My bi-weekly stroke meetings did give me the opportunity to practice speaking. My speech therapist Catherine was right. It wasn’t deep or meaningful conversations, but it was practice. How are you? What have you been doing? You keeping well? Where y’at? We gave the predictable answers to those questions, but it was practice talking aloud.
Not much of a chance resolve human kind’s pressing issues such as whether to take an extended warranty; should Scotland leave the UK and rely on a haggis economy; should the French president be slapped for ingratitude; should TV choirmaster Gareth Malone take his next assignment: guiding the Tourettes Syndrome Evangelical Church Choir through the maze of misunderstanding to reach number one in the charts; is the HS2 rail project going ahead since it’s endangering isolated settlements of rare toffs. No, we never got that deep.
But then one day an editor of Stroke magazine named Zoe, (put out by The Stroke Association who else?), showed up at the meeting wanting to know what we thought of the publication and do we have ideas what we might like to see in its pages. Others came up with their ideas like recipes, use of Q10, things like that.
But I saw, at last, a chance to use my talents in the media business, post stroke. I had, after all, done such consulting before but Zoe wanted feedback that day. Study for 30 minutes and then give feedback? I wanted more time to think them through, although I immediately came up with ideas after a flip through of the publication, but I planned to expand on them. I “talked” to Zoe about emailing her with specific proposals (as best I could). Her eyes were encouraging.