A stroke that wiped out the fine motor control in my left hand, rendering me unable to write anything that can be read by others pulled the legs out from under what I thought was a great career, leaving me depressed, angry and feeling isolated but eventually opened my eyes to new opportunities. The very same stroke also resulted in me returning to some very deep roots, allowing  me to reconnect with things that I sorely missed in the 30 years I spent and worked in Silicon Valley.

I have permanent effects from my stroke that still piss me off: I get easily frustrated to the point where I angrily walk away from the occasional task; I'm veryl ashamed i can't write legibly and I'm embarrassed that I drool slightly from the left corner of my mostly smiling lips;And, I have enough left side neglect to trip over things at least once a week or to use a left side railing if I'm on stairs. 

Overall, that's not much of a price to pay for my life today; I have a house with a view that stretches forever. From my office window is a panoramic view of the Escondido Valley and mile after mile of verdant avocado groves. I even have a nice selection of "toys'' that keep me occupied and help me blow off a little steam.

Twenty years post stroke, I've had time to adjust and although I’m still embarrassed at being handicapped, I’m emotionally stronger today than I've ever been and I've come to rely on doctors I trust because of their patient communications skills.

But I’m not without triggers that can kick my butt. Highest on the list is being in any situation that forces me to publicly admit I can’t do something “because Im handicapped and can’t write legibly.” I detest admitting that and it makes me feel like I’m a failure. Yet it happens and i get over it.

Ive learned to adapt.Rigjht at the tippy top of my adaptations is my use of an instant on chromebook or lightweight computer. I just don't go anywhere without one fully charged nested in my tastefully casual over the shoulder book bag. It's a habit that’s paid off well over the last two decades. The other accouterments of my life as a handicapped American are the fully charged phone--auxiliary battery and extra cables and a paper white screen Kindlealways in my book bag. I've always been a reader and my new life-- plus new technologies have helped me read even more.

That’s a great thing!

I have a really good friend who has challenged me over the last 20 years. He’s a medical professional and it's because of him I discovered adaptive PE, (specific exercisdes for handicapped people). I enjoy it, but it's hard to find water aerobics classes in heated community pools.

As a result of my buddy’s suggestions, I've regained a lot of mobility I lost to my stroke and have increased self confidence. Moreover, I've lost numerous belt sizes and now weigh close to what I tipped the scales at in 1970 as a newly returned veteran.The scale is no longer my enemy!

The two downsides to my current life in rural San Diego are my proximity to Camp Pendletonwhere The noise of artillery and machine gun fire initiates a flee or fight response because I have PTSD.

The good news about living very close to Pendleton is: I regularly shop at the marine Exchange and commissary at the base. And buying stuff tax free is its own reward.

I get my m,monthly haircut at the base because its lesss expensive than local hair salons.

This habit has resulted in moments of fright followed by laughter; 

Case in point: I was nose deep in a book waiting to get my haircut when a barber waved me to her chair. She immediately asked how I wanted my haircut and I replied “ standard cut’

And then it hit me: I was at a Marine Corps infantry base.”Holy Chesty Puller! she could interpret that as a high and tight haircut!

But everything worked out just fine and I thought I could go stylin around the base.

There are other reasons why I go to Pendleton or the Marine Corps Air Station down in Miramar.On  wednesdays Old retired or disabled marines can play 18 holes of golf for a buck.I shoot in the low 300s but I enjoy exercise involved with walking two miles, pushing a club cart. Beside Im so incompetent at golf, I’ve accidentally dinged two  C22 Osprey tilt rotor aircraft. 

Woops, My bad.

Its been 20 years and although Im handicapped, my stroke opened up new doors and provided me with the impetus: to go back to college and take non fiction writing courses at Stanford, and to challenge my sense of balance by buying a three-wheel Piaggio motor scooter and then go visit six missions.

But my recovery has given me confidence to pursue something I've been interested in since I was 10, the culture and left behind evidence of gold prospectors. And to write about this I need to be near sources which means a move up north is probably in the cards.

I've been away from my drive to write longer than I like, but I’m back now.--Jim Forbes on 10 August 2022.