My stroke

So, I woke up in the hospital not knowing what had happened, but I remember thinking . . . what was I thinking. I guess I wasn't thinking. I was just trying to go through the motions and hoped that it would come to me. I didn't even think that there was anything really wrong with me. My Mom, and Carl, and Joe, and my Dad were all there but I am not sure (in my fragmented mind) when or how each person came to pass through my room. I was aware of my knee surgery, but that was five or six months prior, and I came to be aware of my stroke. I called it "striked" but everyone knew what I was going for. But, even with the realization of a stroke, I didn't think that there was anything to worry about. So I couldn't move around properly, or eat (for a very short while), or use the bathroom, or raise my hand, or smile, or even speak like I wanted, I could sleep, and that is IMPORTANT! I'd sleep when I was watching TV and that was good because at least I could change the channel in my dreams. They weren't really dreams, more like almost dreams. You know, that space between dreaming and wakefulness where everything is just fine. That's when I'd change the channel.