Life. Support. Music.

At last month’s brain aneurysm support group, we watched a documentary about a musician from New York City who, against all odds, survived a ruptured AVM. Through the amazing support group around him including family and friends, he was able to not only recover, but prove most of the doctors wrong with their devastating diagnosis’.  Watch a brief follow-up online about the documentary with Jason and his sister HERE.

Tonight, we were able to meet Jason Crigler in person, hear his story first hand, and ask him questions. There truly aren’t enough descriptive adjectives to convey what one feels after hearing and seeing Jason’s story.

In 2005, soon after he returned home from a year-long stay in the hospital, Jason's family (his daughter, wife and father) take him for a walk in the woods.

He is a soft-spoken, warm, and funny man. If you didn’t know his story, one would never know the extent of the struggles he and his young family have had to endure.

Jason’s story was documented by a friend who video taped much of his early recovery and made it into a critically-acclaimed documentary called LIFE. SUPPORT. MUSIC. It’s painful to watch, especially as a survivor of a brain injury myself. He could be me…I could be him. The uphill battles are all very similar, but Jason was very motivate to recover with a new-born baby girl, a budding music career in New York City and a family that sacrificed their own lives and comfort to care for him on an hourly basis.

Tonight was very special and it’s a damn shame more people (even from our own groups) could not attend this widely publicized event. The old adage, you can lead a horse to water but you can’t make him drink, held true tonight I guess. You get what you give…and some people give more than they have to give, but receive very little in return. It’s a damn shame.

Jason’s story is a story that needs to be heard and obsorbed. I only wish I could speak as eloquently and effectively as Jason does, or I’d take my little stent, coil & clip show on the road too. But who the hell would show up to listen to me? Probably only just a few. I know my story isn’t nearly as compelling. We can’t even get an article written about our group.

There was one article written a couple of years ago. About a woman who only came to our meetings maybe two times. She was certainly very attractive & photogenic and lived in an influential area, so that right there was two up on me. Even the one small TV spot we DID have ended up being shared by a completely un-related disease, so we couldn’t even get a full 2-minute spot for ourselves. Really? What DO we have to do????

But…even if we did…would it make any difference? We met a few new people tonight and we welcomed them with open arms as we always do. I hope we see them again and that they spread the word about our group and our efforts to raise brain aneurysm awareness in the state. Exposure could save lives….WE could save lives.

I think you’d be hard pressed to find a group like ours (or at least that one special person) that gives such personal attention to those who have reached out to us. I don’t think the president of many organizations would send personalized emails complete with moving letters and related photos to someone who writes and donates and expressed great regret they’ll be unable to attend this year’s event after having attended all of the other previous ones. I think it’s the personal touch that sets us apart from other groups. The behind-the-scenes workings are amazing and the hard work that goes into every event, every email, every newsletter, and meeting follow up, is more than most are doing. Does it matter?

People need to DO more. They are not and it could mean lives of people are being lost as a result. Picking up food for an event will feed the volunteers and participants. For one day out of YOUR life, you could help an event run smoothly and make it a success, meaning those who attended and those who heard about it and read our materials will remember what the event was about and LEARN….and potentially save a life of the next person who has the “worst headache of my life”.

(stepping down off my soap-box now)……back to Jason Crigler.

Jason’s positive & simple attitude about his AVM and recovery is truly inspirational. Many things he spoke about tonight touched me deeply and certainly would have touched a lot more people if they had taken the long hour and a half out of their busy lives.

One thing he said was that there is “strength & power in thought”. We can choose to think we’re failing or think we’re succeeding and it can truly effect the rest of your body. He admits to bad days and depression and despair just like the rest of us, but it’s reminding yourself of the struggles you HAVE overcome and how far you have come that one needs to be reminded of. We all have struggles on a day-to-day basis, but it’s how you deal with, and think about them, that can lead you to a path of strength and power.

I needed to hear those words tonight. My 10-year Annie-versary of my ruptured brain aneurysm is coming up on Oct. 4th. I’m lucky to be here. I know that. I also know others haven’t been so lucky and if sharing my story can save one life, I’m going to do it. If complaining about a lack of support can garner a little bit more, then I’m going to do it.

My sister died from a ruptured brain aneurysm. I had to see her lying in a hospital bed completely unresponsive on a ventilator, with her head shaved, with wires in her open skull and a drain relieving blood from her brain. She was basically gone at that point but we held out hope for a miracle. It never came. I may have failed saving my own sister in educating her enough on the signs and symptoms, but I MAY be able to save one other person. I MAY be able to help one person recognize the symptoms and get them to a hospital in time.

I have to hold on to that…otherwise, why was I saved and Dori wasn’t and why was I saved and Dave’s beautiful 32-year old niece Kim wasn’t? Two beautiful, sweet, funny souls who did nothing but good for others. I’m not nearly as beautiful or sweet, so I have funny going for me…and a chance to DO something in this world and get the word out and share my story.

I may not have friends who care enough about me to film a  documentary, come to our events and support me, tour the country and make money from it, but I DO know I am blessed to be here still.

THANK YOU Jason, for sharing your story, answering our questions, and driving all the way up to Portland to meet with us. And thank you for making people aware of the struggles people with brain injuries can endure…and more importantly, can overcome. You’re a true inspiration!

 

Racing Against Brain Aneurysms

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The title says it all: the sooner we get the best, up-to-date accurate facts out to people, the more lives we can save!

Such is the message behind the hood and rear, deck lid sponsorship on the #52 Chevy Camaro for this weekends NASCAR Xfinity race at New Hampshire Motor Speedway.

The Lisa Colagrossi Foundation, a worldwide leader in raising awareness for brain aneurysms, sponsored the car driven by Iowa native, Joey Gase. The foundation asked for people effected by brain aneurysms to donate money to have either their name or photo of a loved one on the car during the race. The amount of exposure Joey and the car got on this national event was priceless.

Dave and I were asked as special guests to attend the race. And we cannot say enough about Joey and his father Bob. They were extremely generous with their time and hospitality. We certainly never demanded or asked of anything, but they offered so much from golf cart transport to ear plugs and water. Respect breeds respect.

The car was beautiful (if you can say that about a stock car) and seeing it in person was emotional. Watching Dori and Kim’s photo leave the garage area was almost like setting them free to go fly on the track. 32 individuals effected by brain aneurysms were on the car including notable figures such as Albert Haynesworth (NFL), Maryam Dabo (James Bond girl), Andre Jones (TJ Jones/NFL, Detroit Lions father), and Ashley Harris (wife of Tommie Harris/NFL, Chicago Bears) and a few not-so-notable figures such as myself, my sister Dori and Dave’s niece Kim.

Bob Gase and Todd Crawford were wonderful hosts and showed us around the track. We also had an opportunity to spend time with Joey in his hauler to cool off and get out of the sound and noise. He’s a wonderful young man and shouldn’t have had to lose his mother at such a young age. I had fun talking racing with him – he may not say the same. 🙂 Dave and I are big NASCAR fans and we have been following him in the Xfinity series and the few cup starts he has had.

This summer weekend race at New Hampshire is always a busy one in the garage area because they have three different series racing on Saturday and the Sprint Cup teams also had several practices, so there were opportunities to see a lot of on-track action. We enjoyed some of the Whelen Modified race and got to see the end of one of the cup practices. With the pit access we had, we were able to get close to some of the cars and drivers on pit road. Dave snapped a photo of Jack Rousch and saw Richard Childress walking by. We’ve been to three races at NHMS before, but this was a different experience for sure.

The pit and garage areas are regular hives of activities throughout the day and one needs to be aware of your surroundings. Many carts, cars, gas cans, and groups of media moving back and forth between the garages and trackside. I was run into on pit road during the modified race because I had ear plugs in and he couldn’t stop the large cart. He hit me gently and did apologize and we had a laugh.

The weekly circus that is NASCAR is amazing. The logistics and organization that goes into each team and just getting the event produced is impressive. And then add to that the wonderful staff at New Hampshire Motor Speedway who could not have been nicer. A stellar group of people and a lot of fun.

We were able to take many photos with Joey at the car before the Xfinity race as well as stand next to the car during opening ceremonies and the singing of the anthem. Something I’ve only seen on TV previously, or in the stands. This perspective was a lot of fun and It was emotional to be standing next to the car and see our loved ones there with us.

Then after the anthem was sung Joey’s dad led us over to the team’s pit area and informed us we’d be sitting on top of the pit box for the race! Now THAT was very, very unexpected. We weren’t really sure where we’d be to watch the race, but I hadn’t even thought about the actual pit box that is wheeled over from the hauler. It was a tight fit, but Todd, Dave and I climbed the narrow ladder to the three chairs for us. What an amazing view for a race! Dave and I geeked out a wee bit I think.

The sounds and smells of the cars racing by and coming in for pit stops is either something you love or hate. I happened to be one of those people that loves it. My sister Dori and I always used to go the demolition derbies at our local fairgrounds every year until I moved to Maine in 2001. She was also a NASCAR fan back in the day and I truly felt her with my on top of that pit box geeking out with Dave and I and enjoying the event immensely.

Joey didn’t qualify for the race very well, but he move up during the race and finished a respectable 25th place out of 30 cars. He is a good driver. He doesn’t ruffle any feathers on the track and hasn’t caused any fights on pit road or in the garage area (that I’m aware of!) and I think he has treated other drivers with respect. Again…respect breeds respect. I think the two media pieces produced by NBC Sports about Joey over the weekend were a reflection of the kind of young man he is and how he has taken something that is very painful and is helping others. It was a pleasure to meet Joey and his dad and we will continue to support him and cheer for him on a weekly basis.

It was a special, special day at the track and it was wonderful to get close to the action. As a double brain aneurysm survivor, I took great pride in having my name on the car and hoping the words “brain aneurysm” have now entered into the vocabulary of the NASCAR community in a bigger fashion. There are a few people who have even effected within the NASCAR family and we know they’re going to be helping TLCF help raise awareness and make the public more aware of the symptoms and their own personal stories.

Thank you to Todd Crawford and The Lisa Colagrossi Foundation for making this day possible. We look forward to future endeavors and helping to save lives.

  • View photos below and visit our Facebook page for more photos at: KAT-Walk & Karo5k

Two-Year Clip-Aversary

Me! Brain Aneurysm Survivor
On the anniversary of my ruptured brain aneurysm in 2006 and subsequent coiling, I call it my “Annie-versary” stealing the phrase from other survivors from the Brain Talk Community online who helped me through my recovery. For some reason I feel I need to give my 2nd brain aneurysm procedure (the clipping) a different annual name. Like I’ll be criticized for calling that an Annie-versary too? LOL I doubt it, but I do.

Saturday is the two-year anniversary of the clipping on my second, unruptured brain aneurysm. It turned out to be a delicate aneurysm and it was a delicate time. I had lost my other sister just a few weeks prior to my scheduled surgery and I was wrestling with whether I should go through with the surgery or not. It wasn’t until my niece and mother (who we lost last year) spoke to me and encouraged me to proceed, that I made the final decision to keep the date and proceed. I truly didn’t want to put them through anymore.

I think some angels were watching over me because it was a good thing I DID get the craniotomy & clipping. It was an ugly, thin-walled brain aneurysm that would have surely caused me issues, if not caused my death, at some point down the road.

For my two-year update I’ll recall an earlier format I used to update my family and a few friends on my blog about my recovery process.

FATIGUE: There are still days I KNOW my brain had too much stimulation. It’s difficult to describe other than my brain is tired. I suppose that is something that will never go away. It does get better, but I’ll be able to realize when I need to rest my brain. Not just sleep, but do nothing…think about nothing…just nothing. I need those days still. I also notice my left eye lid will get a bit droopy when I’m overly tired and haven’t eaten much.

PAIN: 
These days, the only pain I feel that is associated directly to the clipping is on the left side of my skull. I have no idea what triggers the pain and I often have difficulty laying on the left side of my head. It “feels” like my brain shifts to the left against my skull and there is pressure there. It’s not a daily pain, but I certainly notice it when it is bothering me and I have to roll over and lay on the right side. Sneezing doesn’t bother me, but coughing really does. I feel it throughout my head and it makes me tired.

NUMBNESS:
 As many people said, including the Dr., this may or may not go away. The skin on my skull hasn’t completely “reconnected” all of the nerves, so a great chunk of it is still numb. I only notice it when others touch my head now. My hair dresser or Dave. At least it’s not painful….just odd. I certainly could have worse issues, so I consider myself lucky.

STITCHES/INCISION:
 I can feel the incision under my hair line and the hair has all grown back so that part isn’t even visible anymore. As the swelling went down and I lost a little bit of weight (20 lbs at one point), the bone flap area “settled” into the skull quite a bit and a dent has appeared. The pins and small plates that secured the bone flap back onto the skull area are also visible and sticking out under the skin on the skull and I most certainly feel them. I’m not crazy about the dent or the brain “bling”, but it is what it is and I doubt anyone but me would really notice them. Although when I have my hair parted differently and the light hits it just right, Dave will notice and always points it out. I’ve seen much worse dents on other survivors I have met, so in comparison, I’m lucky.

Found this great PDF: https://profiles.utsouthwestern.edu/profile/67812/assets/patient-information.pdf

And this one: http://www.mayfieldclinic.com/PE-Craniotomy.htm

BRAIN FUNCTION:
Well, I have survived two more catalog seasons, so I guess my brain function is doing okay. I certainly feel tired at times, but I’m very, VERY lucky that I can drive, work, read, and function on a daily basis. I’m a little slower and a little more careful when walking and traversing walkways, hills or paths because I have a bit of a fear of slipping or falling and hitting my head.


I do still struggle with some survivor’s guilt. Why, dear Lord, am I so lucky with my multiple brain aneurysms when two (and possibly three) people I loved so much were victims of the same ailment? One can say because God has other plans for me to help others. If that’s the burden I have to carry, then so be it. I can’t say I’m crazy about it though. I’d rather have Kim, Dori, my mom and Rhonda back.

So, I will celebrate my clip-aversary in some fashion I’m sure. I’m glad I’m still here and I hope a few others are as well.

October, Shocktober

October has always been a bitter-sweet month for me and my family.

The Sweet:

  • my nephew Ian was born (he’s now a handsome 19-year old!)
  • my step-nephew Adam was born
  • my sister Dori was born

The Bitter:

  • my Dad was diagnosed with cancer in October (lost him in 1994 – 6-months after diagnosis)
  • my Mom passed away in October last year (2014)
  • my brother-in-law Fred was killed in October
  • I suffered a ruptured brain aneurysm in October in 2006.

And I’m sure I’m leaving something out, but those are the biggies. I think that’s enough, don’t you?

October 25th is a bitter-sweet day for me as well. It was Dori’s birthday, but it was also the day I was released from the hospital after a three week stay nine years ago next week. I remember speaking to Dori on the phone after I got home and she told me my coming home was the best birthday present I could have given her. We were both crying.

How awful that six year’s later, I was crying in a London hotel room after findiing out Dori had suffered a ruptured brain aneurysm too and I never got a chance to say good-bye and let her know how much I loved, and adored her.

Brain aneurysms simply suck. They take the lives of young, old, healthy, joyful people, and devestate the lives of those they love. Granted, they don’t always kill, but they certainly can cause distruption and change the lives of all those around you forever.

October is also a stressful month for me at work. With my rupture happening in the critical last weeks of catalog production, it was left to our small crew and a poor graphic artist brought in to pick up the pieces to finish the book. They did the best they could. Three months later I returned to work part-time to find my office with calendar’s still set on October and reminders on my computer for jobs that needed to be completed…in October. A surreal experience for sure.

I am one of the lucky ones who #1, worked at a great company that allowed me the time to heal and recover and #2, I was physically able to perform my job full time after a 6-month recovery period. Soooo many are not so fortunate and the needs of survivors and their issues after a rupture are so varied, it’s difficult for employers and co-workers to truly understand the depth of recovery needed.

I suppose that’s one of the reasons I speak out about brian aneurysms and try to educate others. Although this blog as been theraputic for me personally, I have received a few comments from other survivors and those who have lost loved ones who tell me it has helped. That means more to me than any amount of money I could raise. Support is what we all need. I have survived a rupture, a coiling, a re-coiling and a stent, then a craniotomy on a 2nd un-ruptured brain aneurysm. And that first large brain aneurysm is STILL giving me issues. Look for updates on more potential “brain bling” in the New Year!

Every October I remember the day of my rupture. Every October I remember my mother’s death now. I remember my father’s diagnosis with cancer and I remember my sister’s birthday on October 25th. I still hate October, but I’m here. For whatever reason, I. AM. HERE.