Anything but Frank

Prologue: On April 28, 2020, I experienced a hemorrhagic stroke that forever changed my life. It was a moment that not only altered my personal world but also had a profound impact on my loved ones, friends, and colleagues. I never imagined that a single, devastating event would cause such a ripple effect in so many lives. The incident unfolded quickly. I was rushed to a nearby hospital, where the emergency room doctor immediately contacted the on-call neurosurgeon. When the surgeon arrived, he reviewed my CT scan and initially believed he was looking at a tumor, possibly one that had metastasized from the kidney cancer I had fought off fourteen years earlier. The surgeon consulted with my wife and two daughters, and swiftly made the decision to operate. The procedure, which lasted four long hours, was a race against time. He worked tirelessly to stop the bleeding in my brain and remove what he believed to be the mass. Thankfully, the surgery was successful. After the operation, I was placed in a medically induced coma to allow my body time to heal and recover. I spent the next ten days unconscious, unaware of the world around me, though my mind was far from idle. During this time, I experienced vivid dreams that were so lifelike that I still remember them in minute detail. These dreams were not like the typical fleeting fantasies we have at night; they felt more like memories—so real and tangible that I often think of them as false memories, living in my mind as though they were actual experiences. When I finally awoke from the coma, I was in a fog. The world seemed distant, unfamiliar. My wife, Karri, and our two daughters were not able to be with me because of the Covid-19 pandemic restrictions, but they supported me through every moment. I had many questions about my dreams, but no answers. Despite the fact that I could vividly recall what I had dreamed, putting the thoughts into words became an almost insurmountable challenge. When I tried to speak, the words wouldn't come. My attempts to write them down were similarly frustrating, as my handwriting was slow, shaky, and barely legible, as if I were a toddler trying to learn how to hold a pencil. Three months later, after my stroke, I began outpatient therapy to help me recover my speech and motor functions. It was during one of these therapy sessions that I shared with my speech therapist, Susan, the existence of my vivid "coma dreams." She was immediately intrigued and encouraged me to try typing out one of the dreams on a laptop as part of my homework. I was skeptical, unsure of whether I would be able to make any progress at all. But to my surprise, I found that I could type what was in my mind, even though it was a slow and painstaking process. Due to the paralysis in my right hand, I could only type with my left hand, which made each sentence feel like an accomplishment. At my next therapy session, I proudly handed Susan a printed copy of my first dream. She placed it in a folder, promising to read it later so as not to take time away from our session. I continued to write and type out more dreams in the weeks that followed. Each week, I eagerly awaited her feedback, excited to see what she would say about my progress. It reminded me of Ralphie from A Christmas Story, waiting in anticipation for his grade on the essay about wanting a Red Ryder BB gun. But unlike Ralphie, I wasn't met with a warning about "shooting my eye out." Instead, Susan's feedback was positive and encouraging. She told me that my dreams were incredibly detailed and well-written. But then, she said something that struck me deeply. She believed that my dreams coupled with my story of my recovery would make a great book. The more we talked about it, the more I realized that this story could help others—other stroke survivors, their families, and anyone who had ever felt the isolation that comes with being separated from loved ones. My journey, and the vivid memories of those dreams, could serve as a source of understanding for others who had endured something similar. Susan's suggestion planted a seed in my mind, and after much thought and encouragement from her, I decided to take the leap. The result is this book—an account of my dreams, my recovery, and the unbreakable bond I share with my family. Through these pages, I hope to offer a glimpse into what it’s like to experience a life-altering event, to battle through the darkness, and to emerge on the other side with a renewed sense of connection and gratitude. This book is not just my story; it is a tribute to the strength of the human spirit, the unwavering support of family, and the incredible healing power of time and patience. It is a reminder that no matter how far apart we may feel, love and connection can always bring us back to each other.