What Inspires You?

On the 11 January 2002, at the age of 35, I suffered a stroke. In that moment, my life changed forever.

Before this day my life was very busy. Working for the NSW Government as an Executive Support Officer, I felt then my life was perfect!

I would often sacrifice my own personal time (including weekends, if required) in order to meet deadlines, the nature of which became highly regarded by the senior officers I worked for. It was often stressful and many late nights were spent perfecting documents for use the next day.

Back then I would prefer to relinquish precious time with family and friends to simply get the job done. My work ethics were extremely strong and the sense of loyalty to my superiors and the Department in general, even stronger. I was well respected and treated as a valued team member, often setting the precedence for providing exceptional secretarial and administrative services.

My nutrition and general health, on the other hand, however, were really starting to suffer. To what extend would not become evident until later. I remembered having a distinct aversion to structured exercise, had never, ever been to a gym and nor had the slightest interest in knowing anything about them.

Instead I chose to rely heavily on smoking regularly and incidental exercise to keep me slim, which seemed to work for the most part. In fact if I saw people running in the street, all sweaty, huffing and puffing I would simply think to myself, "What an idiot!" Years later, I am now one of those 'idiots'.

My trouble all began one Christmas on 30 December 2001.

I was visiting my Mum and Dad in the country when I was on holiday. Suddenly, without warning I developed a really bad headache. Immediately I took two of my special migraine tablets (having suffered from these attacks ever since the age of nine) It turned quickly into a dreaded migraine and soon became a very severe attack with uncontrollable vomiting. Mum called an ambulance to the family home and in the meantime the only thing that brought me a little relief was to have a really hot shower. After using all my Mum's hot water, then my aunts and finally a that of a friend of the family from up the road, the ambulance finally arrived.

I was very weak and laying on floor of the shower when the ambulance officers came for me. It was during my frightful ride back to the hospital in Goulburn, which was 45 km away, that I began vomiting blood. Once inside emergency I was given morphine to help with the terrible pain. Hours later the vomiting was replaced with dry retching. My stomach felt like it had turned itself inside-out and it hurt every time I breathed from the all the straining. My eyes were swollen and my head felt like it was going to explode. I could only suck on ice-cubes which the nursing staff gave to me as I could not hold down any water.

From here and throughout early January until that eventful day, I was hospitalised a number of times with these severe migraine attacks.

On that day, 11 January after my appointment with a heart specialist who had taken an interest in my case while I had been in emergency I waited for my pathologist appointment the specialist was organising. Finally, the 'go-ahead' was given and Mum, Dad and I were off to the hospital pathology unit. We were all very hopeful that the cause of my dreadful migraines would soon be identified.

As I was sitting in the chair at the pathologists, I began to feel very faint and quite disorientated. I had a 'pins and needles' sensation in and around my mouth which felt very weird to me. Then suddenly, I lost all senses, collapsed forward and blacked out. I sank into oblivion.

When I regained consciousness, my nightmare had only just begun. I recall being surrounded by a number of people looking down at me. "Are you, okay, Tracey?...can you hear me?" I could not speak so I gave a weak nod. I couldn't really understand what they were saying or what was going on around me and I became very frightened and confused, a different voice told me to lay still because I was bleeding badly from knocking my head on something as I fell off the chair.

I felt no pain at all then and sounds of any kind were muffled. I tried to get up and that's when I discovered I couldn't move a muscle, I was paralysed....seeing the fear on my mother's face just made me break down and I began to cry. I was then admitted to emergency for the umpteenth time and wondered if I was just dreaming some silly dream and that when I woke everything would be okay...or would it?

After rigorous tests including CTs, MRIs MRAs X-rays etc, along with numerous trips to e different neurologists, a cardiologist, a physio, a speech therapist and other related specialists, it was finally confirmed that I had indeed suffered a TIA, a type of mild stroke, as young as I was. The migraines I was told later were the prelude or little stroke episodes leading up to the bigger one. The exact cause, however, still undetermined but I was advised by the heart specialist that it was probably because of my lifestyle and may have been due to a plaque build up on an arterial wall or a cholesterol/blood clot that had come from somewhere else.

I couldn't believe it! Surely they had made a mistake!

As I began to grapple with the shock and disbelief of what had happened it was hard to comprehend what they actually meant by suffering from a stroke, I had no idea. I remember becoming so distraught with the whole situation and having my life suddenly turned upside down that my self esteem had finally hit rock bottom. I wanted to die! I also remember thinking 'My God, if this was only minor, I would hate to think what my life would have been like if it were a major stroke!' I was one of the lucky ones.

In a cruel twist of fate and in the blink of an eye, I had lost a lot of what we all take for granted. It could have been far worse if it were not for the quick thinking reactions of the hospital staff. Every facet of my life had suddenly changed. From simple things like showering, going to the bathroom by yourself, dressing, eating, dialing phone numbers, remembering what I did only moments ago to being able to carry on a normal conversation, were all so impaired. It wasn't fair.
Later, after being exposed to intense bouts of cognitive testing I discovered just how much damage the stroke did to me, as minor as it was. Impairing my nervous system in general and the left hemisphere of the brain, it affected my lateral thinking, psychological processes and physiological functions. One of the worst as I recall was not being able to write my own name!

I became angry and upset and easily confused during those terrible days. I felt extremely depressed, usually all the time. Feelings of worthlessness and anxiety plagued me and thoughts of suicide were never far from my mind. I resorted to crying a lot, slept an awful lot and I was so terribly fatigued. I dreaded my physio appointments because that meant more pain. I swore a lot too! One day at a hydrotherapy session with my physio, I slipped, lost my balance and went under. It was when I was under the water, something happened inside of me and I wanted to live, succeed and recover fully. I cannot explain what it was that was my trigger for survival, I just knew I didn't want to be a statistic. Maybe the water had something to do with it...like being reborn again. It was warm and supporting. I felt comfort.

This incident changed me and I began to grip on to life with sheer determination. I coped to the best of my abilities while being in a state of devastation. From devastation I began to re-program my mind and started to use words to describe my present state as 'challenging' or that I was in a state of 'transition'. Though admittedly, many times during my intensive rehabilitation I would resort to the negative and I would think to myself how dreadfully unfair life can be at times. I wanted to give in and just quietly die. I went through and sometimes still go through these cycles, but I knew I had two choices. One of just existing and the other of fighting to be better. I chose the latter and have not looked back.

Through the support that surrounded me from the love of my mother, other family members and my closest of friends, the support officers and care givers at Carrawarra Rehabilitation Facility and hospital staff alike, I slowly improved and life became a little easier.

This support was a catalyst to my survival and recovery. It's when you are in hospital and you have had a situation like this happen to you, you begin to take stock of what your life was and now is and how you could have done things a lot better. In truth, it makes you re-evaluate your life. You begin to organise and prioritise the important things.

Being given a second chance is compelling in itself , this becomes a vital motivational tool as you begin to contemplate on the many changes that become necessary to sustain you.

I was finally pronounced ready to go back to Sydney. A day I actually held with a mixture of emotions, fear and anxiety the most prominent. I was scared to resume where I had left off. What would people think or me, how would I be treated? Would I be accepted with my new disability or would I be shunned?

All my fears were allayed - I was given a hearty welcome back and the return to work was challenging but rewarding. The Department was extremely good to me and provided me with the return to work care I required. Nurtured old skills and taught me new skills and strategies to assist me in adapting with what I had lost.

This is where my journey into fitness began. I became somewhat rebellious by not taking the medication prescribed to me for depression, which accompanies any sort of brain trauma. Coupled with the cessation of smoking and my lack of physical activity, I began to put on weight rapidly.

My slender form had ballooned from 52kg (at my lowest while I was in hospital) to almost 80kg!!

This became my new terror! I remember trying on my size 10 Levi slim fit jeans in June of that year and only being able to get them up to just above my knees! I burst into tears and thought bitterly to myself how I desperately wanted to be the 'old me' and the desire to lose weight turned into a driving force to get my old figure back.

I cried myself to sleep every night, becoming withdrawn and shunning my friends. I decided to try and fix the problem on my own. I began to walk in the mornings, as I was only able to work 3 days a week with light duties. But walking for me back then was a very slow and sometimes painful process. I still did not give in and knew I had to persevere if I wanted to get any results at all, no matter how bad it seemed.

I cried when I saw my reflection in the mirror too and that was then I finally decided to get professional help. I started out a gym nearby, but didn’t really like going there because all my confidence had totally vanished from me since the stroke. I found that I became intimidated very easily. I didn’t go back there.

One day I thought of looking on the Internet for help, to see what I could find out. I looked up personal trainers. I met with and hired a personal trainer to help me rehabilitate, lose weight and in general take control of my life.


The cause of my stroke finally uncovered, I could now move on. Driven by a burning passion, fueled not only by my mother's death but my own near fatal scare, I made my resolution to become a personal trainer in order to raise awareness of these deadly disorders and in doing so help get the quality of the lives of others back, just as I did with mine.

7 years later, I am a completely different person. I believe I have come a long way since those early days. I lead a healthy life, have reached a goal weight below my set-point, follow a sound nutritional plan 98% of the time and make regular daily physical activity my secrets to success - my keys to longevity.

I am a fully certified, registered and insured personal trainer and have built up my own successful business through Inspired Fitness NSW. I regard myself as a Warrior Against SEDs (Sedentary Disease Syndrome) and dedicate my energy in motivating and inspiring others to follow in my footsteps.

As a final method of gaining back the self-confidence I lost all those years ago, I have now turned to the ultimate in fitness. Embarking on a new path of determination, will power and sheer hard work, I am taking my own training and nutrition to the highest level I can, I am preparing to reach my dream of competing in future female physique competitions. A task that I know will not be an easy one and one in which will probably be one of the hardest things I am likely to do in my life-time, but I know I have to practice doing what I know I have the inner strength to achieve.

I live to inspire.