It's good to put a face to a name

When I first had my stroke and started promoting awareness, something I'd get whenever I'd go to the hospital is

'What's yours name?'

'Umm Elizabeth ashmore'

'Oh!! You're the young girl who had a stroke, I saw you on the news..'

(As they get closer to my face asif there being patronising) 

'Really? Oh that's embarrassing'

Or..

'Oh my daughter reads your blog!'

'Great, it's something I've been writing since day one, it can be depressing but it's all my feelings..'

'No I think it's fantastic, we've had so many younger people visit us to see if they've got a risk of stroke'

'Yeah I usually tell my friends to stop smoking, but it's obviously too cool for them to do..'

I never thought I'd become so 'well known' especially not this...

Sometimes I really regret it, telling the world you're life story, but

I'm so happy I'm promoting that it can happen to anyone at any age ( even animals) believe it or not..

Not just 'over 65's' 

I physically can't anymore

I've tried and tried to work on my hand, I even hide it so people don't give me the scared look asif i'm not human, i've even tried to walk looking upwards/ straight ahead just so people think i'm really happy and seem normal..

`doctors tell me I 'look amazing'
and assume i'm recovering better than they thought I would,
so what, you're telling me you thought i'd die in the bed I was stuck in for 3 horrific months of my life. Wondering, why me?, will I be normal?, why does everyone keep telling me that i'll get better?...

You know what,
well you don't and wont because it's not happened to you..
but I genuinely thought I was going to recover to the point of being normal again, I thought and actually was kidding myself thinking
'you can walk now lizzie, you're nearly there' Now I know and realise, there is no 'there' it's just life and will be forever until I do eventually die.

I actually replied to my doctor saying
'yeah I might look amazing, but it's only because people expect me to be brave and strong, not as weak as I actually am..
I actually stumbled here, and sat in the waiting room nearly crying because some woman laughed.

sometimes I have to listen to music while I walk or before I go anywhere just to give myself hope that I wont have another stroke.

I cry when I hear about other people that have had strokes, to the point where I just want to go to them and give them the biggest hug.
but not use the same 'it'll be okay don't worry'
because thats not the case, is it? look at me,
I can't use my arm, nor can I walk properly to the point where people don't laugh or stare.


'Blimey, you're young! how awful'
yep, thats me.. take a picture, it might last longer, but you wont physically see the damage it's done to my brain (the biggest organ in my body)
but weakest...


'You're doing so well'
i'm not doing anything, i'm just trying to be who I was before and to be normal, whatever that is.


I tried to outsmart the doctors and nurses,
I only tried because I wouldn't be a failure and didn't want them to feel like they'd won.

My recovery starts now

This time last year I was unable to walk and was laying in my hospital bed after 3 months of shock worry and confusion towards why it happened to me, 

'Why can't I be normal?'

'Why can't I walk?'

'I've never smoked so why me?'

'Maybe it's karma...'

The unknowing hurt more than the fact I was incapable of living a normal life, 

This time last year was my final night in the place I longed to leave from day one..

'Lizzies home countdown!!'

Was next to my bed.. 

I'd longed for the day, the day I could set foot in my house, live my life, Start my recovery.. 

'When you get home your recovery slows down' 

Mine sped up, I was gaining confidence and so much more determination to get better and be Lizzie again, 

Just not the crazy girl who would drink loads and stumble in heels

My mum packed up all my stuff, smiling so much as she knew in the morning or afternoon the next day, I'd be returning to the house, a bit scared behind that smile as she knew the house wasn't 'stroke survivor proof' 

(Rails, slip proof matts)...

I cried as she left me that night, as I was so nervous to return to a place I'd only visited twice in 3 months, 

'No one will visit me'

'I had a stroke in the bed I'll be in..'

'I can't even walk to go shopping'

'I'm scared mum'

And it was fine... 

The shock was overcome within months until I was ready to walk outside with physios that'd visit me weekly.. 

'Right there's a carers organisation that can visit you at home, help you shower and stuff liz'

' no mum I'm not 80'

'Yes but you can't walk so you need help..'

It was all arranged; the nurses, the physio, the ot visiting, the medication routine.. 

'I'll miss pauline' 

(The crazy old lady who was my entertainment opposite me)

'Can I walk to the entrance tomorrow?!?'

'No love, you need a wheelchair, you can't walk yet..'

Again I cried,

'Great, I'm gonna be stuck in that thing getting fat and laughed at'

When I returned home it was the best day of my life

I learnt to walk and do what I used to do.. 

I learnt to cook l learnt to gain independence and started to feel a bit normal 

I missed doing what I did before 

But this was the start on my long journey 

To recover and become who I am now..

Just don't

I'm not a poor 'thing' I'm a person who had a major stroke..

I'm not 'lucky to be alive' I'm just lucky to of recovered as much as I have 

I'm not 'unfortunate' I'm just very unlucky and stupid for not recognising the signs 

I'm not 'positive' we a get down days mine are just worse and I get upset more than you would

I try my hardest to battle with everyday, getting over the fact I'm completely different to every other 21 year old, getting over the days I stumble when I walk and feeling lost if I forget where I am, I'm just a young girl who had a stroke.. I'm not an alien nor am I proud I've had one, I'm proud I've recovered this much in such a short space of time, dealing with the fact I might not ever use my arm again trying to remember the last time I actually did, regretting the fact I didn't run the day before my stroke or walk a marathon just like everyone else, with no splint, no leg ache and no regrets in what I've become. 

My new life

I'm not saying it's going to last and I'm not saying it's going to be easy, but I am saying that it's been a goal and something that this exact time last year I cried into my mums arms saying 

'I'll never be normal mum, I'll be a freak'

'I'll never walk again and I'll never go back to uni'

Today as the majority of you know, I sat in a crit that my old class had, only for an hour to see if I'd be able to cope; mentally, physically and emotionally..

As I stumbled to uni, reflecting on how I'd always struggle while trying to hold so much stuff, remembering how I once strutted through the college entrance thinking I looked good. 

I was so anxious. The stares I recieved even the fact I missed a red light to cross the road and people in cars looked confused as to why I didn't run to catch it in time..

I sat in the canteen waiting for my tutor who's helping me go back and re learn, 

I had so many of my old class mates give me huge hugs, as I walked through to the old room shaking and hiding my arm, I sat on a white chair listening to everyone talk about their work; how they made it, the purpose and So on... 

I sat there so nervous as if I was gonna jump up and show my work, I then looked at the floor and realised I can't, I can't do that yet...

I had a gut feeling where if I could I would of cried, I held it in and sat up. 

I just watched people discussing and  using both arms to talk with vigorous hand movements constantly repeating in my brain 

'Come on brain, you used to make my arm do that..'

Of course it didn't work, I sat there in a pale splint sipping a drink through a straw thinking about every swallow I took..

Smiling at everyone who glanced at me.

When I walked home I was at the rush hour of pushing college students and hearing their conversations about there day, slagging off people.

I walked slowly but aiming to walk fast enough to look like them, gripping my arm smiling as I walked remembering that I've overcome something I've aimed for, something I honestly never thought I'd achieve again..

This is the start of my new life 

'Don't let the stroke become your life lizzie' 

'You'll get there I promise'

It's not the end of my recovery nor is it the middle, Infact it's probably just the 

Beginning because recovery is for life..

I wouldn't say brave is the right word..

'Dad she's so strong, like still able to smile and run around with  Megan as if nothing's wrong'

'I don't know if I'd say brave is the right word if I'm honest..'

'I know I can't think of any other way to describe it but it seems suitable'

'I think we get thrown different things in life and have to almost get on with it'

'Yeah I feel like it's the motivation and determination that gets us through each day, strong is definitely what she is' 

Earlier I watched 'the c word'

A programme based on a true story of a lady battling breast cancer at 28,

I cried at the first 30minutes because of how my mum had to deal with the cancer scare and how I remember being on the beach at night and receiving a phone call off my stepdad that broke my heart 'liz, I don't want to scare you but your mums in hospital and has cancer'

I remember being in shock and crying hysterically to my friends who of course didn't know how to react, 

Blanking out the fact my mum had to deal with loosing a kidney and her hair, living with the thought that she might die for 6 months of her life..

I remember the day I said I'd sit through her first chemo session with her really scared because I didn't know what to expect, she sat in this pale chair and was wired up to this bag of fluid, she patiently sat back in the chair knowing she'd be there for atleast 4hours, pumped of a chemical that will destroy her body but possibly recover it, 

I remember her crying to herself after she'd woken up 3weeks in, because she'd woken up in a pillow of her hair, she'd have a towel on her pillow every night, shaking away piles of hair getting fuller everyday..

I remember coming home from being out with mates during the week and seeing her spread out across the sofa, pale as anything and so weak her arm dangling over to touch the floor with a needle just wrapped up, next to a sick bucket that'd be emptied every 5 minutes.

I remember her looking at me and asking 'Liz, are you scared of me?' Because I wouldn't come home till 10 most nights, 

I remember the day she sat in the kitchen and had her head shaved, watching her hair drop to the floor, she cried but I cried in desperation of her to just be happy again..

She was getting married just before chemo ended, knowing she'd be bald and look different, but still having so much courage to walk down the aisle 

I remember the talks I'd get from mates about how they'd had grandparents who had cancer telling me it'd be fine, telling me I'm strong for dealing with it..

Everyday I thought to myself 'is my mum okay, is she going to die? Will she get better? 

Selfishly forgetting my mum had to deal with living with cancer. The battle and the struggles the loss of confidence and ability to just feel comfortable being bald.

She ordered some wigs from some shop, mainly for her wedding, to try to look 'normal' even though she was still perfect, she put this strange plastic haired wig on and just looked at me asking what I thought, we both laughed cause she looked awful.

I remember shouting at her when she told me she was giving up chemo after her fourth cycle when she was meant to have six, she just responded saying 'Liz I feel to weak and it's going away' I just called her selfish and cried on the sofa thinking that itd kill her for not finishing the chemo..

The c word programme made me realise how selfish I was towards her, throughout her recovery and illness.. I cried as the lady had her hair cut off as it bought back memories of my mum. 

I remember her walking down the aisle to my stepdad and having the biggest smile on her face, pushing aside the fact she was bald and had cancer, remembering that day was all about her, no one else.. It was well deserved and she still looked as beautiful as ever.. 

'You're so brave'

It's not bravery it's determination to recover and live the life you've been given for a reason, the fact you've been given a second chance..

Me my mum and little sister have fought battles to live not because we were brave but because we realised life is worth living and it means more than anyone will realise, you motivate yourself to push through everyday wondering what will happen and how you'll get through it..

My first trip

Today was the first time since I was laughed at that I actually stepped on a train on my own, since my stroke.. To my dads and walked to his,

I lost all my confidence to do this when I was laughed at by a random man because I wobbled and nearly fell when standing up to get off the train,

No one understands how hard it is when you've lost all independence and confidence to actually do things you did weekly before...

I literally was so scared that id prepared in my mind; what id see, how I would get on and off, what I'd do if I fell, how I'd walk out the station and so on...

It was the best experience I've had since I first went to the hospital alone, I felt confident happy and as if I had achieved another goal in my recovery

If my phone hadn't died, it'd be much better because I could of listened to my music not some randoms loud headphones glaring out an awful song..

I walked out the station feeling so proud of myself and feeling like i had completed a level on a really hard game, Infact even bigger, I felt like I'd re walked my 10k, and taken my first steps again..

As little as it sounds, when you loose all independence and confidence you actually loose everything..