I'M NOT DRUNK!

Let me set the scene... 

I'm 31, I have a brilliant job, amazing family, and a boyfriend that has made me the happiest that I've ever been. I eat really well, and train hard. All in all, pretty peachy, healthy, and a lot to be thankful for! Right? Well the curve ball that set the ball rolling for this blog wasn't in the plan! 

It started on the day of the Men's Wimbledon Final.

Spectacularly sunny, a few of us headed to a local beer garden showing the match. My favourite pint of cider in hand, I settled down to watch the game, and we swapped notes excitedly between sets! Except... I was slurring my words a little... Shame faced I checked and had only had about a third of my pint...how embarrassing...I assumed everyone would think I was drunk! Quietly I sipped my drink, and just tried to enjoy Andy Murray winning. 

Lets jump to Tuesday. 

Everything was getting hard. If I had closed my eyes, I would have been fast asleep. I was avoiding taking phone calls, or having any unnecessary conversations. I can only describe trying to speak, as dragging the words through thick, sludgy mud, and trying to push them out to form a word. Our weekly managers meeting was unavoidable. At this point, the problem was very real, usually pretty opinionated with a solid input, I was dreading simply speaking. When the time came that I could no longer avoid it, I rapidly apologised saying that I was stuttering a little, and please to bear with me! I knew that my speech had reached a point where the only sane conclusion by my colleagues, could be that I was drunk or on drugs of some sort in work. Not a good look! I struggled through the meeting and the rest of the day, and looking back made a mental decision. I really thought that I was just tired and stressed, and didn't want that to be an excuse not to train. 30 minutes later on the treadmill I just couldn't carry on, but still convinced myself that a good nights sleep would do the trick. 

Wednesday morning. 

Sleepily, I pretty much jumped out of bed, out the door, and onto the bus. I had been bare faced the day before and thought I better make a little effort, with colleagues having asked if I was ill. A bit of lippy works wonders after all! Well in this case, my scarlet lipstick was what shocked me into reality! I can do my lipstick without a mirror, its fair to say Im a bit of a pro, but checking it in my small vanity mirror, one side of my mouth looked really low. Hastily checking where I had put the liner I didn't really believe that I could have got it that wrong. As it slowly dawned on my that I hadn't, and that one side of my mouth was lower than the other, my heart started racing. Trying to smile into the mirror - only one side of my mouth smiled back at me. Panic. My mind was racing and tears rolling down my face, this must be a stroke? Good god why wouldn't my face move? Other passengers peered a little anxiously in my direction. So I wiped my eyes, told myself not to panic, and to check it in a full sized mirror in work. The rest is a blur. All I remember is standing in front of the mirror and realising that I was right. Still determined to be composed, I went to grab one of the other managers. On being greeted by one, I broke down straight away in a mess of tears, hyperventilating, and trying to get my words out. They tried to stay calm and were brilliant, but even through my shock I could see the realisation on their face, "you were slurring yesterday weren't you, you were getting annoyed with yourself...". That plus a droopy face equals something seriously wrong. They grabbed another female manager, who positively took my arm, and marched me to A&E. 

So the scene is set! 

I'll tell all that happened next and since then. I don't know if this blog will interest anyone...but my plan is use it to document my journey. 

The journey that started with slurring... and it may well be my own version of her...but will end with superwoman.