Turns out I’m a big, fat liar.
Last time out, when I was writing about pitching The Drum, I said something like, “This is the first pitch I’ve sent in years.”
But then I remembered it wasn’t. See, a biggish thing happened to me last year. And I wanted to write about that biggish thing on here.
Thing is, when you’re writing about biggish things it’s easy to become foggy and mawkish. Plus: it’s still a bit raw.
A pitch on the other hand … I have no problem with posting a pitch about biggish things that have happened to me.
So here you go.
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To: Andrew Gregory @TheGuardian; Barbara Speed @The Guardian
From: Pitching the World
Date: Apr 29, 2024
Subject: Post mini-stroke support is lacking – and alarming
Hi Barbara and Andrew,
First, huge apologies for the double-pitch. I didn’t know where this might be best suited – Opinion or Health. (It’s no excuse, really, but I’ve been out of the freelance journalism game for a while.)
Second, I feel like I have a decent feature brewing.
Rageh Omaar had a suspected (by some) mini-stroke at the end of last week while hosting News at Ten and carried on. The week before that, I had a mini-stroke while playing tennis and also carried on. For about five games. Then I had to stop and go to the hospital in an ambulance with blue, flashing lights.
The incident was scary. I couldn’t speak properly. Plus: numb tongue, numb right side of my face, a numb right arm and numb right leg that wouldn’t really function. In hospital they tell you that you’ve had a mini-stroke – that bit is scary, too – and put you through all sorts of machines and do all manner of tests before popping you on statins, BP-lowering medication and anti-platelet medication before sending you home.
But if the mini-stroke is scary, the landscape you face when you come out is scarier. I’m a reasonably fit, reasonably active, reasonably happy and reasonably middle-aged (48) writer. Yet I came out of the hospital worried. Worried that pushing too hard at work caused the stroke and that I might need to work at half the pace or – worse – give up work altogether. Worried that I’d have to move out of my flat. Worried that my life would unravel (again).
Most of all, I was (and am) worried that I might have another stroke. I’ve seen some stats suggesting that almost one in three TIA survivors will go on to have a major stroke within a year. Some studies say that 11% of those who experience a TIA will have a bigger stroke within a week.
The figures are hazy – and change from paper to paper and study to study. Yet the underlying reality is that TIAs are a warning and often signal a bigger stroke is on the way. So why is the after care so poor? Why are you sent from hospital with a follow-up appointment in six weeks’, a bag of drugs, and not much else? Why, with stroke being such a major cause of death and disability in the UK, are we not doing more to support those who have experienced a TIA – particularly in the first week or two?
And it doesn’t have to be massive help. Maybe some information on getting back to work, what you should and shouldn’t be eating, how often to exercise, how to deal with these blobs of depression and suicidal ideation. A number to call. A GP to chat with. That kind of thing.
I’m really blathering, aren’t I? Sorry about that – it’s been a tricky couple of weeks. Anyway, anything in this, do you think?
Thanks for reading, cheerio for now,
Pitching the World
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Updates on what happened with that pitch – and what happened to me after April – when I have the stomach for it.
April, earlier
Pitching the World 