Aphasia

Back in June I spent my first night in a hospital since 1952, when I was born in downtown Houston at the Baptist Memorial Hospital. That humble facility stood where One Shell Plaza now towers over City Hall and the public library. Dr. J. Norris Tucker presided over the momentous occasion on the day after Christmas.

This time I was at the North Central Baptist Hospital in San Antonio as a result of a brief experience of aphasia that made both Melinda and me more than a bit nervous. For a few minutes I simply could not make the right words come out of my mouth, even with effort. We had just pulled into the parking lot of the Oblate School of Theology in San Antonio to visit their facilities. The sign over one of the buildings read “Oblate Ministry Center.” Offhandedly, I read the sign aloud. But those words would not come out of my mouth. I could not pronounce them. I stumbled a couple of times attempting to do so. Melinda worriedly asked me, “What’s wrong?”

I brushed it off. “Nothing,” I said. Another sign identified a building as a gift shop. “Let’s go to the gift shop,” I suggested. But those were not the words that came out. I tried again. Once more the wrong words came out. I could hear them, but I could not fix them. A third try and the same results. Now I was worried. Melinda’s eyes looked like saucers.

“I think we should go to a hospital and get this checked out,” I managed. Those words came out correctly, as did all that followed. But we were concerned about the possibility of a stroke. Melinda drove and I directed her to the North Central Baptist Hospital where I had only a few days before visited a friend’s dad who had experienced a heart attack.

In a short time I was examined by an ER physician, had X-rays and a CT Scan, and we were left to wait for results. The doctor finally came in with his findings. He said the CT indicated that I had experienced a small stroke and that earned me an overnight stay with them for observation and more tests. Before long I was admitted and the additional tests were scheduled.

I’d had no supper and food service hours were past, but the nurse brought me a turkey and cheese sandwich -- still frozen. Melinda drove back to the farm house in Floresville and picked up some stuff we would need, including some books and my laptop. We settled in to the experience.

The next day I had an MRI, an MRA, an echocardiogram, an ultrasound of my carotid arteries, and enough blood work to leave me pale. Then once more, we waited for results.

I felt completely normal. Life was good. The hospital proudly served Starbuck’s coffee in the lobby and they had wireless internet services in the room. Melinda brought me a cup of Pike Place and I opened my MacBook. I was lying in bed on a Saturday afternoon being attended to by the nursing staff. Melinda sat by my bedside reading. Tests had already concluded that I had both a brain and a heart, but those findings were about to be called into question.

The phone rang. It was our friend David, whose dad had had the heart attack earlier in the week, and who was still in the same hospital as I. David had heard I was there and was going to stop by when he came to visit his dad. “Do you need anything?” he kindly asked.

I surveyed my situation. “No,” I said. “I don’t need anything. I’ve got everything I need. I’ve got my Starbuck’s, my laptop, my WiFi . . .”

“Your WiFi!” Melinda erupted. “I thought you were going to say ‘my WIFE’!”

“Oh, no!” I tried feebly. “Call the nurse! It’s happening again! The wrong words are coming out of my mouth!”

She didn’t buy it. Instead, I’ve had to pay for it.

I was eventually diagnosed with a TIA (transient ischemic attack). The tiny spots that showed up on the CT were from some earlier incidents, apparently. A cardiologist in Houston later ran his share of tests, eliminating risk factors for future incidents. I’m doing fine in that regard.

I was also diagnosed with an advanced case of SHS (stupid husband syndrome). I sometimes manage to keep it in remission for days at a time before symptoms erupt again. I can only hope it does not prove fatal.