I wrote this article recently. I describe Stroke recovery as a leap of faith, not unlike other leaps of faith we constantly take. Here are some highlights...
- I talked to a stroke group the other day. They were about 30 strong, and they were feisty. I do talks all over the country on the state of stroke recovery research. I have spoken to audiences that have included therapists, doctors and researchers. But nothing is quite like staring down the barrel of a group of stroke survivors. They've lived through stroke and have, to whatever degree, experienced the loss of control that defines brain damage. Each person who survives stroke is dealt a unique "hand of loss" causing the dispossession of everything from language to limbs, from emotions to personal independence. Stroke survivors have literally been there and back. They can be a bit prickly when someone suggests that they need to work harder. And that's just what I was suggesting.
- Much of what I believe helps a stroke survivor recover involves a leap of faith. I believe that massed practice works. Massed practice involves literally massing hours of practice together. I believe repetitive practice works. Repetitive practice involves doing the same movement, repeatedly, until long after sanity screams to stop.
- I believe that there is no way to recover unless the stroke survivor stays aware of new developments for stroke recovery as they emerge. I think stroke survivors need to have a strong cardiovascular and muscular foundation in order to have the energy to do all the other things necessary to recover to the highest level of potential. In short, I believe that stroke recovery is best served if efforts toward recovery are treated like a full-time job
Convincing the Experts
- When I speak to therapists about this emerging research-based paradigm shift, there is some push back. Therapists give me a sideways look and let me know that I'm whistling a bit of Dixie if I think that most stroke survivors are going to be willing to carry out a complicated and labor-intensive plan.
- Stroke survivors are more blunt. "Six hours a day of practice! I have better things to do, thanks!" They also ask questions that require absolute answers. "If I do put in the time and effort, what return can I expect?" they demand. "What about the repetitive practice? How many times do I have to repeat a movement before my brain rewires enough to do the movement right?"
- I've learned to be direct when answering. I tell them, "There are no guarantees. You could work very hard and get very little return. No one knows how many repetitions are needed. Some people think the magic number is 10,000. Others think it's closer to 150,000. Some researchers suggest a million or two. But even if we knew the 'optimal' number, the fact is that the number of repetitions needed is different for every survivor because of any number of variables." Well, to stroke survivors, this is the cherry on top of a mud pie, let me tell you. But I have an ace up my sleeve—and that ace is a mirror.
- I asked the members of the group what they did before their stroke. One gent had been a lawyer. Another was a farmer. And I have just spent three years writing a book. The three of us were a collective of experts in leaps of faith.
- I suggested to them that the monumental challenge of law school followed by the bar review then the bar exam (a three-day, six-hours-per-day exam) were several leaps of faith. Betting the farm on the mysterious and unpredictable miracle of life, year-in and year-out, through flood and draught, is the farmer's perpetual leap of faith. And what of the three years spent writing a book distilling the very message I was now telling them? This may have been the ultimate folly. I am guaranteed of selling only five copies—all of them to my mom."