I work in a field where we’re known to “eat our young”.  I know that is not a flattering statement to say about a profession, but it’s truer than we want to admit. As a police officer you either figure it out or find yourself looking for a new job.  We smugly say “Yep, being a police officer is not for everybody” and give out walking papers like they were business cards.

Part of me is very happy there are high standards for police professionals.  With all the national scrutiny and the national dialogue not friendly with law enforcement, it does take a certain type of person to do this job. I used to be this type of guy.  Post stroke I’m having to find my way back to  who I used to be.  I feel I’ve been evicted of my identity.

For example, writing used to be therapeutic for me.   Now it’s a chore.  Simple police reports require more re-edit that I am used to doing.  Goofy.

I hope my grammar and syntax fluidity will come back too.  I’m having a challenge with homophones and spelling.  I know the different between there, their, they’re and by, buy, bye; but my writing hasn’t displayed my knowing!

My friends tell me my speech is getting better…. by the week…. I saw a friend, whom I’ve known over 20 years, and commented he could not even really hear my verbal gaffes…. barely.  He is kind.  Improvement is good.

I’ve found a problem with me using gender and pronouns.  I’ve caught myself referring to ‘she’ when I’m talking about a ‘he’ … And vice-versa.  My spelling  is showing some inadequacies too.  I could not, for the life of me, spell ‘mannequin’.  I couldn’t even get my auto-correct to find the word for me…. I was able to find the spelling by my on-line thesaurus…. This week I forgot how to pronounce “opinion”… Which is odd, since I have some many of them…. Kinda funny for me, actually.

My doc tells me there isn’t much treatment (except time) and continue my therapies.  I feel like I have to continually explain myself.   We have protocol for physical maladies, but nothing for unseen neurological damage.  There is no cast to remove or there is no bruise to heal or there are no stitches to remove.  The healing is invisible.  This is a hard concept for “that guy”.

I will get my language and grammar and speaking capacities back.  The problem is I don’t know when.  The speech pathologist seemed to think of months… not years.  That was encouraging.  Yet, I have not been kind to myself.  I have been “that guy” to myself.  You know, the one who says “Just suck it up”.

The day I was hospitalized my language was about 30%.  It was apparent to anybody communicating with me.  A month later I was 75% (maybe).  Two and a half months later I’m 80% back.  These percentages are just my estimates.  The docs won’t give me percentages.

I have a stammer and stutter that I never had.  My speech issue exacerbate by stress– And this is a stress job.  (My internal “that guy” dialogue is beating me up for whining too much as I write this.)  Damn the humanity it all….

I still maintain I am blessed.  And I am humbled by this experience.  AFGO (Another freaking grow opportunity)….

Of course, Your mileage may vary

Dr Jay