Just Pick Up The Peg: A Nurse's Journey Back From Stroke

By Angie Collins-Burke and Suzanne Cronkwright

"Stroke is a life-altering event. When Angie Collins-Burke suffered a devastating stroke that injured the right hemisphere of her brain at the age of forty-six, her life was suddenly changed forever. Once a registered nurse taking care of patients, Angie became the patient. In this candid memoir, Angie chronicles her heart-wrenching diagnosis and the emotional rollercoaster of her stroke recovery journey. With incredible determination, courage, grit, family support, and intensive rehabilitation therapy, Angie faced the challenges of overcoming severe physical and cognitive impairments compounded by post-stroke depression and epilepsy, and she shares her coping strategies and keen insights that can help others.

Her neurological recovery is extraordinary—not only was she able to regain her lost functions, but she also developed new artistic and athletic talents and found a new life purpose. This truly remarkable recovery story is inspiring and empowering, offering wisdom and hope to stroke survivors and their families. It is highly recommended for patients, caregivers, healthcare professionals, and anyone who wants to understand the lived experience of stroke."
– David J. Gladstone MD, PhD, FRCPC
Stroke Neurologist, Sunnybrook Health Sciences Centre
Associate Professor, Department of Medicine, University of Toronto

This book explores:
• Living with the challenges of a brain injury
• Dealing with depression and an identity crisis
• Fighting the what ifs
• Coping with frustration
• Moving from putting yourself down to positive self-talk
• Handling hurtful, inappropriate, and disrespectful comments
• Considering intimacy following stroke
• Detailing the benefits of a pain journal and exercise

Just Pick Up the Peg are the words that Angie commanded her hand to do during occupational therapy—a small phrase whose repetition yielded significant and life-changing results. Her memoir inspires us all to appreciate what we have in life, thrive through difficulty, and make the most of our challenges and opportunities.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tellwell Talent
• Release date: Mar 26, 2020
• ISBN: 9780228824022

Angie Collins-Burke

Angie Collins-Burke was a Registered Nurse at The Ross Memorial Hospital in Lindsay, Ontario, Canada with over 25 years of experience as a bedside nurse, clinical resource nurse, intake coordinator, and nurse educator. Following her stroke, she assisted other stroke survivors as a Stroke Mentor and volunteered with Peers Fostering Hope program through the March of Dimes. She is an amateur bodybuilder and earned her elite status in 2017, receiving an invitation to compete at the World Championships. As a member of the Integrated Stroke Unit Working Group at The Ross Memorial Hospital, she provided valuable input that was used to develop policies and procedures for a brand-new unit. Angie has been a keynote speaker and featured in radio interviews, live Facebook interviews, print media, blog posts, books, magazines, and newsletters. She is well known on social media with over 20,000 video views. Married for almost 30 years, she has gained strength during recovery from her husband Bill, two grown sons, and the family dog Roscoe.

Book preview

Acknowledgements

•Bill Burke for your continued love, guidance, and support. There aren’t enough words to explain how much Angie loves you and appreciates all that you have done and continue to do for her every day.

•Dallas and Chris Burke for being Angie’s pride and joy, her reason to keep fighting. Thank you for your love, support, and forgiveness.

•Raymond Cronkwright for your continued love and support when Suzanne embarked on another co-writing adventure, went to Lindsay on road trips, and stayed up way too late at night editing.

•Dr. Hainer for your medical expertise that has played a large part in Angie’s recovery.

•Dr. Gladstone for saving Angie’s life and getting her through many a medical crisis.

•The many paramedics for your quick actions that got Angie safely to the hospital on numerous occasions, and for bringing her out of numerous seizures.

•The many nurses that cared for Angie on her journey. Your medical expertise, kindness, and assistance will never be forgotten.

•The many therapists that helped Angie overcome and learn to cope with the many challenges that the stroke left her with.

•Angie’s father and his wife, Michele for stepping in and helping the family get through this crisis. For your continued love and support.

•Angie’s mother and stepfather. Angie misses you both every day. It’s because of both of you that she is the woman she is today. You taught her to work hard, be strong, and believe in herself.

•Angie’s extended family for their love and support.

•Roscoe for making Angie smile every day. For all the cuddles on her darkest days.

•Those special friends that have supported Angie during the rough times and celebrated with her during the good times.

•Gabrielle Sadler for your friendship and support, for inviting Angie to participate in various committees, and convincing her to volunteer as a stroke mentor. You gave her a purpose again and helped bring her back to life.

•Jodi Dunn for your support and thoughtfulness that allowed Angie to participate in committees, regain a purpose, and allow her to use her palliative knowledge.

•Angie’s former co-workers for twenty-six wonderful years; for the memories, the laughs, and the support during her recovery. Angie misses you all every day.

•Spectrum Centre for Creative Fitness for supporting Angie’s fitness journey.

•Karen Gray for making Angie feel comfortable enough to join Spectrum and teaching her how to get started.

•Adam Deschenes is the best personal trainer in the world (in Angie’s opinion). You had faith in her when many others didn’t believe that it was possible for a forty-nine-year-old stroke survivor to compete as an amateur body builder. Thank you for your expertise, support, understanding, inspiration, motivation, and for never giving up on Angie or her dream.

•Ultimate Fitness Events (UFE) for being a wonderful and supportive organization.

•Dave and Julie Avery for welcoming Angie to your team despite her many obstacles and challenges. For your knowledge, encouragement, patience, and guidance that allowed her to step on stage.

•Chris Linton and D’FYNE Fitness magazine for believing that her story was important enough to share.

•Suzanne Cronkwright for believing in Angie’s story and sharing Angie’s vision. For all Suzanne’s hard work, editorial and publishing guidance, support, and knowledge as a co-author.

•Linda Bosiljevac, a wonderful nursing colleague of Angie’s who prompted this book adventure by connecting the authors, and always offering her home to support us while we worked on the book.

Preface

As we go about our daily lives, suddenly it happens out of the blue! BAM! Life throws us a curveball. Something so completely unexpected and overwhelming changes the course of our life and the person we are.

My curveball came in the form of a stroke. I was a healthy, active, forty-six-year-old registered nurse. Then one evening, in the blink of an eye everything changed, and my world turned upside down. I found myself lying in a hospital bed paralyzed on my left side.

I thought my life was over, that I would never be happy again, that I no longer had purpose. Over time, I discovered this was not the case. Although my old life was gone, my new life slowly evolved and became as fulfilling and rewarding as my old one. Even though I haven’t recovered completely from my stroke and have been left with permanent deficits, I’ve learned that life goes on. I found my new purpose and learned many valuable lessons about myself and life in general—discovering talents I didn’t know I possessed. It was during the most difficult moments that I discovered my true strength.

During nursing training, we were taught that after two years of recovery from a stroke, that was it. There would be little or no further improvement. So that’s what I believed. If, at my two-year stroke anniversary someone had told me all the amazing achievements and accomplishments that I’d go on to experience, I wouldn’t have believed a single word of it. Yet, after six years I’m still making advancements.

The brain is very complicated. Every stroke survivor is affected differently; every stroke survivor’s journey and recovery will be different. There will be challenges and setbacks, but there’s always hope.

I once gave a speech to a stroke survivor’s support group. Four people walked into the room using canes. Each of them had been told they’d never walk again. I’ve met countless stroke survivors, both on social media, and in person that have defied the odds and are able to complete activities they were told would be impossible. I’m one of them.

My name is Angie and I am a Stroke Survivor.

Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

Preface

Chapter 1: A Quarter Turn to the Right - May 7, 2017

Chapter 2: Welcome to My Journey

Chapter 3: Goodbye Old Life - September 21, 2013

Chapter 4: From Bad to Worse - September 23, 2013

Chapter 5: The Nightmare has Just Begun

Chapter 6: The Nightmare Continues

Chapter 7: Toronto Bound – September 26, 2013

Chapter 8: Is This Goodbye?

Chapter 9: Moving Right Along

Chapter 10: What Fresh Hell Awaits Me?

Chapter 11: It’s Rehab Time - October 7, 2013

Chapter 12: Rehab Begins

Chapter 13: A Giant Leap Forward

Chapter 14: Homeward Bound

Chapter 15: Back to the Routine

Chapter 16: A Fried Egg on Toast!

Chapter 17: Fingers Crossed – October 23, 2013

Chapter 18: Start Packing

Chapter 19: My Hometown - October 25, 2013

Chapter 20: I Must Be Dreaming – November 7, 2013

Chapter 21: First Day Alone

Chapter 22: Time is My Therapy

Chapter 23: The Gift that Keeps on Giving – February 5, 2014

Chapter 24: Six Months After the Horrible Day

Chapter 25: Is It Getting Dark in Here?

Chapter 26: Rock Bottom – December 2014

Chapter 27: No More Tears

Chapter 28: My New Path – February 2015

Chapter 29: Giving and Receiving

Chapter 30: Learning to Adapt

Chapter 31: Stepping Out of My Comfort Zone

Chapter 32: The New Me

Chapter 33: Determination Pays Off – October 2015

Chapter 34: Just Watch Me Go – December 2015

Chapter 35: The Pieces Start to Fall into Place – January 2016

Chapter 36: I Think I Can – March 11, 2016

Chapter 37: Angie the Stroke Mentor – March 21, 2016

Chapter 38: Installing Muscles...Please Wait – June 2016

Chapter 39: Have I Bitten Off More Than I Can Chew?

Chapter 40: Almost Show Time

Chapter 41: After the Competition – March 2018

Chapter 42: Epilogue - Finding my Way

Chapter 43: The Final Word from Other Stroke Survivors

Chapter 44: To My Fellow Healthcare Providers

Chapter 1

A Quarter Turn to the Right - May 7, 2017

I’m standing on the ramp leading to the stage. Nervous? For sure. But I also feel like a million bucks. My hair, make-up, and nails have been professionally done. My skin is glistening and golden brown from the spray tan. I’m in the best shape of my life—lean, strong, and muscular. I’m wearing long, dangling, glimmering crystal earrings, with a bracelet to match. Shimmering with sparkling stones, my bikini fits my body perfectly. The clear six-inch stilettos are covered with dazzling gems on the heels. Number 199 is displayed on a button clipped to the front of my bikini.

As the announcer calls out names and numbers, I slowly inch toward the stage, and eventually join the stage director behind a curtain. The announcer says, Please give a warm welcome to contestant number 199, Angie Burke. The stage director signals me to go. My heart is racing but I know I’m ready for this moment; I’ve spent months preparing. Stepping onto the stage and into the bright light, I can only discern the judge’s table and first few rows of the audience.

Three marks on the stage define the locations for my various poses. I walk toward the first X, focusing all my energy on my balance and exuding confidence while I walk. Remember what you learned in posing classes. Smile. Smile. Smile.

I reach the first mark and strike my first pose. The audience cheers.

As part of the registration process, I wrote a short biography. As I strut towards the next mark, the announcer shares my story with the audience.

I cruise to the other side of the stage and present my next pose to a chorus of cheers. So far, so good. I cross to centre stage. Prayer pose, turn, back double bicep pose, turn, front double bicep pose, salute the judges, then stroll to the back of the stage, take my place in line with the other contestants in my division, and turn to face the audience.

I breathe a sigh of relief, but my time on stage isn’t over yet.

Okay ladies come forward.

As a group we walk toward the front of the stage. It’s time for mandatory poses. I present my front pose, focusing on everything I’ve learned and practiced.

A quarter turn to the right, the announcer instructs.

I carefully move into the next pose. Focus on your balance and SMILE.

Again, I hear, a quarter turn to the right. Now, I face the back of the stage and display my back muscles.

Okay ladies, a quarter turn to the right.

Again, I cautiously turn. My legs are trembling, but I can’t appear nervous or stumble.

A quarter turn to the right.

I’m in my front pose and facing the audience. This is the final pose. After a minute or so the announcer asks the judges if they’re finished, then he says, Thank you ladies. You may exit the stage. Again, I salute the judges and head toward the stairs leading off stage.

I’ve survived the pre-judging with no major mishaps. Backstage, I find a bench and collapse with relief; but suddenly I’m overwhelmed with emotion. I did it! I actually did it! Against all odds, with all the obstacles and struggles that I’d faced, I did it. Tears stream down my face. A couple of my teammates see me crying and come over to make sure I’m okay. These are happy tears, I explain.

Several months ago, when I first uttered the words, I want to compete in an amateur bodybuilding show, I didn’t really think it would ever happen. I tried and tried to push the idea out of my head. This is crazy. There’s no way you can do this. The cards are stacked against you. But there’s a saying: Never give up on something you can’t go a day without thinking about. It didn’t matter how hard I tried. I couldn’t get this dream out of my head.

I manage to pull myself together. There are 200 competitors here. I start socializing, and I’m introduced to people of all ages, from different places and walks of life. So many interesting stories of what led everyone to compete. Even though this is a competition, there’s a mutual respect among us. We all understand how much work and dedication it took to step on that stage.

After the pre-judging ends, I meet up with my husband, Bill, in the auditorium. He’s been watching the competition.

So, how’d I look?

You looked incredible, and nailed all of your poses, he reassures me.

He can tell I’m exhausted. I was too excited and nervous to get much sleep last night, then I had to get up at the crack of dawn to get my hair and make-up done before travelling to the venue.

Hey, we’ve a couple hours before you need to be back for the evening show. Why don’t we go to the hotel and you can rest? he suggests. As soon as we get to the hotel room I flop onto the bed and immediately fall asleep.

In no time, Bill whispers, Wake up. You need to eat and then it’ll be time to leave.

My dinner consists of a baked potato and chicken breast, all previously weighed out. Although most of the judging is complete, I still want to look good for the evening show. There will be over 600 people in the audience, and Bill had arranged for several of our friends and family to attend to cheer me on. I touch up my hair and make-up and we drive to the community centre. Bill gives me a kiss and wishes me good luck.

I rush backstage, put my heels on, walk around to get the feel of them, and practice my poses. There’s a sheet of paper on the wall listing the order the various categories go on stage. I’m on second.

A woman rushes up and down the hall announcing, Everyone on stage for the Athlete’s Meeting. I can’t help but chuckle to myself. Me, an athlete? Now that’s funny. If my high school gym teacher were here, she’d have collapsed with laughter. I wasn’t a stellar student. In fact, I was a train wreck, equally horrible at everything, extremely thin, weak, and awkward. Each time we started a new activity, I’d think Maybe I’ll be good at this one. But that never happened. I’m pretty sure the only reason she passed me was so she didn’t have to deal with me a second time. Gym was mandatory in first year, so I had no choice but to take it. I never attempted gym class again.

Soon, I’m standing on stage with all the contestants receiving instructions for the evening show. Instead of the three poses, we’ll only walk to centre stage, complete two poses, and then move to the back of the stage until called forward for the mandatory poses.

Backstage after the meeting, I decide which poses I want to do and begin to practice. The women that have been working on our hair, make-up, and spray tan call my category over. They put oil on my skin to accentuate my muscles and apply special glue to secure my bikini in place. There are a variety of weights and resistance bands. I begin to complete some lifts so my muscles appear fuller.

We’re lined up in the order we’ll be going on stage, and again I stand on the ramp. I’m nervous thinking of the crowd, but there’s less pressure than this morning. As I get closer and closer to the stage, I can hear the music playing, the announcer calling out names and numbers, followed by loud cheers from the audience.

It’s my turn next. This time I’m not nervous. I’m excited. I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished and honoured that friends and family have taken time to come support me. With the words Please welcome to the stage, number 199 Angie Burke, the stage manager signals me to go. I step on stage and wave to the crowd.

The stage is decked out with banners and the lighting is much more sophisticated than the morning. Walking to the centre of the stage, I carefully place my feet in the correct position and go into my double bicep pose. The crowd cheers. I turn to face the back of the stage and move into my back-double bicep pose. The cheers grow more intense this time. Both of my coaches and trainer have commented that my back is the strongest and most developed area. Apparently, the crowd agrees.

After finishing the mandatory poses, we exit the stage to wait until every category is completed. The awards ceremony will end the evening.

I decide to go into the auditorium to watch the show and cheer on my fellow teammates. During the intermission my friends and family come to see me, offer congratulations, and tell me how proud they are. They’ve been with me through this entire journey. They’re aware of everything I’ve endured—all the obstacles I’ve overcome, how hard I’ve worked, and how slim the chances were that I’d actually survive to step on that stage.

The awards ceremony begins, and everyone returns to their seats. I prepare backstage and we’re signalled toward the ramp at the appropriate times. We go in our groups, but this time it doesn’t matter what order we line up in. My category is almost at the end. I’m on the ramp for the last time. My feet throb with pain from spending the day in six-inch heels. My muscles ache from flexing. I’m exhausted, but grateful I not only stepped on stage, but didn’t fall or forget any of my poses. The announcer calls out names and numbers of all the winners in the various categories, and the crowd cheers. The stage manager directs us onto the stage. It’s packed with competitors, some holding trophies.

Now to present the trophies in the Masters Figure Category, he says. In third place we have…, and he reads out a winner’s number and name. A woman walks to the centre of the stage beaming and is presented with her trophy.

In second place we have contestant number 199, Angie Burke. The crowd cheers. I remain motionless. I must have heard him wrong. There’s no way. I feel a hand on my back and hear one of my teammates saying, Go. That’s you. I walk to the centre of the stage in complete disbelief and shock. An official approaches me and places a beautiful trophy in my hands.

This trophy is the culmination of four years of determination and dedication. Quite an accomplishment, considering on September 23, 2013, at age forty-six, I suffered a large stroke. I was left with epilepsy, had no use of my left side, had no vision on my left side, experienced seizures, and significant cognitive deficits. This book chronicles my journey back.

Chapter 2

Welcome to My Journey

I’m a registered nurse. For twenty-six years I had a very successful career. I worked very hard and was well respected by fellow nurses and other members of the healthcare team. I specialized in palliative care and was the most senior RN on the unit where I worked. I’d taken several courses and even earned my Canadian Palliative Care designation. I was knowledgeable, confident, and loved most aspects of my career.

I believed in my heart that I was meant to help ease the pain and suffering of those dying and support them and their loved ones through one of the most difficult experiences we as humans must go through —watching someone we care about come to the end of their journey on Earth or facing the end of their own life. I was meant to be an empathetic ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on, or someone who offered a kind word. I even cracked the odd joke to bring a laugh or smile, and, for a moment, make those I was caring for forget the reality of their situation. It was my identity; I felt I was making a difference.

I was proud of who I was and my work. I had a sense of purpose. Now let’s be realistic. It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. Shift work was hard, especially night shifts. Dealing with death and dying every day was often overwhelming and emotionally draining. Having to call an elderly woman at 3:00 a.m. to inform her that her husband was close to death or had just passed away was extremely difficult. Listening to people cry, devastated, watching a person they loved take their last breath was always heart-wrenching. Then after consoling them, I’d have to place the body in a shroud, load it onto a stretcher, and take it to the morgue.

It was challenging to frequently work short-staffed, trying to figure out how I was going to get to all the tasks that needed to be completed. I often left work feeling frustrated because it wasn’t physically possible to give the kind of care I wanted. I got yelled at by families, patients, other nurses, doctors, etc., on a regular basis. Being told by the staffing office that, You have to stay to fill a vacancy in the schedule was