On April 7th this year, I had a pure sensory stroke — something I’d never heard of before and didn’t recognise at the time. I’m 64, in good shape, very active, eat well, don’t smoke, barely drink. So when something felt “off,” stroke wasn’t on my radar at all.
That night, I was aboard my sailing boat and woke up as usual to go to the loo. I noticed my left arm felt cold and numb — I assumed I’d just slept on it. But by morning, the numbness hadn’t gone away. My wife thought it might be a trapped nerve. I felt totally fine otherwise — clear-headed, steady, no weakness — so we carried on and sailed home for three hours, which was pretty physical.
Later that day, I filled in an e-consult to check in with my GP. The next morning, I got a call asking me to come in urgently. After a detailed exam, my GP said it didn’t look like a trapped nerve and sent me to the hospital for scans and tests.
That’s when I heard the words: “You’ve had a minor pure sensory stroke.”
To say I was shocked is an understatement. I was discharged with aspirin, clopidogrel, statins, and lansoprazole, and sent home still feeling mostly okay — just a very numb arm and hand on the left side.
Over the next week, the numbness in my upper arm and neck faded, but then I hit a wall: severe fatigue like I’ve never known. After doing something as simple as walking 3 miles or pottering around the house, I’d need to lie down for 3–4 hours. I’d feel a tight band around my head and pressure behind my eyes — like my brain was saying “Stop now.”
My GP paused the statins for now and I’ll restart them soon. I’m still dealing with post-stroke fatigue, especially if I overdo things mentally or physically — but it’s slowly improving. I’m 10 weeks in now and still have some numbness in my left forearm and lower hand, but it’s manageable.
Our planned sailing trip to France was put on hold, but we’re bimbling along the south coast, which feels like a big win and a sign of progress.
What’s surprised me is how rare this type of stroke is — and how little support seems to exist for it. When I was feeling a bit low, a lovely woman from the Stroke Association reassured me that the intense fatigue was completely normal for my stage of recovery. That one conversation made a big difference.
If you’ve had a similar experience — or just need to talk — please drop me a line. Sharing our stories helps, especially when recovery can feel lonely and invisible.
Thanks for reading.