Category Archives: Rehab

Now We Are Five

This past weekend, I celebrated my Fifth Strokiversary (1, 2, 3, 4). Which I guess means Stroke Bloke is five.

He's aff his heid on honey again
*FIVE*, you dozy ursine prat!

A fair amount of water has passed under the bridge in five years. Let’s reflect, shall we?

[For more personal reflections, join me at the Apoplexy Tiny Letter.] Continue reading Now We Are Five

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Reasons To Be Fearful Pt 3

Sometimes it’s a good idea to have someone keeping an eye on you.

I'm more of a TJ Hooker guy, personally
Not you, dude. Aren’t you capitalism or a disappointed god or something?

One of a 24-hour staff of nurses, maybe. Like, if you’ve suffered a catastrophic brain injury and don’t know that if you try to get out of bed to go to the bathroom your whole left side will give way and you’ll fall terrifyingly onto your wardmate – Hi, mom!

[Keep an eye on Stroke Bloke’s activities by signing up for the Apoplexy Tiny Letter]

Continue reading Reasons To Be Fearful Pt 3

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Digesta Plaga #10

Isn’t it always the way? You wait over a year for a Stroke Digest post, then two come along at once.  Last week’s Apoplexy Tiny Letter – accompanying the post Muppets – featured Loretta Lynn performing her 1971 #1 Country hit One’s on the Way with the Henson crew. And that’s how we find ourselves at Digesta Plaga #10

Continue reading Digesta Plaga #10

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Next!

After last week’s Tangents, let’s get back on topic this week, shall we? Facebook has been reminding me this week of the vacation Mrs Stroke Bloke and I took in Thailand this time five years ago.

Er, yeah?
Does that look like a bloke / Who’s about to have a stroke?

That was kind of the last hurrah for Ricky 1.0, before returning once again to the stresses – and fun – of my NYC life, and shortly thereafter, a massive haemorrhage stroke. I still picture the Maikhao Dream Resort when a guided meditation leads me to my happy place.

[Make your happy place the Apoplexy Tiny Litter. Or summat.Continue reading Next!

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‘Til Tuesday

Hi! I think I’m going to change apoplectic.me’s regular posting day to Tuesday.

Over the weekend, there are weekend things to do, and then by Monday all the other things to do have built up and there are regular weekday things to do and I want to do all the things because if I don’t do all the things the to-do list will just get longer and longer for ever and ever amen.

Not Tuesday
Yes, I *know*.

[More whimsy and more personal reflections are available in the Apoplexy Tiny Letter.]

Continue reading ‘Til Tuesday

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Aye, Robot

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about whether a computer could write a successful musical.

I’m pleased to report that the conclusion of Ivan Hewett’s Telegraph article and Cat Gale’s Sky Arts documentary seems to be “Yes, a computer can write a successful musical.” And I’m even more happy to relate that the answer is also “No, a computer can’t write a successful musical.”

There’s a million things I haven’t done / But just you wait…

Continue reading Aye, Robot

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Intermission

Stroke Bloke and The Fabulous Beth spent Thursday and Friday nights
in Düsseldorf, Germany…

Ja, denn ich liebe die Schwarzweißfotos!

…and our little break means a pause in considering how countries relate a vision of themselves through anthems (1, 2). ‘Cos that’s a big subject, as illustrated by The Prof’s awesome comment to last week’s post.

As we dashed headlong through Düsseldorf, I was instead reminded of #strokier posts. And, indeed, a tweet tweeted from my bed at The Hospital for Joint Diseases during my in-house rehabilitation:

Continue reading Intermission

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Thanksgiving

As Thanksgiving approaches, I guess I’ve got a lot to be thankful for. Not least, being 0.5% of an American abroad, I get to attend a number of Thanksgiving Dinners in excess of one.

Veggie Tartlet didn’t show up, but Beth’s one is pictured bottom right

[For more personal news and occasional whimsy – and to join the conversation – check out the Apoplexy Newsletter.] Continue reading Thanksgiving

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Crosstown Traffic

People love making transatlantic comparisons. Think Sting’s Englishman in New York. Think Toby Young’s How to Lose Friends and Alienate People. Think Jeremy Clarkson’s unfortunately abortive attempt to get himself shot in The South.

Aw, c’mon Jez. It’s just a bit of fun!

[Stroke Bloke’s back from holiday. To make up for missing last week, I commend to you this post that predated Ada Lovelace Day on 13 October.]

Continue reading Crosstown Traffic

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The Golden Lasso of Truth

If the Edinburgh International Festival starts in four days, then it must be the beginning of August. It’s even a nice day in Auld Reekie, as if the weather is any guide to what day time of year it is around here.

Oh, it’s sprummtumner!

And if it’s the beginning of August, we must be approaching the third anniversary of The Event – as suggested by last week’s post. I which case, it must also be time that my mindfulness practice, in its largest sense, calls for a check-in.

[What else has been going on? Check out the Apoplexy Tiny Letter to find out!]

Continue reading The Golden Lasso of Truth

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