I

stood in the bathroom doorway of our Vancouver Island

home watching my wife, Pat, prepare to go out to lunch with

friends. As I leaned against the doorjamb and took in an

eyeful of the woman I have loved for close to half a century,

I felt a bit odd. Not nauseated or faint, simply odd. Perhaps

a bit weak. Nothing that a brief lie-down wouldn’t cure.

the image of my uncooperative hand

still nagged at the back of my mind.

And I still felt odd ... perhaps a little

light-headed or dizzy.

At about 4 p.m., Pat came home.

“You’re still in bed!” she remarked.

“Yes,” I admitted.

Another hour passed, and I still felt

odd. Finally Pat insisted we head for

the hospital. At last, I thought as we

were shown into an exam room, we

can put an end to this nonsense.

The doctor asked for a detailed ac-

count of what had been happening.

Then he performed a number of tests.

He asked me to touch my nose and

then follow his finger with my eyes. He

told me to count backward by sevens.

He had me squeeze his two fingers

with each hand. He tested my reflexes.

I passed every test, so I thought

what I’d been experiencing was just a

temporary malfunction of the wiring.

“I’d like to keep you in for observa-

tion,” the doctor said.

My jaw dropped. “Didn’t I just pass

your tests?”

“You might be having what we call

a stuttering stroke,” he explained. “It

happens over several hours, perhaps

even several days. You’ve likely had

I bid my wife au revoir and drifted

to sleep. When I awoke, two hours had

passed. I made my way to my study,

sat down at my computer, and noticed

my right hand was sluggish.

This was definitely strange. I had

developed the habit of searching the

Web for the peculiar things happening

to my body as I got older, so I typed

stroke into Google. I can’t say why I

typed stroke and not flu or Lyme dis-

ease or heart attack.

I found the common symptoms:

sudden numbness or confusion,

trouble seeing or walking, dizziness or

severe headache. I also found several

tests: Can you raise your arms? Can

you smile?

I lifted my arms above my head. I

smiled. So I told myself, You’re not

having a stroke.

Still feeling tired, I went back to

bed. I had the flu, that was it, although

THE LIGHT STARTED

TO DISAPPEAR.

“I’M DYING,” I SAID.

I WAS TERRIFIED.

Reader’s Digest Health

106 july/august 2019