Monthly Archives: September 2019

No Pain No Brain

After waiting two and a half months post-stroke to see a neurologist, I finally had my appointment today. The neurologist is very experienced. He was a fellow (can’t remember the university) and also a professor at Oregon Health and Sciences University. I felt at ease with him and trusted his expertise.

At the time of my stroke, it was noted that it was likely from Reversible cerebral vasoconstriction syndrome (RCVS). The Cleveland Clinic describes it, “a rare condition that occurs as the result of a sudden constriction (tightening) of the vessels that supply blood to the brain. The main symptom of RCVS is sudden, severe, and disabling headaches that are sometimes called “thunderclap” headaches.” This is what I had and what sent me to the ER in an ambulance. Unrelenting, sudden intense pain in my head. Since I continue to get headaches and some of them are far more intense such as the one on Saturday, he is having me repeat an MRI (with specific neurological sequences) and CT scan. He’s looking for anything that could have been missed, such as an aneurysm (lab work can come back fine even if there was one), evidence of RCVS, and anything else that could explain why it occurred in the first place.

I have a history of migraines, but they’ve increased frequency and intensity only within the last 6 or 7 years. My previous MRI done in 2016 when I had several showed some little irregularities (for lack of a better term), but nothing alarming. He explained that it could be evidence of my migraines or it could be TIA’s (mini-strokes).  

Sometimes as the blood is reabsorbed back into the brain, remnants can be left behind on the brain. They don’t yet know what the impacts on the brain are. He referred to superficial siderosis. You can read about it here but it’s described as, “Superficial siderosis is a potentially devastating syndrome usually caused by recurrent subarachnoid hemorrhage with an accumulation of hemosiderin and other iron-containing pigments in the leptomeninges, brain surface, brainstem, cerebellum, cranial nerves, and spinal cord. Superficial siderosis can mimic many other central nervous system degenerative or multifocal disorders, including amyotrophic lateral sclerosis and multiple sclerosis.”

He repeated the neurological tests I had daily in the hospital. My left side is still weaker and focusing is a struggle. I’ll have my peripheral vision checked, scans done of my retinas and a hearing exam as well because all of this was affected by my stroke.

As far as timing goes with regard to my fatigue, brain fog, memory loss, etc.- it’s just going to take time. I’m still only 2.5 months out from the event so it’s early. I’ll begin physical therapy on Tuesday, and they will evaluate what else it is that I need. I’ll see him in a month when he has all of my labs, scan / MRI results, and previous scans of my brain from when I was admitted. He wants the whole picture and to be very thorough given my age. So, for now, I continue doing what I’m doing; staying busy but resting and listening to my body. Should everything come back normal, I will be at no more of a risk for a stroke than anyone else. They may not get any definitive answer as to why I had one but I’m relieved he’s having me do all this for peace of mind. It’s scary knowing this happened and but not why. At least ruling everything else out gives me some relief. Stay tuned.

So I survived a stroke…

Boom!!!! It was as though someone had slammed my head to the ground as hard as they could. I had been up all night vomiting and nauseous, unable to sleep let alone get into a comfortable position. Then it happened. The mother of all headaches (if that’s what you want to call it). I didn’t know what was happening but I knew something was very wrong. I told my husband I needed to go to the hospital. He asked if someone should drive me or..? I said call 911. This isn’t right and it was getting worse by the minute.

The stairs in my brothers home were too steep to get a gurney up and down so I had to walk, or rather scoot down since opening my eyes to any light felt like hammers to my head and I felt as though I could pass out at any time. Once on the gurney and in the ambulance, it’s a blur. Between the pain and sheer exhaustion from being in pain, I had no concept of time. What I do remember vividly is a nure coming in the room quickly and putting a hospital gown on me. The ER physician looked at me and said, ‘Well your scan shows you have a brain bleed possibly two.” I was in shock as was my husband who exchanged surprising, speechless glance with me.

The next week in the step-down ICU was a long week. Multiple neurological checks during the day and night. A rapid response was called the next day because I developed vasospams. I had a subarachnoid hemorrhage and these spasms are not uncommon with that kind of stroke. My brain was still bleeding. I developed facial droop and other symptoms that determined I was not yet out of the wood. Because I allergic to several meds it was a guessing game to figure out what would stop it, which it eventually did.

Going home felt strange. It would be nearly three months later that I’d have my first neurology appointment on the 17th of September. OHSU was booked out even further. To be out in the wild knowing I am at further risk for another stroke, with so many questions and nowhere to direct them feels like an episode of Naked and Afraid. I am exposed and vulnerable without a life jacket.

While the facial droop is all but gone, I walk with a cane to help with the random dizziness I get. I have light and sound sensitivity and it hurts to focus. My memory is not great and I get brain fog often, forgetting things like my phone number or having difficulty recalling word. My school was kind enough to allow me to defer starting the nursing program until next fall. That has been one of – if not – the biggest blow. All my wonderful study group friend are purchasing their books and reviewing for what will be the start of nursing and I’m watching life go by. I’m fatigued beyond measure. This is normal but feels so foreign. The past three days I could not sleep enough and only today feel a bit more energy coming on. I want my normalcy back. My ability to drive and focus. To multitask without feeling overwhelmed. To be starting school and figuring things out. I’ll get there, rest assured, but right now it feels as though my feet are weighed down with sandbags.

There was another aspect to my hospital stay that I need to write about but I’m saving it for the next post. It’s about making certain your voice is heard and not backing down; even if it means pissing off an arrogant neurologist. Or convincing doctors your not drug-seeking after several pain meds do not work to alleviate the pounding pain in my brain from blood reabsorbing, no matter what they give me.

This whole experience has been surreal, and also why I’ve been away from this blog for so long. Even writing this takes a lot of energy a focus and messes with my eyes. But I will stick with it and continue to share about it since the mortality rate of what I survived is so high and some don’t live to tell about it. It certainly gives me pause for patients I’ve cared for that have been through it and suffered far worse consequences than I.

I’m lucky to be alive and grateful my road to recovery will likely be shorter than most. It could have been far worse. As I watch another school year pass by in front of my eyes and as I reapply for my scholarships and work through whatever rehabilitation lies ahead, my humor certainly remains a vital piece to my mental well being.