Ed. — From the Sunday, Jan. 16, print edition.
VIRGINIA BEACH — One night in November, I awoke seemingly bouncing against the wall. I thought I was just tired, and I went back to sleep.
I seemed okay in the morning, but my speech slurred by the time I got to work. I threw up.
“John, are you all right?” asked Jason Graham, a colleague at the farm market. He called my wife at work. A bit foolishly, I drove home, but Jason followed me there. My wife took me to the hospital.
At the time, it didn’t seem too bad, whatever it was that was happening. In the ER, they immediately said, “Stroke protocol.” That seemed plenty bad.
I felt like I was dying in the following days – and sometimes over the next few weeks. But now, mostly on the other side of it, I know I am very lucky.
I have survived a stroke with the help of loved ones and friends – the very people I thought of when I figured I might not make it – and healthcare professionals, to whom I am very grateful.
My medical ordeal over the past couple of months is why I haven’t written here in a while, but here I am writing to you again.
I want to thank the people who have helped me recover, especially the nurses and physical therapists who aided my rehabilitation. Over three weeks in the hospital, I certainly lost my modesty, but I was forced to learn learn how to surrender myself to the work of recovering.
It’s hard, of course. I’ve worked on my own for much of my life. I’ve worked with my hands and my body, and I am now working hard to get back those tools. I get to write about what I love. For now, that means I am writing with some assistance, but I am writing again.
While I was in rehabilitation, everybody was challenging and kind to me at once. They kept telling me I would be okay, but I just had to work toward being okay. They watched over me in my darkest hour.
For a while, I felt like I was in the dark with no light ahead. Friends and loved ones kept me going.
Only when I got home did I believe I could be okay again. A change in medicine helped, but I’ve also realized what a wonderful community I live in. My wife, Kathleen Fogarty, has been incredible. So have the neighbors who watch over me, even when I take a slow, long walk around my neighborhood.
I find I’m more of a believer in the basic goodness of humanity. Maybe people are nicer when you’re down. I also appreciate that I’m going to get back up.
When I was home – and when I was starting to feel better – I found I wanted to get up and walk. So I did. Sometimes, I tried to go a little too quickly. But it’s getting better.
I’ve been back to the farm to look things over, but Jason and Kate Dooley have done a great job keeping it going in my absence.
One of the physical therapists who helped me lives nearby, and, on her way home from work, she was shocked to see me walking in the neighborhood. She called out to me from her car. She had tears in her eyes.
I hope I’ll be able to plant in the spring and make my compost, rituals of renewal. There’s a ways more for me to go, but I aim to get there.
I can do most everything I could do before, though I plan to stay bad at cooking because my wife’s cooking was much better than mine coming into this.
I am fortunate. I hope the people I care about know I am grateful.
And I hope to write more to you about the things I care about – farming and gardening practices that are responsible and productive. I believe strongly still in good soil and how it helps everything in our environment. I believe people have the power to make better decisions.
I want to practice these ideals in my life, work and writing. I still believe I can have a voice in speaking about the importance of these things.
In the meantime, I’m working to recover. I’m taking my walks. Like anything worth doing in life, and especially now, you keep putting one foot in front of the other.
Before you know it, you’re where you need to be.
The author is a farmer and consultant who writes about sustainable farming and gardening for The Independent News. Reach him via farmerjohnnewearth@yahoo.com.
© 2022 Pungo Publishing Co., LLC
Love the Princess Anne