The most difficult blog post i've written

When I first came round after my stroke, 'woke up & realised what had happened'  I refused to look in any mirror if someone said ''Liz here you go you've got food on your face look!'' and wave a mirror at me i'd cry and refuse to look at myself, i'd literally just sit and try to deny that anything had happened too me.

For 3 months I just used too stare at the other patients feeling low and wanting to just walk out and walk home, obviously denying the fact I couldn't actually walk and i'd get to the end of the ward and probably die from being so exhausted.


It got to the week before I left hospital (when the no make-up selfies craze was around) and I decided to look in a mirror, I felt so crap and so scared but I wanted to just do my make-up, I honestly thought it would make me the person I was before, but obviously it didn't.
I was so happy when I managed to do my make-up, because I could actually leave the house looking okay-ish. And I knew it was possible with one hand,

So this is the first make-up selfie I took 3months after my stroke.
I've decided to put it next to a recent photo of me, to compare the face droop that I clearly had ( in the first photo) ( bottom of my blog)


I remember just moving the curtain round and a nurse literally looked at me and looked so shocked ''WOW Lizzie, you look beautiful!''

I just sat back in my bed and burst into tears looking at the photo and crying endlessly feeling like my face would be stuck like this forever. Luckily I can smile and it's only noticeable when i'm tired or upset (most of the time)


I don't know if I was more happy about the fact I could do my make-up or the fact I had looked in a mirror.



I didn't put make-up on again until I properly left hospital because thats when i'd get wheeled into Canterbury in my wheelchair.



The reason this blog post was the most difficult one to write is because I can remember the feeling I had inside when I first smiled 'properly' and the first time I looked into the mirror and actually managed to paint my face.
Too me, that was the start of my recovery.



Once again it took me until I realised and remembered how good Radio one actually was while sitting on my sofa to actually listen to music for the first time, I had a radio in my room and my ex would always come in asking to turn it on, but i'd just cry when he did feeling like absolute shit.
Now it's all I do, when I walk, when I feel down and when I feel myself getting angry.





To those who actually read these i've finished this one so you can relax, you no longer have to read my crappy recovery stories, until next time ;) gutted.