One Step in Front of the Other

A few weeks ago, I talked to a delightful young woman who lives in North Dakota. She is a mother, a writer, and a long-distance runner. Like so many of us, she is also a brain aneurysm survivor. 

Her name is Kathleen Wriggley and she is running the Fargo Marathon tomorrow. Bless her heart. Like me, she is also blogging about her journey which you can follow here. 

When Kathleen found out in early summer that she would need a couple aneurysms clipped, she says her life took a screeching U- turn. She needed to prepare her two school aged children for her upcoming surgery and make sure her preschooler would be okay. She had to get her work organized and ready for her absence. “I cried every day that summer,” she said. “I could have had the surgery then, but I wanted my children to be in school so they would still have a routine. I thought it would be better for them.”

Her husband was consumed with worry and was in a turmoil of his own. Would Kathleen be okay? Or would she come out of surgery different?

Last September, when her kids were back in school, she and her husband traveled to downtown St. Paul where the great doctors at the National Brain Aneurysm Center did their surgery. She, like me, is grateful for Drs. Madison and Nussbaum, as well as every single nurse and technician who cared for her.

She is so grateful, in fact, that she is using each step of the Fargo Marathon to raise awareness and funds for the National Brain Aneurysm Center. Why? “Running this marathon is symbolic for me,” she says. “It tells me–and everyone else–that my life is back and I’m okay.”

I could not run a marathon, even if I was younger and perfectly healthy. My admiration for Kathleen is enormous. In fact, I’m in awe. I am praying for her and willing her strength and success each and every step of her journey. She is truly amazing.

More my ability is the Stroke Walk in Plymouth. May is Stroke Awareness Month and a bunch of us will be strolling through French Park enjoying ourselves, our friends, our families and, of course, our renewed lives. The Minnesota Stroke Association is sponsoring that event. Those of us who suffered vasospasm strokes when our brain aneurysms ruptured may have a slightly different twist on strokes. But a stroke is still a stroke and recovery is not easy.  I’m sure it will be fun to stroll through a beautiful park on a beautiful day and enjoy the new adventures that each day brings.

Whether it’s a marathon or a walk in the park, we all must put one step in front of the other. Only then will our journey be satisfying.

The slightest change in pressure

The merry month of March has come in like a lamb here in Minnesota. Winter has been long and snow-filled. Longer, warmer days are a welcome change. But I know that the lamb will leave and the lion will roar. I also know that those of us with brain aneurysms will feel that feline’s bite.

The fact is, changes in weather can hurt. My aneurysms have been surgically fixed, but barometric pressure fluctuations seem to change the intracranial pressure in my brain.

Have you seen those fluid-filled, decorative barometers? As the outside air pressure changes, the fluid in the tube rises or falls. I figure that’s what happens inside our heads, too.

A couple months ago, as I was reading the St. Paul Pioneer Press, I noticed a Q & A medical column.  The reader’s question: “A cold front came in and I had head/face pressure. What is that all about?”

The doctor’s answer was that weather changes can trigger migraine headaches as well as pain in arthritic joints. He speculated that a difference in the body’s internal pressure and the outside barometric pressure was the reason.

So I asked members of my support group at the National Brain Aneurysm Center whether they noticed weather-related problems. EVERYONE did. Responses ranged from “feeling fuzzy” to feeling tired and fatigued. Those of us who had undergone open craniotomies noticed something even more bizarre. As the weather changes, the skull bones that have knit back together after surgery actually dent in or out.

My husband is a prove-it-to-me kind of guy. Whenever I comment that the weather must be changing, he says, “Let’s see your dent.” I brush the hair away from my forehead, he studies a spot just beneath the hairline and affirms my prediction. The fact is, there are days when that spot is completely flat and looks no different than any other place on my forehead. Then there are days when it is so dented it looks like someone shot me with a gun.

Spring is here at last. Some days will be filled with lambs. Others will be tormented by lions.  If you want to know what the day will bring, forget about forecasts from high-priced television meteorologists. Instead, ask a walking, talking barometer. Ask a brain aneurysm survivor.

Maintaining the engine

February is Heart Month and the American Heart Association does a great job getting the word out about heart disease. It’s important information and we are lucky to live in the time and place we do because doctors have gotten really good at fixing hearts.

Most of the time.

Long before my brain blew up, I was diagnosed with heart disease. It was a no brainer for physicians because I have a strong genetic link to heart disease on my dad’s side.  So are aneurysms, but those are harder to diagnose than heart disease.

While in my 20s, I’d have unexplainable bouts of high blood pressure that would go away. In my early 30s, doctors wondered why my heart beat too fast. It, too, would go away, come back, go away. By my late 30s, my diastolic readings were steadily, gradually elevating. In my early 40s and at the doctor’s office for a sinus infection, my doctor took my blood pressure several times, listened to my heart a lot and said, “I’ve had enough of this. It’s time to get you on blood pressure medication.”  

Dutifully, I took blood pressure medication daily. The problem? It didn’t work as well as my doctor hoped.  Basically, the lower reading was a stubborn sucker. With medication, my blood pressure went from 125/105 to 118/95.

Then my brain blew up.

Doctors and nurses at the National Brain Aneurysm Center saved my life. They clipped and coiled, clipped and coiled, clipped and coiled until, eventually, all of the ticking time bombs were gone. In the midst of those surgeries, a magical thing happened: My blood pressure problems disappeared.

Today I can boast readings that make everyone my age envious: 107/65, 110/72, 105/73…

The brain is the engine that drives the body. It tells the lungs to breathe, the eyes to blink and the heart to beat. The lesson: Take care of your heart, but don’t forget about your head. 

When Lightning Strikes, You Have to Act

I had a brain storm during dinner one hot July evening. Lightning cracked inside my head. Hot tingling electricity sparked and thrummed throughout my brain. My 17-year old son put down his fork and asked if I was okay.

I remember saying, “No. I don’t think so.” Read the rest of this entry »