The Thing About Postcodes…

I had my stroke in the centre of Tokyo and was taken to the right hospital where a team of neurosurgeons could be assembled to successfully perform the 11th surgery of its kind in Japan.

Following that surgery, I had a sliding doors moment.

I could either choose between the cookie cutter approach that all survivors were served with in Japan, or I could blaze my own path. I chose the latter, often alienating myself from the whitecoats.

I was stuck in a country so foreign – the language, the customs, the profound absence of my family and support network, combined with the lack of expectations and aspirations for its survivors, were like cards, all stacked against me.

The thing is, you can have someone in the right postcode who does nothing to aid their recovery. Conversely, you can have someone in the wrong postcode who is socially and mentally thriving. The difference lies in their support and personal determination.

Instead of a sliding door, how do we create just a door—a straightforward path to ensure that stroke survivors receive the holistic support they need?

My challenge for you is to consider this: if your loved one – your partner, your parent, your child – is fortunate enough to receive the right medical care, and that care saves their life—what will you do with that luck? Because this is just the beginning of your journey.

There are facets of our postcodes that have nothing to do with medicine.

Think about your social postcode — the people you surround yourself with. This plays a pivotal role in guiding you along your path and fostering your well-being.

In my case, my doctors told my husband that I would never read or write again due to my severe aphasia.

Imagine how daunting it was for Johan and how brave he was to keep it from me. Despite the immense pressure and uncertainty, he made a conscious decision to shield me from the doctors' prognosis, offering me a gift of hope.

Given the over 12 million new strokes each year, prioritising person-centred care is essential to empower survivors. If we think of ourselves as part of a team, our collaborative energy drives better outcomes.

Person-centred care from your entire network — from doctors to therapists to your entire circle of friends and family — is arguably just as important as geography.

Moreover, as survival rates are increasing and 22% of those living with stroke are under 49 years old, the need for a goal focused mindset is crucial.

We HAVE to consider the mental postcode of survivors.

Survivors face a daunting mental health battle that often goes unaddressed. The psychological impact of stroke can be just as debilitating as the physical effects.

In my experience, it took a clear vision, unwavering determination, and – despite not being able to speak, read or write – a relentless pursuit of my passion for writing.

Only after I sent my first book off to my editor, my husband told me about the initial prognosis.

That still blows my mind… both the gift he gave me by keeping it to himself and the fact that…can you imagine if he had told me 5 years ago that I would never be able to read or write? Where would that have left me? Without hope.


I picture a world, where doctors champion us like Michelle Pfeiffer in the movie Dangerous Minds, by embracing our unique paths.

Where we take inspiration from Michael Jordan - who became the greatest basketball player of all time through pure grit and resilience, despite being cut from his highschool basketball team.

And we pay attention to what’s happening after a life is saved as a part of our ultimate goal of equitable access to stroke care.

I’ll leave you with this question: how can we learn from communities that have achieved positive outcomes, regardless of access to medicine and across various factors such as mental fortitude, social support and the aspirations and expectations paradigm

And how can we effectively transfer that knowledge?

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