When you survive a stroke, you quickly realize that recovery isn’t a straight road—it’s more like a winding trail full of surprises, detours, and unexpected milestones. Some days feel heavy, but then there are days when something small happens, and suddenly the world feels brighter.
At 8 months into my recovery, I experienced one of those breakthroughs: I was able to jump. Not high, not far—just small hops. But for me, those little jumps felt like a victory parade. It was proof that my body was remembering, reconnecting, and reclaiming abilities I once feared were gone for good.
Fast forward to yesterday—1 year and 3 months into my journey—and another “ordinary miracle” took place. I perspired. Yes, I sweated for the first time since my stroke. Something most people take for granted felt almost magical to me. I realized how much I missed that simple sign of life, energy, and movement. Imagine going months without it, then suddenly feeling your body heat up, your skin damp, your heart saying, I’m working again.
These may seem small in the grand scheme of things, but to me, they are phenomenal. They remind me that healing doesn’t just mean walking faster or lifting heavier—it means cherishing every sign that the body is rebuilding itself, piece by piece.
Now, at 1 year and 3 months as a survivor, I can say with gratitude that there are many more improvements I’ve noticed, but these two moments stand out. They taught me patience, persistence, and appreciation for progress in all its forms.
If you’re on the same road of recovery—or if you’re supporting someone who is—never underestimate the power of small victories. They are not “just small hops” or “just sweat.” They are proof that the journey continues, that life goes on, and that every day holds the possibility of something new, something phenomenal.
Keep going. Healing is not about rushing—it’s about rising, one small miracle at a time.
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