Dawn Wilkinson was just 20 when she suffered a massive stroke. Five years on, she talks to Women's Editor Christen Pears about rebuilding her life.

LIKE most women her age, Dawn Wilkinson loves shoes, but the sight of her friends wearing strappy sandals and high heels breaks her heart. Since she had a stroke, five years ago, she has been able to wear nothing but trainers - the only shoes that will fit over the ugly, black brace that encases her ankle and shin.

"Shoes," she says, smiling sadly and shaking her head. "So frustrating."

Dawn was just 20 when she suffered a massive stroke and, five years on, she's still living with the effects. She talks in broken sentences, sometimes just odd words. "In my mind," she says, tapping her forehead, "but can't say." Sometimes she simply can't find the words she wants and she tails off, her sentence hanging unfinished in the air.

Her right arm lies uselessly on her lap, the fingers curled in on each other and when she walks, she drags her right leg. Doctors say her arm and leg are unlikely to improve. "Ankle, toes, not working. Physio says sorry. I say, 'Work, work,' but nothing. Oh well."

Five years ago, Dawn was a fit and healthy young woman. She enjoyed running and aerobics and held down two jobs as a carer and as a barmaid at Crocodillos nightclub in Chester-le-Street. The stroke happened without any warning.

Dawn had been on a night out with friends, something she had been looking forward to for weeks. She had even bought a new outfit and had low lights put in her hair. But walking back the short distance from her friend's house to hers, she began to feel dizzy and staggered down the road. She reached her own front door but collapsed, keys in hand.

Fortunately, she was seen by a passer-by, who alerted her then boyfriend, David. He was so alarmed by her condition that he called her parents, Elaine and Rob, who lived nearby. At first, they thought she had just drunk too much but they began to worry when they realised she couldn't speak and took her to Dryburn Hospital in Durham. By the time she arrived, she was thrashing around and vomiting and her mouth was turned down at one side. The word stroke flashed through Elaine's mind but she dismissed it. Doctors observed her for a couple of hours but sent her home at 4am.

'We thought she was drunk and would sleep it off. We joked about her waking up with an awful hangover," recalls Elaine.

But her condition didn't improve. By mid-morning, Dawn still couldn't speak and was drifting in and out of consciousness and Elaine, who is also a carer, knew she had to get her back to hospital.

"It was so unreal we couldn't believe it was happening to us. A male nurse called us to the relatives' room and broke the news that Dawn was seriously ill and that she was being taken to Newcastle General, which specialises in neurological problems. They said she might not make it."

Within minutes of arriving at the General, she was diagnosed as having suffered a very serious stroke. At first, she couldn't speak at all, the right side of her face was paralysed and she couldn't sit up in bed. She remembers very little of those first few days in hospital.

"Shock, and then coping. Very hard," she recalls.

Once her condition had stabilised, she was transferred to the Hunter's Moor Rehabilition Centre in Newcastle. She began intensive speech and physio therapy but progress was painfully slow. She had to point to pictures to show what she wanted. If she wanted to watch something on TV, she would sing the theme tune because she found that easier than talking.

"They were brilliant with her. She's determined and well-motivated but on the days her motivation was slipping, they pushed her and I always said to her there's no such word as can't," says Elaine.

After three months, Dawn was ready to come home and moved back in with David. Family and friends provided strong support but it was difficult to adjust to her new life. Simple tasks such as fastening her bra and washing her hair were all huge challenges and she struggled to tell the time, read and deal with money. She still does.

Before her stroke, Dawn loved both her jobs, particularly working with people. She went back to work as a carer on a voluntary basis but found it frustrating because she was restricted to domestic tasks. She also helped out at the local playgroup but had to give that up after a fall.

She says she's bored now and uncertain what to do next. One possibility is becoming a counsellor, helping people who have had strokes, but that would be far into the future and would involve a lot of intensive speech therapy.

For now, she's concentrating on herself and rebuilding her life. She and David split up last year and she now lives on her own, just round the corner from her parents' house. It's a struggle but she does her own housework and she has two cats to look after. She has her own specially-adapted car and has just got back from a holiday with a friend and is looking tanned and relaxed.

She's determined to lead as normal a life as possible and 'independence' is a word she uses a lot. "Determination," she says and shakes her fist.

But there are setbacks. She longs to wear skirts instead of the trousers she needs to cover the brace. She had a silicone brace made that matched her skin colour but it wasn't strong enough to support her.

She admits she has bad days. "Alright and then down. Feel angry and why me? It depends."

It makes it even more difficult for Elaine to step back and let her get on with things. When they're together, she talks incessantly on Dawn's behalf. "It could have been fatal. The good thing that came out of this is that we still have Dawn and she's improving all the time but we've had to fight for everything for her, everything from getting her into Hunter's Moor to getting benefits for her. I used to be so laid back but it's made me hyper. It's hard not to wrap her in cotton wool."

"Don't," pleads Dawn.

Stroke is perceived as an affliction of old age but it can affect anyone, of any age and it is estimated that 250 children in the UK suffer a stroke. Doctors still have no idea what caused Dawn's stroke and she knows there is nothing she could have done to prevent it.

But instead of being bitter, she is incredibly philosophical.

"Old, young, babies, any age. It happens. I cope."

* The Stroke Association can be contacted on 0845 3033100 or visit the website at www.stroke.org.uk