It was early hours April 4, 2011 – 5 years ago today – that I woke up to start my weekday morning routine. My first thought as I reached for my sweatpants to get ready to go down to the gym was, “My word, Cohen must have elbowed me yesterday when we were playing hockey…it feels like I have a fat lip…damn-it.” I got my morning drink of water and dragged myself to the elevator to head down to the gym. I felt so tired – then I reminded myself that I had just spent a weekend with the kids. It was likely just lingering side-effects.
Got to the gym but I couldn’t keep going on the treadmill – usually my internal tenacity (some have called stubbornness) keeps me from quitting ….. but today it wasn’t enough. I tried lifting weights but that wasn’t happening. I checked myself out in the mirror on my way out of the gym and noticed my crazy fat lip was quite extensive and even seemed to be spreading. I headed back up to my suite to try some Pilates on the rug in the living room but I couldn’t do that either.
I decided to just get ready for work, returning periodically to the mirror to check out my fat lip. My mind raced to figure out what it might be. As I quickly tracked through all related bits of knowledge I’d stored over many years I remembered my brother-in-law talking about Bell’s Palsy – he had either had it himself once or told a story about someone else who had. It didn’t really matter to me – it just felt good to have it all figured out so I could get on with my day. No time to make a doctor’s appointment AND then I remembered I had an appointment on Wednesday so I would just wait and talk to her then.
I took the 5 minute walk to the subway and headed downtown to the office. As my staff began to arrive they popped their heads in to say good morning. One of the first to arrive was the Director of Communications who came in and plopped herself down across from my desk. The moment she looked up at me she gasped and said, “Rox, you have to go get that checked out. That doesn’t look good.” I brushed her away and told her it was Bell’s Palsy and I had a doctor’s appointment – it could wait.
Two hours later I realized I couldn’t concentrate at all and decided to go home to rest. I informed several members on my senior team and then headed back home to sleep away the rest of my day. I talked with my mom – who sternly advised me to see my doctor. To appease her, I called to move my appointment up from Wednesday to Tuesday. I have no recollection of the rest of that day.
My doctor took one look at me and sent me to Toronto Western Hospital. I kept telling her it was just Bell’s Palsy and at one point she said, “well I could just start a treatment for Bell’s Palsy….” I jumped at it and she dramatically pointed to the door and said, “NO, get to the hospital NOW.”
My sister joined me for a few hours before she had to fetch the kids from school. I remember at intake my BP was 190/111 and when they admitted me it was at 167/112.
It was shocking but I was still in denial. Very soon after I was assessed I was moved to an inner waiting room – more comfortable BUT everyone seemed sicker. After a neuro assessment (I’m not sure I realized that was what it was at the time) where I couldn’t touch my nose or make my fingers on my left hand dance properly, I was moved into a private room within the Emergency Department where the nurse invited me to lie down and relax while she promptly wrapped me up tightly in a warming blanket – it was so comfortable, soothing even.
Hours later, after assessments and a CT scan I thought I over-heard a conversation in the hall about finding me a room. I still wasn’t informed exactly about their findings – in fact I don’t think I heard the word “stroke” until the next day.
When I finally heard the “S” word and the description of three spots, infarctions on my brain, I was dumb founded – AND still firmly in denial. I began to think about how my life would never be the same. First thought, honestly? Would I ever be able to play hockey with the kids again!? Then, would I be able to work the same way again? Would I be able to earn a living? Retirement was not a desirable option because I was not yet 50 years old. What would I do?!
Two weeks in the hospital – frustrating. The nurses, Residents, orderlies (who hauled me to all my different tests from multiple MRIs, cerebral angiograms, lumbar puncture and more), and the lab technicians (who drew my blood 15 different times in the two weeks and performed 36 different tests) ….. were exceptionally warm and engaging. I realized as the two weeks went on that they particularly liked engaging with me because most people on the neuro ward needed intense care and could not communicate. On the other hand I would get up every day, shower and get dressed, wander the halls, work on my laptop or help the nurses make beds while listening to their stories, and on special occasions agree to be a “test-case” for medical students who needed to practice taking health histories and/or perform neuro-exams.
My EAA came by the hospital every day with papers for me to sign. I spent time daily on conference calls and visiting with family and friends. A member of my senior team brought me CDs and a portable CD player so I could watch movies BUT frankly I was too busy or too tired to watch more than 2 over the two weeks.
I had plenty of time to reflect, to be grateful for the freedom and life I had enjoyed, AND to consider what really mattered. I hadn’t taken enough time for these things in years. I wrote letters to my family – they haven’t received them yet but I have kept them and re-read them periodically. Ya know the “just-in case-the-BIG-stroke-hits” letter that one feels compelled to write while in hospital. Is that a “thing” or am I alone in this?! It is hard to really believe it today BUT the doctors – via a variety of different Residents – had me believing the reason I had to stay in hospital was that I could have the Big One any day. I actually spent many of my nights making sure my emergency button was close at hand JUST IN CASE.
Well as you can see I not only made it through the two weeks and all the tests, I have been able to live a fairly normal life for the 5 years since – more tests and regular doctors’ appointments, of course. Yes I take regular meds now and I have a few residual effects unseen or noticed by others. But it is WITH ME every day. I don’t worry about the BIG ONE any more but I do think differently about how I spend my time.
I gave notice to my Board of Directors in January 2012 and it took me 16 months before I actually left. All that time to reflect, along with consulting an amazing medical intuitive, informed me that I needed to make a change.
It hasn’t been easy but it has been full of learning and exploration. I invest a lot of time in reading and exploring topics of interest in conversation or personal reflection. Conversation & emotional intelligence, leadership, influence, diversity, the impact of the primitive brain on behaviour, to name but a few, have become areas of deep fascination.
I have spent the past 3 years exploring how I want to be of service. I’ve come at it from a variety of angles. I invested in a communications platform where people support one another on their journey to become better and more thoughtful contributors to their communities, whatever that means to them. This 
investment offered me a fun platform to ultimately step out of my executive position into my new life. In 2014 I shifted away from the day to day developments of that investment and focused more on how I could circle back to a passion I nurtured early in my career – the art & practice of leadership. As a Senior Performance Consultant, Director of Operations, President and CEO, I had developed an appreciation for what was required and a drive for supporting leaders. In 2015, something nudged me to find a challenge that was different from anything I had done BUT that would allow me to draw on my experience and utilize all the curiosity I had for all things “leadership”. I have started a podcast – ImpactBank’s the Kickass Koach. It inspires my interest for books, research and commentary and provides me an outlet to share my findings while using all my career stories – warts and all – in hopes of helping others.
Central through it all is the desire to be of service. I realized it always had been. I have reconnected with many friends from my past in the last 5 years and it has been helpful to remember who I have been and who I have always wanted to be. I was reminded one day about how a friend from my under-grad days, when I chose to go on to do a masters in business, said to me he had always thought I would be someone who did things differently – someone who would change the world, not just be another cog-in-the-wheel. The memory really struck me. More importantly it felt like a kick-in-the-pants. I knew I had not just been a “cog” during my career. I had championed those who were marginalized, I had sought to inspire people to be more than they thought they could be, and I had always been ready to voice the dissenting view at the decision table.
Well, it has been fun to jump back into an exploratory mode – like that which coloured and enriched my “under-grad” experience.
Cheers to the adventure that is life. The challenges. The sweet feeling that comes with learning. The learning that comes through failure. The peace that comes from doing what is right regardless of the cost. Cheers to experiencing more of all of this for years to come.