S. T. R. spells "stroke"

My friend Patrick Brooke included my email address in his "public service duty" round robin yesterday, asking recipients to pass it on. I'm afraid I usually bin this sort of request, but Patrick's message is a helpful one. He writes as follows:

Neurologists say that if they can get to a stroke victim within three hours, they can reverse the effects of a stroke – fully. The trick is getting a stroke recognized, diagnosed, and then getting the patient medically cared for within that three hours.

Sometimes the symptoms of a stroke are difficult to identify; and lack of awareness spells disaster. The victim may suffer severe brain damage when people nearby fail to recognize stroke symptoms.

A bystander can recognize a stroke by asking three simple questions:

S * Ask the individual to SMILE.

T * Ask them to TALK and SPEAK A SIMPLE SENTENCE (coherently) – "It's sunny today."

R * Ask them to RAISE BOTH ARMS.

If they have trouble with ANY ONE of these tasks, call 999 immediately and describe the symptoms.

In addition, you can ask possible stroke victims to stick out their tongue. If the tongue is crooked (that is if it goes to one side or the other), that is another indication of a stroke.

Against this, my photograph looks rather flippant: our son Edmund (33 today) stroking Tosca, his cat.

"The Diving Bell & the Butterfly"

I wasn't much looking forward to seeing this Cheltenham Film Society offering, after the diasappointment of last week's screening. But it turned out to be one of the very best I've seen, from the point of view both of the story, and the way it was told. A film of immense power and beauty.

A man in his prime, Jean-Do, has a massive stroke, which he survives - but only just. He is tied up completely within himself, able to think perfectly clearly, but not to communicate except by blinking one of his eyes. Miraculously, he finds a beautiful "interpreter": his autobiography is written and published, shortly after which he dies.

This much many people - me included - had heard about already. What the film brings is another dimension. The narrative from within is interrupted by flashbacks, not in chronological sequence. These go to illustrate Jean-Do's psychological pain - for example his failure to contact a friend released after being held hostage for years: it would have been Jean-Do himself, but he had given up his plane seat to the hostage.

Jean-Do in his diving bell at first just wants to be allowed to die; but through the compassion and kindness he receives, he determines to live, without self-pity, what life he has to the full. So does the butterfly in its short span, spreading its beautiful wings for all to admire.