I went swimming, so we could enjoy a hug in the water.I also had to confront the fact that the sands on which my friendships were built had shifted, too.
At first, I was scared people might feel obliged to see me, out of pity or duty. I couldn’t help thinking to myself, would I be boring now that I could no longer dance all night in my six-inch heels?
Could I still be fun in a wheelchair?Within weeks of my stroke, a group of us met up in a restaurant close to the hospital. As soon as I arrived, everyone rushed over to me and I felt like I couldn’t breathe; I had no idea I’d feel so claustrophobic in my chair.
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