing the neurons to frantically be trying to find a path - running helter-skelter, through trial and error each time. Some

Many years back, I had read this book called "Man's search for meaning" by "Vicktor Franknel" He was a holocaust survivor and a psychologist if I remember right. It is about why few folks survived the extreme circumstances of the holocaust and most could not. It's a very good book - highlighting the need to find meaning - a sort of a purpose to struggle through everything. I have often tried to think of what is my purpose. How do I find meaning through all this - the hand that life has dealt. The truth is I am yet to find that answer. Sure there is a role I am playing - a husband, a father, a son, a brother, a friend to many, so on, and those roles I am trying to fulfill what I can. But I have found no bigger purpose or meaning. There probably is none, I am not sure. Everyday is the same - wake up, feeds, physio, feeds, exercise, feeds, sit on wheelchair, exercises, feeds, move back, bath, feeds, sleep.  It is peppered with bathroom breaks and cleaning as ne