Prof Terence Dolan is determined to regain full mobility after suffering a stroke, writes Catherine Foley
THERE WAS no warning for Prof Terence Dolan, author of the best-selling Hiberno-English dictionary, broadcaster and head of UCD's English department. When he suffered a major stroke earlier this year, it came out of the blue and it terrified him.
He remained conscious throughout the stroke. Last week, as he lay in his bed in Tallaght Hospital in Dublin, the frightening experience was as vivid and frightening in his mind as ever.
It happened while he was making a phone call in his bedroom one Sunday afternoon in February, he says. "I got entangled in the wires of the phone and I fell over. My legs wouldn't move. There was no warning for it at all. I couldn't move . . . I had been working right up to the day before. It just happened."
Although high blood pressure is the major factor that puts people at risk of suffering a stroke due to cerebral haemorrhage, he says that at the time and in the run-up to his stroke, "I did not feel stressed at all".
He lay paralysed on his bedroom floor for over an hour, listening to the telephone ringing, unable to answer it.
"I was absolutely terrified. I remember the phone was ringing and I couldn't get myself back to pick it up," he says.
His body had shut down. "There was no engine working at all," he says, with a wry shake of his head. Finally a friend with a key called to his house and found him.
The ambulance came very quickly and took him to Beaumont Hospital. "The ambulance crew was wonderful and texted ahead," he says.
After some tests, he was operated on. Pointing to a fine scar that crosses his scalp, he says, "That's my war wound. There was no clot. It was a big bleed. Immediately after the operation I was able to talk to people around me.
"I was terrified of losing my voice. I lecture and I do a lot of radio," says Dolan, whose lively lectures in Belfield as well as his weekly contributions on the etymology of words on radio, including Newstalk 106 with Sean Moncrief over the past five years, have a big following.
Listeners and students all love his "pythonic humour" as he describes it, which is explained by his early connection with the Monty Python crew in the UK in the early 1970s.
"I want to go back lecturing and broadcasting," says Dolan, whose weeks in recovery have been highly charged and emotional.
He says it is "very frustrating" to lie in bed without the use of one of his legs and his left arm. "If I want to pick up a book or turn a page, I can't with just one hand."
There are other ongoing challenges, according to the renowned lexicographer. "The lack of privacy in hospital is such a shock," he says. "You have to get used to those ghastly bedpans. I must say I can't praise the nurses here highly enough. They are very caring and very attentive."
The nights are long, he says, "because my mind is so active. It's racing."
In the early days, he had to relearn how to swallow too. Although he is back on a normal diet now, he describes the enriched drink he was given in the early days as "brown yellow and custardy - horrible, you drink it as if it's tea, sometimes with a spoon. It's thick coagulated stuff."
Needing help to eat something was also "humiliating", he says. "You feel so dependent. If you try to feed yourself, you slop food all over the place. They say I'm going to have to redo my house and put a downstairs bathroom in."
As he attempts to explain what it's like to live in recovery from a stroke, he says "your whole world is turned upside down".
Thinking about his life before the stroke, he says "I was working flat out . . . I led a very independent life, lecturing in London, New York and Paris."
For a moment, the contrast is almost too much to contemplate. "You become quite emotional," he says.
He did shed tears "especially when talking to my friends. It's almost like a personality change," he says, his voice beginning to choke up with emotion.
"From almost an arrogant self confidence, I could hop on a plane," he says. In general, he's been healthy throughout his life. "I've been very lucky, I've been very fit and very well."
But today, sessions with the physiotherapists have given him hope. "I'm optimistic because the staff says things are going well with my recovery. Things are moving quite fast, which is good."
It will be months before he can go home. He's even compiling new words for the next edition of his dictionary, such as "coolaboola", which his physiotherapist says when he completes a difficult physical exercise.
As he struggles to regain his mobility and his independence, the idea of returning to lecturing his students, who can number up to 500 in the main auditorium, motivates him. "I greatly enjoy teaching. I miss it dreadfully," he says.
Although he has faith in God and his room is festooned with get well mass bouquets, his focus, he says, is not on spiritual things but on "function" and on "getting better as soon as possible and retrieving my independence".
As he ponders the consequences of the stroke and how he's having to learn how to walk again, he passes on "the bit of wisdom" he has learned.
"Anyone over 40 should have their blood pressure taken regularly by their GP," he says.
Stroke care: state of our services
The first national audit on stroke care, revealing the truth about stroke care in hospitals and communities across Ireland, will be launched tomorrow by the Irish Heart Foundation (IHF).
According to the latest figures, 10,000 people suffer stroke annually, 2,500 die from stroke and currently there are 30,000 with a disability.
There is just one hospital unit designated solely to strokes in the Republic, which is in the Mater Hospital, according to the IHF.
A stroke is caused by an interruption of the blood supply to part of the brain. The term stroke comes from the fact that it usually happens without warning, "striking" the person out of the blue.
It is sometimes referred to as a cerebrovascular accident (CVA).
The Irish Heart Foundation National Audit of Stroke Care will comprise six surveys: an organisational survey carried out with medical staff in public hospitals with acute stroke services; a clinical audit which provided access to medical charts; a survey of randomly selected GPs nationwide; a survey of allied health professionals; a nursing home survey; and a patient/carer survey.
The report was largely funded by donations to the IHF.
• For further information on this condition, visit www.irishheart.ie or call the locall helpline at 1890 432 787, which is also run by the IHF.