Courage for Today and Hope for Tomorrow: Surviving Three Strokes

By Leila Hayes BS MA.Ed MA

We all have problems, though the specifics vary from person to person. The obstacles that author Leila Hayes faced changed her life—but they did not shake her faith.

Courage for Today and Hope for Tomorrow tells of the struggles that Hayes had after having a stroke on November 25, 2016. Following her initial hospitalization, she was transported to Burke Rehabilitation, the facility she would call home for the next three months. There she had to relearn to walk, dress herself, and pick things up. Eventually she was discharged—only to be readmitted for a blood clot in her lung. Later, she found herself in the hospital for a third time for a mini stroke. Now she shares her experiences in the hope that others may benefit from her journey; she also offers a testimony of her faith interspersed with her story.

This personal narrative presents one woman’s challenges in dealing with three successive strokes, struggling through recovery, and continuing onward with God’s help.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Mar 6, 2024
• ISBN: 9798385011414

Leila Hayes BS MA.Ed MA

Leila Hayes is originally from Antigua and currently lives in Mt. Vernon, New York. She holds a BS in business from Audrey Cohen College in New York, an MA in education from New York University, and an MA in instructional technology from the New York Institute of Technology. A mother of five, she worked for the postal service for thirty years and has taught high school English language arts for seven years.

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Copyright © 2024 Leila Hayes BS, MA.Ed, MA.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This book is a work of non-fiction. Unless otherwise noted, the author and the publisher make no explicit guarantees as to the accuracy of the information contained in this book and in some cases, names of people and places have been altered to protect their privacy.

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

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Bloomington, IN 47403

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

All Scriptures are taken from King James version of the Bible, public domain.

ISBN: 979-8-3850-1139-1 (sc)

ISBN: 979-8-3850-1140-7 (hc)

ISBN: 979-8-3850-1141-4 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023920795

WestBow Press rev. date: 3/6/2024

DEDICATION

T his book is dedicated to my five children: Darrell, Lauri, Derrick, Sean, and Kevin, and especially Kevin, who was killed by an assassin’s bullet at the tender age of nineteen.

We lost Derrick almost four years ago. Most importantly, I dedicate this to my Lover and Friend, Jesus Christ, without Whom I would not be here.

CONTENTS

1     Small Beginnings

2     My Birth Month

3     Blessings

4     Decision Making

5     Forces of Nature

6     Desirous

7     Broken Pieces

8     New Every Morning

9     Love as a Verb

10   Make Us Whole

11   Choices We Make

12   When Self Rules

13   With People in Mind

14   Turning Our Caterpillars into Butterflies

15   When He Speaks, We Listen

16   Just As You Are

17   Selfless People

18   Room for Him

19   Evaluation

1

SMALL BEGINNINGS

I t was a bright and beautiful November morning, like any other morning. It had its own image stamped on it, like a person’s face. It was a good day, a just-right day—not too hot and not too cold. Like a human, it had its own personality and its own problems—problems that sometimes cannot be solved, problems that we think are solved, problems that end up being life-threatening, and personalities that change like the flick of a light switch. This day, as I went to the bathroom to take care of my personal needs, I was just about to make my exit when I discovered that I could not pick up my right foot. It seemed like there was a ton of bricks on my foot. I felt glued to the floor. Wondering what had gone wrong, I sat down on the edge of the tub for a little while to regain my composure, assess the problem, and see if this discomfort would just go away, but it did not.

I called out to my daughter-in-law and told her that I could not move my foot. She told me to sit on a chair instead of the side of the tub. I managed to drag myself out of the bathroom with her help and sat on the chair. It was about twenty minutes before I felt some relief. This good feeling would only last about five minutes, because the same symptom came right back again; this time it lasted only five minutes. When I regained my composure, I called my doctor’s office and was told to come in. About twenty minutes elapsed, and then the secretary called back and told me that the doctor wanted me to go to the emergency room instead and have them do a CT scan and an MRI. My daughter-in-law took me down to White Plains Hospital where they did some tests. The result: Dr. Jeff Chianfagnaa said that he did not find anything wrong with me. I should go back home, follow up with my primary care physician, and if the condition worsened, come back to the ER. This was Monday, November 23, three days before Thanksgiving. I had just arrived from Georgia two days before, and everyone was looking forward to associating with family and friends and participating in the festivities.

Tuesday was uneventful. I accompanied my daughter-in-law to take the baby to see his pediatrician. On our way back, we stopped at my granddaughter’s school for Thanksgiving dinner. The food was very good, and it was a nice crowd of people. We left before the conclusion because we had been out all day; we were tired, and we needed to get home to rest. When I got up Wednesday morning, my right foot was a little slow; it dragged a bit. My intuition told me to get back to the ER right away, but my son kept telling me I would be OK if I just did some exercises—but I did not feel that way. I told him that I would prefer to go to the ER. He decided to take me. It took us about twenty minutes to get to White Plains Hospital. I can only imagine how different the outcome would have been had I waited longer to get to the emergency room or if I had listened to my son’s advice to walk around and exercise.

After we arrived in White Plains, got out of the vehicle, and walked up to the receptionist’s desk, I passed out. They had to take my vital signs. After that, I really do not know what happened. The next thing I knew, I was in a hospital bed, and the nurse was telling me that I had had a stroke. This was November 26, 2015. Then, someone was helping me to get out of the bed because I could not walk. The nurse had to help me to stand up straight. This was something that would last for a very long time. There were two women who were asking me a whole lot of questions. I guess they were social workers.

Anyway, I only stayed at White Plains Hospital for two nights. I was transported to the facility at Burke, where I stayed for about three months. Believe me, it was very hard work there. As I said before, I could not walk, so it was as though I was doing everything for the first time. First, someone had to push me anywhere I had to go. Some of the offices were in different buildings, and I had to be taken to wherever I was going. I had to learn to walk, to button my clothes, to put on my blouse, and to pick up things off the table. I could not bend to pick up anything or else I would topple over. I even had to take speech therapy, although it was not for long because my speech was not affected that much. To this day, I cannot tie my shoestrings. As a matter of fact, I cannot tie anything.

I had to go for physical therapy and occupational therapy every day. All the therapists were so very nice, and they knew their jobs very well. If anyone needs this kind of care, I’d recommend them to Burke. I was discharged from the facility on January 8 and was picked up by my oldest son. On January 10, the nurse was sent to visit me, and her homecare lasted until February 26.

After I left Burke on January 8, I was readmitted on January 21 by Genesis Ambulette. I had a blood clot on my lung. I thought that I was a healthy person; I did not smoke or drink or have any other vices. I think that my stroke did not have anything to do with those factors. I was reminded of the story in the Bible about the man who was born blind. And His disciples asked Him, saying, who did sin, this man or his parents, that he was born blind? Jesus answered, neither has this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him (John 9:2–3). Facing the impossible, facing the unthinkable, and knocking at death’s door for entrance but being turned away three times, I have been left alive to tell of this life-threatening experience. This is one remarkable, victorious, and compelling story that needs to be told again and again.

Sometimes we do not know the why, but we try to accept things the way they are.

I was discharged from Burke on February 12, after which I started my physical therapy with Mariano on February 23 for eight weeks at home.

I was accepted at Helen Hayes Hospital for physical and occupational rehabilitation therapy. After a while, I had aquatic therapy also because the center was equipped with that facility. This outpatient facility was situated in West Haverstraw, New York, which meant I had to travel to get there. My children were very helpful in taking me. Each week they would take turns driving me there. At that time, I was staying in Spring Valley with my oldest son. My other two children had to come from the Bronx and New Rochelle, so you know that was hard. Many people tend to forget kindnesses, but there are some things in life that you do not forget. I really do appreciate my children because they did not have to be good to me. Some people would say it is the way that you rear your kids.

At times, I question God and ask Him why. He does not mind if you question Him. He says, Come now and let us reason together (Isaiah 1:18). He invites us to have a conversation with Him; that means that He wants to speak with us. I consider myself to be a very healthy person. However, when one seriously thinks about it, no one is healthy because all humans have the sin problem. The good book says that all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God (Rom 3:23), and that the wages (sic) of sin is death (Rom 6:23). That means that sin kills. Sin maims. It distorts, it destroys, and it is downright destructive.

Have you considered your selfish heart lately? You should proclaim, Oh God! I abhor myself and repent in dust and ashes (Job 42:6). God says, Do not put your trust in princes nor men, put your trust in Me (Psalms 146:3), but we continuously and fervently put our trust in people. We trust our justice system that fails us miserably. We trust the people who say they feed us, not knowing that the food they put on our tables is poisoning us. It is not the food, per se, that does the job, but it is the chemicals that they put in the food. We trust the officers in blue who are supposed to protect us, and instead, some of them are our destructors. We trust our physicians, surgeons, cardiologists, podiatrists, dentists, optometrists, and all the other ists, who consciously and conscientiously rip us off and cause us to become disillusioned with the drugs that they push on us. Many of these professionals are good people and do good works but—do not get me wrong—many are in these positions for the love of money, and the love of money is the root of all evil.

My physician, Dr. Goldstein, is a very nice and caring person. He is not one to brush you off. He takes the time to talk with you and find out about the family even before he starts taking care of you. Sometimes, I am even amazed by what he remembers about my family. Many doctors ask you the reason you are there, write a prescription for what is wrong, then scamper off to see another patient. It is not what he does. That is what I call caring. What an avaricious and evil world we live in, but most importantly, what a petty and selfish world. These evils stem from selfishness, and I wonder if at any time they have considered their unsurrendered, emaciated, and selfish hearts.

The ability to care for one another is becoming slimmer and slimmer. It is like a rubber band that has lost its elasticity. Technology, Hollywood, TV, and the authorities have corrupted the minds of the masses. Like their master the evil one, they use illusions, sorcery, shady deals, caricatures, deceptions, lies, and numerous other evil devices to attract and entice the crowd and draw them away from all that is good, beneficial, and uplifting. Then these delusionary, deceived people cling to these shadows and leave the real substance—they are grasping at straws.

Technology has taken over our lives. Our children will be in the house, and we are talking but there is no response because their ears are all plugged up; they cannot hear us. There is hardly any time to speak to their parents. The children are so engaged with the phones that it is ridiculous. If given the chance, they would not even eat. They are so consumed with the phones that they cannot be found without them, not even for a moment.

We are all broken people, living in a broken, sadistic world. This world is filled with broken promises, broken vows, broken hearts, broken minds, and broken lives that no one can fix. We cry out for help. We need a Master fixer upper. God help us! He is in the business of mending broken lives and putting them back together again.

Some people show their discontent by being silent. Those people are the worst ones, because no one knows what they are thinking. What these schemers do not know is that their contrary performances are very transparent. Sometimes, it is not what one does that matters, but in fact what she or he does not do. These kinds of people speak with their bodies, and their body language tells whether they are pleased or displeased. Their body language betrays them, no matter how subtle it is. Some people have a way of making others feel comfortable, while others pretend. There can be only one genuine person; all others must be considered counterfeits.

Situations can easily become overwhelming, and that is when the real you surface. It is only a matter of time before one’s attitude and real color come to the top. One cannot keep oil under water; it will always float to the top. No one can keep the water under the bridge; the water must flow. You are who you are when your performance, under stress, surpasses the other person’s. I am the type of person who does not expect much from anyone. It goes like this: Surprise me. You see, if I do not have an expectation, the outcome will not have an impact on me. One of the things that I have learned from experience is that you cannot change anyone unless the person wants to change. You can only change yourself. You cannot change them, and neither should you allow them to change you. Someone once said, Whatever you are, be that; whatever you do, be true. Straightforwardly act, be honest; in fact, be nobody else but you. How you think, so you are. It is what you really want to do that tells God who you are. But God says, I don’t think like you do sinner man. I am not going to change my thoughts; I am not going to suit you. I am not going to change my ways; I am not going to suit your ways. Man looks at outward appearance, but God looks on the heart (1 Samuel 16:7). There are reform schools that can reform you, but they don’t have schools that can save you. There is value in people who make a change for the better.

There is extreme sensitivity to cold on the affected side. Things like spoons, knives, forks, or any metal objects are extremely cold to the touch. Not only are they cold to the touch, but when the fingers hold on to something, they do not know how to let go. I must make a conscious effort to put down whatever it is or give it to someone else. Just turning on the faucet, if the hand had enough strength to do that, was like taking a handful of ice out of the freezer and holding it for a