One Strong Brave Determined Day at a Time

Introduction

A few months ago, my world changed. I suffered a spinal artery stroke that resulted in an incomplete spinal cord injury at the level of T2-T4 (thoracic vertebrae 2 to 4). Overnight, I found myself unable to move my body from my chest down. Even my breathing muscles were affected.

Just to give you some perspective: I’m a mother of two toddlers, a full-time healthcare manager, and an occupational therapist who works with clients facing challenges remarkably similar to what I’m now living through. At home, we also have two energetic dogs who keep our household in constant motion.

So to go from being the caregiver, the professional, the active mother and wife — to suddenly becoming the patient, unable to move — was nothing short of terrifying. It felt like the ground had been ripped from under me. Being on the other side of the spectrum was incredibly scary, and the journey ahead seemed like an utterly daunting process.

Why I’m Writing This

When this happened, I immediately leaned on every bit of my clinical experience to guide my recovery. I also scoured research articles on incomplete spinal cord injuries from spinal artery infarcts, hoping to find clear, practical guidance — but quickly discovered there simply wasn’t much out there tailored to my specific condition. So in this blog, I want to share the things that have helped me so far. This is my journey, shaped by my lived experience, informed by my professional background, and supported by evidence I’ve explored along the way.

I hope that by sharing this, it might offer support, hope, or direction to others who find themselves in a similarly frightening and uncertain place.

My Top Tips on Getting Started with Recovery

1. Advocate for early, extensive therapy as soon as you’re medically cleared

This is the very first tip I would share with anyone facing a major health event — whether it’s a stroke, spinal cord injury, fractures, brain injury, or another serious condition.

As soon as you are medically stable, advocate (or have your loved ones advocate) for more intensive therapy. Research consistently shows that the longer we remain confined to a hospital bed, the more muscle mass we lose — and the higher our risks become for complications like pneumonia or pressure injuries. So getting out of bed, sitting up in a wheelchair, and starting to move are crucial even in the acute phase of an injury. Early mobilization makes a huge difference in long-term outcomes.

2. Prepare your mind for therapy by focusing on the present

When I started with therapy, my mind was tangled in worries about my health, my prognosis, and all the uncertainty that lay ahead. That anxiety created a vicious cycle, pulling me deeper into negative thoughts. By day four or five in the acute hospital, I knew I needed a shift. I began working on clearing my mind, trying not to obsess about the future, but instead staying present in each moment. That didn’t mean ignoring how I felt. There were times I was vulnerable, sad, and emotionally overwhelmed. I allowed myself to feel it. My occupational therapy experience reminded me that I was not alone. So many people are fighting unimaginable battles — whether it’s cancer, trauma, accidents, or other illnesses. I wasn’t alone, and I didn’t have to go through this alone.

Accepting that this was my reality right now — that I was paralyzed from the chest down — helped me stop clinging to the past. I rooted myself in the present while still holding a hopeful vision for the future.

3. Use mental imagery to engage your brain and nervous system

In the very beginning, I had almost no meaningful movement in my legs, ankles, hips, or knees. But I didn’t let that stop me from engaging my nervous system.

I began imagining moving my ankles up and down, bending my knees, and lifting my hips. After a few days of this mental practice, I noticed small flickers of movement in my right ankle.

This wasn’t a miracle — it’s solid neuroscience. Our brains have an incredible capacity to reorganize and form new connections through neuroplasticity. Even simply imagining movement (known as motor imagery) activates the same neural networks used in actual movement. This can strengthen those pathways and support motor recovery in conditions like stroke and spinal cord injury. In my case, the blood supply to part of my spinal cord had been cut off, meaning it couldn’t send signals above and below my chest-level injury. But through mental imagery and passive exercises, we began sending signals to the brain again, helping facilitate the recovery process.

Supporting Recovery Through Nutrition

Recovering from this kind of injury takes an enormous amount of energy. Even my breathing muscles were working overtime, and simple tasks left me completely drained.

So I focused heavily on nutrition.

• I couldn’t eat large meals, so I opted for small, frequent meals every two hours to keep my energy up.

• I made sure to include healthy fats, which are crucial for managing inflammation and providing sustained energy.

• I prioritized quality proteins to support muscle rebuilding.

• I loaded up on whole fruits and vegetables, rich in antioxidants and nutrients.

• And I drank plenty of water, which is essential for circulation, healing, and maintaining balance.

  
  

Finding Calm Through Breathing and Mindfulness

One of the hardest parts of this journey was managing anxiety. When something so frightening happens to your body, your mind jumps into overdrive, worrying about the past, the present, and the future.

I dedicated time each day — often multiple times a day — to breathing exercises and short guided meditations. Even just five minutes helped me anchor myself, take deeper breaths, and stay with my body instead of spiraling into “what ifs.”

Holding on to Gratitude and My Support System

Alongside breathwork, gratitude became one of my strongest anchors.

I was fortunate to have an incredible support system. My husband, kids, parents, in-laws, my brother, my sister-in-laws, my niece, and my friends—everyone stepped up. They helped with the kids, the dogs, meals, and the house, so after that first intense week, I could truly focus on my recovery without constant worry.

Reflecting on this fills me with profound thankfulness. Without them, there’s simply no way I could have gotten through these weeks.

A New Lens on Life

I’m only into my first year of recovery and still have a long journey ahead to regain full independence. But this experience has already changed me in ways I couldn’t have imagined.

Before this, I was a busy, often anxious working mother. Now, I understand the importance of staying present, breathing, savoring moments with my family, and caring for my health in every dimension — physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

This isn’t something I plan to stop once I’m “better.” It’s a perspective I hope to carry with me long after my body has healed.

Looking Ahead

When I first tried searching for recovery resources specific to my condition, I found very little. That’s part of why I wanted to share my story here — not only from my experience as a patient, but also through the lens of my professional background and the research I’ve explored to guide my healing.

I plan to continue sharing more about:

• The exercises and activities that have helped restore my mobility

• How I’ve adapted daily tasks during rehab and at home

• Tools and strategies that have supported my mental health along the way

I’d also love to hear from you:

• What did your recovery look like?

• What helped you — physically, mentally, or emotionally?

Please feel free to share your story or reach out. By opening up these conversations, we can support each other in ways that medical journals and handouts never could.

Thank You

Thank you for reading and for being part of my circle, even in this small way. Whether you’re facing your health challenges or simply looking to live more mindfully, I hope something here encourages you.

There’s so much more ahead — and I’m grateful to keep sharing it with you. 💛