The Hidden Disability
Hi, I'm Michael, and I'm a stroke survivor.
A defiant decision – embracing life post-stroke
Just a shade under four weeks after my stroke, my wife and I had reservations for dinner and a tour of the Picasso exhibition at the National Gallery of Victoria (NGV). Attempts to obtain tickets for previous exhibitions had ended in disappointment due to their rapid sell-out rates. Thus I was determined that we would attend - defying the constraints of my stroke. This occasion would be my bold reemergence into the world.
Confronting reactions – unveiling the unspoken
Arriving at the side entrance of the NGV, we joined a gathering of attendees, many of whom I recognised and who greeted me warmly. Frustratingly, I couldn't respond verbally, leading me to frequently display my STOP card.
Their reactions resonated with me on a multitude of emotional levels. Their facial expressions painted a vivid picture of emotions – shock, sorrow, disbelief, and at times, even terror. In those moments, I clung to my composure, as I saw the raw reality of my situation mirrored in their faces. Holding back tears, I put on a façade of strength, nodding and using facial cues to validate the truth of my experience.
Fortunately, their ensuing response usually involved some form of embrace – from a reassuring arm rub to a heartfelt bear hug.
Solitary reflections – navigating the exhibition
As we journeyed through the exhibit, I found myself gradually drifting away from my wife and friends, who engaged in conversations about the artworks. Beyond my inability to participate in their discussions, the whole event was like an out-of-body experience. I moved along at my own pace, pausing intermittently, unable to engage when someone nearby commented on a painting. I imagine it resembled the detachment a deaf or mute person might experience in a bustling crowd – surrounded by others, yet existing in one's own world.
Triumph in vulnerability – conquering the evening
Though the evening remained emotionally demanding on multiple fronts, I regard it as a success. I conquered my fear. Witnessing people I know openly express their emotions and support underscored the significance of the occasion. I took a big step back into living that night.
Remember, you can’t always see the disability.
