In 1995, Kate Adamson was leading an enviable life as a vibrant, happily married 33-year-old with two young daughters living in Newport Beach. Her active lifestyle and passion for fitness was leading to work as a personal trainer. ”Then the unimaginable happened when she suffered a stroke, paralyzing her from head to toe. In ‘Kate’s Journey,’ Adamson, a native of New Zealand, tells her extraordinary story of recovery, one for which she was given little hope. ”Adamson will speak and sign copies of her book on Thursday, October 28 at 7:30 p.m. at Village Books, 1049 Swarthmore. ”Despite overall good health, Adamson had suffered from periodic migraine headaches. She went to bed with a severe one on June 28, 1995 and awoke the next morning with other symptoms: dizziness, slurred speech and the inability to move her left arm. Despite exhibiting classic signs of stroke, no one in the emergency room suspected it because Adamson was so young. ‘The myth still persists that it is only going to happen to someone old with gray hair,’ Adamson said. ”In fact, one-third of all stroke victims are under the age of 65, according to the American Heart Association. Statistics show that stroke is the nation’s third-ranking cause of death, following hearth disease and cancer. It is also the leading cause of disability in the U.S. ”The time between proper diagnosis of stroke and treatment is critical. In Adamson’s case, by the time it was determined that she had suffered a severe stroke at the base of her brain, she was paralyzed, unable to speak and given a one percent chance of survival. Medical staff predicted that even if her life were saved, she would be in a vegetative state. ”The shining light resided in her husband, Steven, and members of her church, both of whom never lost their belief she could make a full recovery. Adamson remembers hearing Steven say to the doctors ‘she’s going to be that one percent,’ planting the seed for her own amazing will to live and recover. ”Following her stroke came 50 nightmarish days in the ICU, during which Adamson was conscious, could feel pain, but could not move any part of her body, a condition known as locked-in syndrome. Tubes surgically placed in her stomach and throat allowed her to eat and breathe. ”’When I was locked into my body, it was so incredibly lonely and isolating,’ Adamson says. ‘I had no one to talk to except God.’ Eventually, Adamson found a way to communicate by blinking her eyes and later, regaining some small movement in her body, she was allowed admittance to a rehabilitation program. ”During weeks of grueling rehab, learning to swallow was one of Adamson’s big milestones, allowing her to eat and drink for the first time in weeks. Working daily with therapists, she embarked on the slow, exhausting process of regaining the use of her legs, arms and hands. ‘Miracles happened every day,’ says Adamson, who enlisted her family’s help in keeping a journal of each day’s triumphs. I remember the first time I could blow my nose, the first time I could sit on the toilet. ”’I had to have tunnel vision and complete focus,’ Adamson says about rehab. ‘It’s the hardest thing not looking down the road thinking ‘I want to walk, why can’t I walk?” ”Beyond the physical struggles Adamson endured, her road to recovery was fraught with enormous emotional difficulties, chief among them the anguish of being away from her kids. The trauma also took its toll on her marriage, leading to a cycle of separation, divorce and later reconciliation. ”Adamson has turned her pain and suffering into a positive force, working as an energetic advocate for stroke victims, others who suffer paralysis and their families. She has testified before Congress for more funding for stroke and heart research and is the national spokesperson for the American Stroke Association. She is also a much-sought-after inspirational speaker. ‘Tragedy can happen to anyone,’ Adamson says. ‘What I teach is how to get on the other side of it.’ ”Though not fully recovered (Adamson still doesn’t have use of her left arm), she feels she has little to complain about. ‘It’s important not to sit on the pity pot,’ she says ‘but to keep moving forward with what you can do.’
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