Hemorrhagic stroke reflections

 I have no idea how many posts this will be, but here goes: 

1. It takes a bloody long time

I watched a video of a kid learning to walk and thought, "Yes! That's it!"

Only it wasn't. By a long shot. 

Before the stroke I played guitar. I wasn't any good — a 7-year-old could do better — but I knew what I was doing. 

In last night's dream I was playing guitar — G, C, D, E, A, F (the "Campfire Chords") — and playing it very cleanly. I can do no such thing in reality. I was always bad. 

"Hey boss — de pain, de pain!"

Nobody tells a hemorrhagic stroke survivor about the pain — but it's there. It makes things very slow indeed. 

And because this was a song I was learning on guitar: