The Fear

Hi, I'm Michael, and I'm a stroke survivor.

Most days, things go smoothly, but every now and then, something happens that throws you off balance. It could be a minor incident or a major setback, but it always brings along a sense of fear. And to be honest, it's quite dreadful. I recently experienced one of those moments.

Prior to the stroke, I used to attend F45 sessions five times a week. F45 is a CrossFit-style gym where I would participate in two cardio sessions, two strength sessions, and a longer hybrid session. However, when the stroke struck, that routine came to an abrupt halt. After a four-month break, I felt the desire to resume my fitness regimen.

Considering that I had undergone heart surgery as part of my stroke recovery, I decided to cautiously ease myself back into the F45 routine. I started with the strength sessions only, excluding the cardio sessions for the time being. The trainers at F45 Balwyn have been incredibly supportive, keeping a close eye on me and checking in during the sessions, especially if I pause or appear fatigued. I must give a big shout-out to the F45 Balwyn team for their amazing support.

Presently, I wear an Apple Watch to monitor my training progress. It includes a BPM (beats per minute) monitor, and I've set a limit for myself to stop exercising if my heart rate reaches 160 BPM.

Now, picture this: at the end of a particularly energetic strength session, I glanced at my watch and noticed that my heart rate had spiked to 171 BPM during the workout. It was the most strain I had put on my heart since the surgery. I experienced an unusual sensation in my left chest, which didn't feel like a muscular ache. Sitting in my car outside the gym, I found myself trying to self-diagnose - was it merely fatigue or something else?

I started the car and headed home, which happened to be in the same direction as Box Hill Hospital, where I stayed for six days last year during my stroke. As I drove down Whitehorse Road, I deliberated whether I was genuinely at risk or if it was all in my head. Should I go straight to the Emergency Department or go home and see how I feel? I didn't want to spend half a day in the hospital unnecessarily, considering I had things to attend to. Eventually, I made the decision to go home.

However, I had overlooked the fact that I would be alone at home for the next few hours. My wife had to leave for work shortly after I arrived home. And that's when the fear crept in.

Should I have gone straight to the hospital? Is it safe for me to be alone at home right now? After being such a burden on my wife last year due to the stroke, I didn't want to cause unnecessary alarm over something that might be trivial. I also didn't want to make her late for work.

Let me tell you, coming to terms with the fact that I'm not invincible, despite having lived in Japan for several years, backpacked across Europe, served in the army, and always been independent and self-reliant, has been one of the most difficult lessons I've had to learn.