In spite of that, Guillaume served as a presenter at the Emmys last month, drawing a standing ovation when he walked onstage with his cane. He also returned to work on Sports Night, which—at the suggestion of his wife, TV producer Donna Brown Guillaume, 47—incorporated his stroke into the show. "I knew if Robert believed he was going back to work, that would motivate him—he doesn't have a lot of hobbies," jokes Brown Guillaume, who lives with the actor and their 10-year-old daughter Rachel, in Encino, Calif. (Guillaume also has three older children.) Sitting in his new dressing room, Guillaume recently spoke with correspondent Kelly Carter about his ordeal.
That morning I drove Rachel to school and then went to hang out with some cronies—my usual routine. When I got ready to leave, though, my feet wouldn't act right. I almost fell, so my friends helped me out to my car. They didn't want to let me drive, but I wasn't feeling any pain or fear, so I insisted I was okay.
I drove to the set of Sports Night and went into my dressing room. When I started putting on my wardrobe, I got a little nauseous and sort of fell off the couch. I couldn't get my left side to do anything. The stage manager finally came in looking for me and helped me up, and I was taken to St. Joseph's Medical Center nearby. One year earlier, I had suffered a transient ischemic attack, which results in a brief slurring of words and a little drooping of skin, then goes away. I later found out that if you have a TIA, you are likely to have a stroke. But at the time my doctors didn't seem alarmed, and I didn't think it was significant. I also thought this latest episode might have been another TIA, so when the doctor told me I was having a stroke, I said, "Are you crazy?" But the next morning, the doctor asked me to squeeze his hand, and I couldn't.
I spent two days in the hospital, then went to a neurological recovery unit for occupational, speech and physical therapy at UCLA. That was the darkest period because I thought my life was over. I began to think, "How badly is my speech affected? Who is going to hire me after this?" Soon, however, I started to realize how lucky I was. My face sagged a little, but it could have been worse. I was having trouble speaking, but I wouldn't need a tremendous effort to get it back to normal. I was never dizzy or anything like that. I was just weak on my left side.
I figured that since I hadn't died, the only way for me to go was in the opposite direction. Somewhere along the way, the desire to get your life back takes over. Still, some days are better than others. Just picking up my legs and moving across the room requires a tremendous amount of forethought and planning, because you don't want to go to the bathroom and forget something, then have to walk all the way back. Before, I never had to worry about what my knee or my ankle was going to do. Now I have to make certain I'm standing the right way in order to push off. Thank God that's the worst of it, but it's still a drag.
My arm is slower and stiffer than it was before, and it may or may not get better. I walk with a cane, but I can sometimes do without it. I've spent a lot of time working on the aesthetics of my walk so I don't look crippled. One day I went to Rachel's school, and, knowing how kids get embarrassed, I didn't go in to see her. I told her why, and, without missing a beat, she said, "Daddy, how can you ever embarrass me?"
A stroke impacts an entire family, and mine has been extremely helpful. Rachel has just been so loving; she'll ask me how I'm feeling and if I want to go for a walk. My wife does practical things for me, like picking out my clothes so I don't have to bop around the closet. She's also been great about pushing me to exercise. I kid her sometimes and say, "You won't be satisfied until I'm running alongside a car with a wheelbarrow full of bricks."
Right now, I walk on a treadmill for about 10 minutes, then do the upper body ergometer, which is like a bicycle for the arms, for another 10. I also do some weights, pull-ups and push-ups. I used to play tennis, and I really miss that, even though I was a duffer. I also lost the ability to sing, and I miss that too. Luckily, my voice isn't too bad. I've finished with speech therapy, but I still practice Shakespearean scenes to keep my diction sharp.
Actually, I'm doing more things now than I was before my stroke, simply in an attempt to combat the tendency to get fatigued. With a stroke, you go from seat to seat. You walk into a place and you say, "Where's the nearest seat?" My wife puts together dinner parties and other functions for us to go to, and that helps keep me active.
I'm also back at work on Sports Night, and the response from the cast, crew and fans has been incredibly uplifting. I'm sure that most of what I do on the show will be behind a desk, bur I hope that people who have had strokes will see me and take a positive approach toward their own recoveries. That was the reason I decided to do the Emmys. I welcomed the chance to let people know that your life isn't over. I was especially anxious to reach black Americans, since strokes, heart attacks and diabetes are real health problems for black people.
I've tried to be positive and not get in a funk about things. I see the stroke as something that God laid on me as a way of saying, "This guy has been thinking he's in charge a little too much." To me, my whole life has been spent trying to overcome limitations, to take what I have and make it better. This stroke has given me the same kind of chance to improve. I get a lot of satisfaction out of getting a little better each day.
Saved by the Bell Reunion
The hookups, the meltdowns, the memoires
The case reveals what was really going on what they think of each other now!
