Prayers and pasta: A year after leaving hospital post-stroke, life's full of simple joys

All journeys begin some place and my greatest adventure began a year ago when my wife, Donna, wheeled me out of the front door of Sea Pines Rehabilitation Hospital in Palm Bay, Florida, to drive me home.

I was unable to walk except a few feet at a time. They made me get and take home a brand-new walker.

I was unable to swallow, not even to control my own saliva. I was tethered to a pole via a feeding tube that attached to my stomach through a hole in my abdomen.

Talking was difficult. I was limited to a few sentences at a time.

But it was Dec. 13 and I was going home for Christmas, some five weeks after being rushed to the emergency room after suffering a brain stem stroke.

Once I got home, I put the walker away — eventually giving it to Sea Pines — and forced myself to walk without it, one step at a time, never far from a couch or chair or someplace to grab should I start to fall. Tied to a pole, I never got far anyway.

Counting miles walked, calories enjoyed

After a few weeks, we got rid of the pole in favor of perfectly balanced boxes of formula that would give me 375 calories through the feeding tube four times a day. Absent the pole, I began a walking program — first making it to the corner down the street, then further and further. In 2019, I have walked more than 650 miles on the beach, along walking trails, across the causeways, and in parks.

But I was still taking nourishment through the tube until three weeks ago, when my ability to swallow suddenly returned.

Maybe suddenly is the wrong word. I had been swallowing a little here and there, but never enough to sustain me or even to show much progress during controlled tests in local hospitals.

I ate Thanksgiving Day dinner with my family.

I ate pizza off the buffet at The Pizza Gallery & Grille at The Avenue. Several pieces.

I ate my homemade pasta.

I’ve been eating things I never enjoyed before, like Greek yogurt. Now everything is amazingly delicious.

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Best of all, I was able to take Holy Communion for the first time since my stroke.  

My swallowing is not pretty just yet but grows stronger every day. I still need to clear my throat when eating, but I’m doing less and less of that. I also can get through whole meals in less time than it was taking me to eat a small portion.

I have worked with amazing therapists, all of whom have followed my progress and have celebrated my success with me. One therapist, who I worked with over the last several months, said it was time for us to stop our regular sessions.

She said she was simply sitting there watching me eat and drink during our last session, and as much as I enjoy her company, she was right. Therapy has taken me as far as it can. The rest is up to me.

I consider it something of a miracle, one accomplished through lots of hard work, but even more prayer.

Inspiration sometimes needs a boost

I have been told by many readers and friends in the community that the story of my recovery from stroke — and my writing about it —– inspires them.

I appreciate that, but don’t see it that way at all.

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It is a story of hard work and prayer, that is true. I have felt the impact of the community’s good wishes. Living through the early days of the stroke was a matter of amazing medical treatment. At Sea Pines, I was pushed to work hard to get stronger and learned what it would take to get back to being myself.

But what inspires me, what I see as the real miracle, is the hope and love I have felt from the first day of my stroke from my family and from you, the readers who have reacted to my columns. You have lifted me up when I was less than inspired.

And I’m forever grateful that if I had to have something like this happen, that it taught me how to never quit hoping and that prayers really do get answered.

Bob Gabordi is the president/CEO of Gabordi Media and former executive editor of FLORIDA TODAY, where this column originally appeared. Follow him on Twitter: @bgabordi