Finding His Voice: Stroke Survivor’s Relentless Quest To Speak Again

By Rona Gindin, Editorial Contributor

Michael “Rory” Proctor was an eloquent, persuasive defense lawyer in Georgia, helping clients avoid prison. Then he had a stroke and suddenly couldn’t talk, read or write -- struggling to utter a simple word like “house.” Proctor’s old life was gone, but he was determined to relearn how to communicate.

Doctor next to older man

A Career Built on Words

A native of Loup City, Nebraska, Proctor had built himself an interesting path over 68 years. As a young man he traveled the world as a Navy seaman aboard a nuclear-powered aircraft carrier, taking college classes while onboard. He later finished his bachelor’s degree, worked in construction then restoration, and put himself through law school while parenting preteens.

By the time the stroke hit, Proctor had long run his own law firm while at times serving on a parole board and teaching a class to drug-addicted prisoners. He’d even had a jaunt in American Samoa as a government representative.

Life turned from interesting to unbearable in 2023. First, the 1905 farmhouse Proctor had lovingly renovated and moved into burned down. Four months later, while renting out a friend’s basement apartment, Proctor learned his only son had died unexpectedly.

Despite these setbacks, Proctor kept on working day by day, reading for pleasure after dark. But when his sister, Betty Lineberry, and a mutual friend couldn’t reach him by phone, they knew something was wrong. They drove to his humble home and found him in bad shape.

Older couple looking at camera

A blood clot had traveled through his heart to his brain, causing the stroke that led to his inability to communicate, a condition called expressive aphasia. Even if he knew the name for something, he couldn’t get his mouth to say it; instead, garbled sounds emerged. “Taxi,” for example, came out “capsi.”

The Science of Rebuilding Speech

Lineberry, his widowed sister, stepped in as caretaker. After Proctor spent nearly five weeks in the hospital and then rehab, Lineberry brought the youngest of her three brothers to her home in Cocoa, Florida. Through the VA, he found himself in the care of Michael Gaughran, a speech pathologist at Orlando Health Sebastian River Hospital.

“When we met, Rory was completely aphasic, meaning he could only communicate with one-word responses or just gesturing,” Gaughran recalls. This was two months after the stroke. “He was hoping to go back to work but didn’t have any of the communication skills he needed to be a lawyer.”

When we met, Rory was completely aphasic, meaning he could only communicate with one-word responses or just gesturing. – Speech pathologist Michael Gaughran

With many years of experience, Gaughran assessed the situation and began speech therapy. That started with focusing on basic words and naming tasks. Together, he and Proctor would repeat simple word pairs, like up and down, left and right, north and south. “Rory had had such a command of his language, so he was very frustrated,” Gaughran says. Essentially, Proctor needed to retrain his brain, lips, tongue and teeth.

Over time, Proctor achieved more and more. Gaughran adapted when needed, swapping one exercise for another any time his client seemed overwhelmed.

“We use a lot of strategies to help, whether it’s a verbal cue, a visual cue or me initiating a word by saying the beginning sound,” Gaughran says.  “When I noticed comprehension issues, some known as cluttering issues, I’d know Rory was overstimulated and I’d switch to a nonverbal activity.”

Determination, Data and Family Support

Gaughran was joined in his hard-work ethic by not only Proctor, but also Lineberry. She sat through each session taking copious notes so she could help her brother practice at home. Now, two years later, Proctor has regained 70 percent of his speech.

Older man posing outside

“The main driver is Rory’s determination and Betty’s ability to help and support him,” Gaughran says. “They motivate each other.”

Meanwhile, Proctor hands the credit back to Gaughran. “He is just so enthusiastic,” Proctor says, taking turns talking with his sister during an interview. “When he gets excited, he pumps his fist and goes, ‘YES!’ ”

The siblings ignored the warning that most patients make all their progress in the first six to 12 months, then plateau. “Rory says he is not giving up,” Lineberry says, two years after speech therapy started. “Words just pop into his conversation without him even realizing, so I know his brain is healing.”

Proctor has been able to walk since his third week post-stroke. He rides a bicycle and mows the lawn, too. At 70 today, he’s trying to complete his recovery, although he did have to close his law practice.

“Word by word, task by task, with cues when he struggles, the building blocks of communication were stabilized,” Gaughran says. “Rory can communicate about his wants and needs.”

That’s what incessant trying gets you. “You’ve got to work every day until you’re tired. Then take a break, come back and do something else,” Lineberry says, expressing her brother’s sentiments. “He also said, ‘I’m not giving up.’ We are determined to get over this.”

“I couldn’t talk at all,” Proctor concludes. “Now things are much better.”