Hidden Battles

Hi, I’m Michael and I’m a stroke survivor.

Stroke at any age sucks. Not just the actual stroke, the surgeries, or the rehab - but the impact it has on the wider shape of your life.

And honestly, the younger you are, the harder it can be. Childhood stroke is probably the cruelest of all. The child never gets the chance to fully become the adult they were meant to be - their natural voice, career, confidence, relationships, future family. All interrupted before life properly begins.

Once you enter the stroke world, you also enter the wider disability world. And alongside stroke survivors, you quickly meet people living with all kinds of acquired brain injuries (ABI). Stroke is one form of ABI, but there are many others.

A Rockstar in the ABI World

One of my friends in the ABI community is an absolute champion of post-incident life.

She refused to let her brain injury define the limits of her future. Instead, she built something extraordinary. She created a training course focused on ABI awareness and launched a community television program dedicated to brain injury stories and advocacy.

She’s a genuine rockstar in this space - well known not only because her accident happened more than twenty-five years ago, but because of everything she has created since.

We also share another connection: we’re both 1976 Fire Dragons who turned fifty this year.

Survivor’s Guilt

One thing healthcare professionals constantly remind stroke survivors is this:

Just because someone else has it worse, it does not diminish your own trauma.

That’s important, because otherwise you can slip into survivor’s guilt. You start comparing yourself to others - those who didn’t survive, those with more severe disabilities, those whose lives changed even more dramatically.

I remember shortly after my stroke, my wife’s colleague suffered a stroke while driving. He survived the stroke itself, but it triggered an underlying heart condition no one knew he had. Four days later, he died.

I attended the funeral with my wife and was overwhelmed with guilt.

At one point, I ended up outside the church being comforted by the family of the man who had died.

That moment has never left me.

A Different Kind of Birthday Dinner

Recently, I invited my ABI friend to dinner - just the two of us - to celebrate turning fifty and to talk openly about living life on our own terms.

I’ve always admired her grit and wanted to do something special.

It was also the first time I heard the full story of what she had endured.

I already knew her ABI happened when she was twenty-three. She was back in Melbourne on holiday from Japan, where she had been building a career in hospitality, when she was hit by a speeding car while crossing the road.

Her life came to a screaming halt.

I knew she had rebuilt herself from that experience and gone on to create incredible things for others.

But I didn’t know what came next.

One Battle After Another

Ten years after leaving hospital following the accident, she was diagnosed with Stage 4 Hodgkins Lymphoma. The size of a football, it was squeezing her heart, restricting blood flow to her brain. The doctor said she was breathing through a 5mm hole in her trachea.

Back into hospital.

Chemotherapy - the infamous “red devil.” Then years of Chinese medicine, acupuncture, herbs, juicing, meditation, yoga and becoming a vegetarian.

Fast forward another ten years, her Chinese doctor discovered a tumour in her breast. Again, the same process but without the chemo.

More treatment. More recovery. More rebuilding.

And yet somehow, despite all of it, she remained warm, funny, driven, and committed to helping others.

The Hidden Things We Carry

It was a lovely evening. We spoke about disability, resilience, identity, ageing, purpose, and learning to live life on our own terms.

But the biggest thing I walked away with was a reminder:

Many people carry hidden disabilities and invisible scars.

You never really know what the person sitting opposite you has survived.

The colleague.
The stranger.
The friend laughing over dinner.

Everyone is carrying something.

And sometimes the strongest people are the ones you’d never suspect have fought the hardest battles.