Yesterday was a sad, horrible anniversary. The day Kim passed from a sudden ruptured brain aneurysm in 2008. It was a horrible, horrible, day just a few days after we had spent Christmas with her. One I’d love to forget and wipe from my memory. Unfortunately, just as thousands of other families deal with, it’s a memory I cannot forget.
The police tape, the medical vehicles, the tragic cries of a mother losing her only child…it’s a day no one should have to live through and one that haunts me on this “anniversary”. Yes, it’s a day I’d love to forget.
From the sadness and horror of that day, Kim’s family and friends have had to deal with the difficult task of moving on without her in their lives, just as thousands of other families do each year. We aren’t special in that respect, but Kim sure was. I prefer to remember her smile, her laugh, and her kindness. Not the horrific scenes of that day four years ago.
I know Kim wouldn’t want us to dwell on that day either and to move forward and create something positive out of a horrible event so that her friends and family can heal and provide the kind of help and kindness to others that Kim was so famous for.
Unfortunately, my family has been touched by brain aneurysms. I have two older first cousins who are survivors. I, myself, have survived a rupture and we’re monitoring another smaller aneurysm and possible issues with the 11 mm aneurysm that originally ruptured. Then, only 7 months ago, I lost my sister Dori to a massive rupture. Yes, they CAN be hereditary, but that isn’t always the case. It’s just horribly ironic that Kim (not a blood relative of mine) was also taken in such a fashion. I’ll never forget getting that news of the cause of death. Survivor’s guilt doesn’t even begin to describe it for me. Again…a day I’d love to forget.
After my ruptured brain aneurysm, no events, or groups to help support me were available in the state of Maine. My only solace and assistance came from online message boards where I have met some amazing people who have survived much worse than me but share many of the same issues I did and still do. I found great comfort in my online community. My friends didn’t rally around me at my bedside or offer to start a walk or group to support others. There was nothing…other than my saint of a husband. Most people don’t realize the burden his shoulders have carried since 2006. I’m a very lucky woman.
It wasn’t until we lost Kim to the same ailment that almost took my life, that a decision was made here in Maine to DO something about making people aware of what a brain aneurysm is, what it can do to you, how it can be treated, and how, as a community, we can help other families in the same kind of need I was in in 2006 and beyond.
Sadly, my sister Dori was very knowledgable about brain aneurysms and she traveled to Maine on several occasions to be with me and Dave during my procedures. How tragic it is then, that we weren’t even able to save her life. BUT, she knew there was a community in Maine that was trying to DO something to help survivors and families deal with such trauma. She dealt with that trauma herself and I KNOW the information and support we provided others was also of comfort to her and my family.
In 2009, Kim’s close friends and family organized the KAT-Walk for brain aneurysm awareness and to honor Kim’s sweet memory. As Kim did, it’s a way to give back and to support those effected by brain aneurysms. She was the first one looking up what a brain aneurysm was on the computer after I had my rupture and she was the first one to meet me in ICU when I arrived by ambulance that morning. I had very few visitors in the hospital or at home after my surgery, but Kim was one of those and she had the opportunity to meet Dori during that time as well.
I think Kim would be proud of the efforts her family and friends have made in the state of Maine to bring awareness and support to brain aneurysms. The number of families we continue to touch, not only in Maine, but throughout New England, is truly amazing and quite sad as well. There are tremendous survivor stories and tragic losses, but each year we’re becoming a loving and supporting community that gains strength from one another and finds a way to comfort those in need. I think that’s what Kim was all about – and God knows I needed the community this past September. I walked alone that day, but knew both Kim and Dori were beside me.
So, remembering the anniversary of Kim’s death isn’t something I enjoy doing. I’d rather forget that day and remember the date of her birth in March instead…because that’s when an angel was sent to touch the lives of all those around her, even if it was just for a short time. And she’s still touching lives in a very positive way.
Christmas Time
Today, I turned another year older. It was a good day. I got some wonderful gifts and enjoyed a lovely dinner out with friends, which I desparately needed. Not the dinner, but the fun with friends.
Since losing Dori at the end of May, I’ve basically been running on fumes. Well, that and food. I’ve gained so much weight. Maybe I thought if I comforted myself with comfort food, it would some how makes things feel better. I think the only void food has filled is my waistline, hips and thighs. It certainly hasn’t had any kind of “healing” per say, but it helped at that moment I guess.
Now that I’m finally getting some time off of work, it’s all hitting me. Everything reminds me of Dori. Just as it was that first Christmas after we lost Kim, there are so many memories and items that trigger those memories…the only difference is that I knew Dori all of my life, where I had only known Kim the last 10 years of her life. Still a long time to miss her horribly, but not nearly the number of memories I have with Dori.
Childhood memories of Christmas’s spend with Dori in our bedroom we shared growing up and of singing carols later in life to shared moments of joy and sadness within our own family over the years. We lost our father in 1994…my brother-in-law was killed two months before Christmas and a month before his daughter was to become a year old. All very bittersweet holidays, but we got through them.
Each Christmas card we receive this year is filled with the usual holiday greetings of peace and good health, then I’m thrown by a mention of Dori. It’s not that I’m trying to forget her, it’s just taking me by surprise in these cards and it brings up the sad reminder that she’s no longer with us and reminds me especially, that it was a damn brain aneurysm that caused it.
I won’t be able to watch A CHRISTMAS STORY this year. Too many memories of watching that and making references to it. Maybe next year. I won’t be watching LOVE ACTUALLY either. Amongst all the funny story lines in the moving, there is also one that is quite sad and I’m not sure I want to deal with it just now. Maybe next year. I’m not even sure about National Lampoon’s CHRISTMAS VACATION. Dori and I saw that in the movie theater when it first came out. We weren’t that old, but found ourselves extremely annoyed by all the rude teenagers in the sold-out theater. LOL
I AM listening to Christmas carols and enjoying that. I know Dori loved carols and it doesn’t make me sad, except to hear THE BELL THAT COULDN’T JINGLE because I know she loved that song and JESU is hard to listen to because she used to play that on the piano.
Dave and I are not going to NY for Christmas this year, like we did last year. The family Christmas I craved last year was wonderful and a memory I’ll always cherise because it was the last time I saw Dori in person. The gifts for family back in NY were packed and sent back home. I usually made all of those arrangements with Dori and we always shared a ton of emails back and forth on what to get everyone and sending lists back and forth. Not much list swapping going on this year and we’re all fine with that. It will be a simple, quiet Christmas this year. It just has to be.
As I was helping Dave find some gift bags, I ran across many of the gift bags we were given last year and saw many bags with Dori’s handwriting on them. Again…another sad, and unexpecteed reminder. I know the day will come when that sort of thing will make me smile rather than feel sad, but for this year, the sadness will prevail. It has to….we’re all still greiving. It’s a part of the damn process. Another loss…another brain aneurysm.
I keep waiting for a sign from Dori to snap out of it, stop eating crap, and take better care of myself, but she and I both know that it’s hard to lose a loved one and it’s harder for those left behind to adjust to life again. Perhaps the new year will yield better results for my health and there will be no more issues with my own brain aneurysms. I still have to live with those on a daily basis. Lately, I don’t want anything to do with aneurysms, or talking about them, but I know opening up about the strain, stress and ordeals with others is helpful. I’m not sure how helpful this blog entry will be for anyone but I needed to get it out, so thank you for allowing me the space and bandwidth to do so.
My hope for anyone whose life has been effected by a brain aneurysm finds comfort, guidance, and strength for the New Year. I know I’ll be asking God for all of the above for my own family. God Bless and Merry Christmas.
First Major Holiday
Although I haven’t spent Thanksgiving with my family back in NY since 2008, I was with them in spirit yesterday. It’s the start of the “firsts” — holidays without Dori. From the sounds of it, they did okay. It will forever be different, something we learned after Kim died in 2008. The small holiday celebrations we used to have are forever changed as a result and my family in NY are just only beginning that stage. It’s painful and depressing at times, but it has to be done…life does go on, as painful as it is without those we love and miss.
I am sooooo grateful I insisted on that “family Christmas” last year and Dave and I drove to NY and spent Christmas with my family. As it turned out, it was the last time I ever saw Dori. We had a wonderful time and those are memories, and photos, I will treasure. I soooo wish I could have shared our photos from London with her. I know she would have loved our stories and images.
This Christmas, as was our first Christmas after Kim died, will be very different for Dori’s son and husband. They’ll soon realize just how much Dori did and meant to them at these holiday times. I know I’ll remember so many things about our growing up together and later as adults that we shared during the holidays. I need to remember those time and not let them fade. I need to smile, cry, get angry and let it out should I need to. It’s all part of the grieving process as much as I hate it. It’s only been six months since Dori died…yes, I’m still grieving and I miss her very, very much.
Since my survival of my own ruptured brain aneurysm, and Kim’s death as a result of a
rupture, I’ve made it a goal to educate people and enlighten their loved ones about the symptoms, treatments and after-effects of an aneurysm, but right now, after I lost my sister to a rupture….I just don’t even want to talk about them, hear about them, or look at them, but I guess I still have to. I’ll never get away from them, but perhaps, just perhaps, I can sneak in a few days during the holiday season where I won’t think about them for a few days. I can dream, but that’s my new reality. Dammit.
KAT-Walk & Karo-5K Events 2012
Even before yesterday’s 4th Annual KAT-Walk and 1st Annual Karo-5K started, I knew it was going to be a special event. The number of strangers effected by brain aneurysms that have contacted us this year about the event was astonishing. I think it also meant that our advertising efforts were finally paying off.
People from Maine, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Rhode Island, Maryland, and as far away as North Carolina informed us they were coming to the Walk/Run and
let us know WHY they were coming and with whom. Sharing their stories of loss, strength, courage, and survival – our original tribute to Kimberly Tudor’s memory has now become a tribute to anyone touched by brain aneurysms. I’m beginning to think that’s an even bigger tribute to Kim because of her desire to help people and comfort them. I constantly see her smile on these days and I know she would be proud of all of us and the hard work we’re doing.
As a survivor of a ruptured brain aneurysm, and living with another aneurysm, I love meeting other survivors. Our stories are all different and our paths of survival are also very different. Some are more successful than others and all of those examples were represented yesterday.
Dave and I arrived earlier than others at the venue to set up the main display. We wanted something to greet the volunteers as they started showing up to get them excited about the event. The trailer that transports all of the signs, banners, posts, poles, tents, boxes and forms from our house in Augusta, also doubles as a beautiful display of flags. Dave decorates is differently each year. Last year, because the walk landed on the 10th anniversary of 9/11, he decorated the trailer to remember those fallen that day.
This year, because the run was in honor of another family who lost their young daughter last year, the Karo-5k was run and new banners, signs and directional materials had to be created. The trailer included a photo of Karolina and Kim and new signage that Dave and I created.
The committee also decided to solicit for sponsorship this year to help defray the cost of the event and we were highly successful with the venture and could not have done it without them!
Setup for the event, as usual, was extensive and beautifully displayed. There was a brief rain shower that was significant enough to get everything wet, but not enough to dampen anyone’s spirit.
The rain stopped, the sun came back out and the winds picked up. Being on the coast allows for stunning views, the sounds of the water along the shoreline and high winds! We had all of those.
I was joined in the Brain Aneurysm tent by a fellow survivor, Julie. Dave and I had gone over to her aneurysm event in NH last month and she repaid that favor, but also provided a two-pronged attack in our tent to reach out to other survivors or those effected by aneurysms. Julie is a fervent advocate for early detection and fighting for your rights as a patient and demanding your own self care. She is also a breast cancer survivor. Very proud of her.
Two young woman who attended the event yesterday had flown into Maine from Baltimore on Friday night. Sarah had just lost her mom a month ago to a ruptured brain stem aneurysm. At 27 years old, we were impressed she decided to use our event as the way to honor her mother so soon after losing her. It was emotional and comforting for her and I believe everyone who attended welcomed her with open arms and knew how difficult it would be for her.
Both of the mother’s of Karolina and Kim took Sarah under their wings during the day and gravitated towards her, which was understandable, sad, and sweet all at the same time. They lost their young daughters who were both about the same age as Sarah, and Sarah had just lost her mother. Two mothers without daughters and a daughter suddenly without her mother. Touching and heartbreaking.
My own personal heartbreak for this year’s walk was honoring my sister Dori who we lost in May to a ruptured brain aneurysm. She had always wanted to come up for our walk and had met Kim when I had my rupture in October of 2006. How awful, ironic, and heartbreaking is it that Kim and Dori were both lost to ruptured brain aneurysms and I was the one who basically “introduced” them to aneurysms and got them interested and involved. It’s just not right and basically sucks. I find that word one of the best to describe it.
So, I decided to relinquish my duties at the aneurysm tent since Julie was helping me and complete the 3-mile walk in Dori’s honor. The last time I did the walk, was in 2009…in honor of Kim. I recalled a beautiful rainbow appeared that day and we knew it was Kim. Yesterday, I started the walk and about a mile into the walk I realized a little butterfly was flying in front of me off to the side.
I was walking by myself and kept seeing the butterfly, then it reminded me of the butterflies that were placed in the beautiful flower arrangements at Dori’s memorial service and the emotions took over. After trying to walk and cry at the same time, I realized I needed to get off the path, so I stepped aside and let it all out for a bit. Then I resumed the walk. Perhaps this beautiful monarch butterfly was Dori joining me for the walk finally.
As I went around the Back Cove and up onto the bridge, I looked across the water and saw the many flags and tents flying in the wind from our event. It was a beautiful sight and I felt very proud. Then as I rounded the corner and neared the 2.5 mile marker, I was looking at the chop in the water and remembering the one and only time Dave and I took Dori out onto the harbor on his sailboat when she came to Maine for a visit. Dori was scared too death, but we had fun. LOL It was a good memory.
I didn’t have anyone greeting me, but as I dragged my weary bones and feet across the finish line, I blew a kiss to the heavens above and told Dori that was for her. A few minutes later I saw another survivor, Leray, cross the finish line and made sure I ran (well, walked!) to greet her and congratulate her for completing the walk. I was very proud of both of us and Leray will be going in for a recoiling next week, so I wanted her to know how proud of her I was.
This year was also the first time some members of the local medical community participated. My own doctor, who did my stenting and recoiling in 2011, came with his family and Julie promptly made him wear one of the Brain Aneurysm Foundation baseball hats, which he did. He even ran with a baby stroller in tow. We’re hoping to have more medical events in the future so that local EMTs are educated to the symptoms as well as the general public. As I have mentioned before, if I had not gone to the ER and had myself checked out and the Dr. there hadn’t been suspicious of an aneurysm, I may not be here today. Many people have brain aneurysms misdiagnosed, and many are not here today as a result.
We don’t have the exact numbers yet, but it appears there were over 450 people at the walk and run. The run was very well attended and I know that meant a great deal to Karolina’s family and friends. Karo was an avid athlete and had just completed a triathalon a week or so prior to her rupture last July. I’m sure she would have been proud of all of the hard work her family and friends put into supporting this event.
There was a silent auction and this year I finally won those tickets to the Portland Symphony Orchestra’s Christmas concert in December. We had a magician and face painting for the kids and donated food and water to keep participants nourished. This year we rented a sound system with a wireless microphone and were lucky enough to get a fantastic announcer who was a close co-worker of Kim’s. Larry did a wonderful job. I also put together a playlist on my iPad that kept the crowd upbeat and happy.
Unfortunately, I was so busy I do not have any photos of the event myself. But there are some terrific photos of the run and walk HERE-››: Maine Running Photos. Once I receive more photo of the actual venues and tents, I’ll post more links. These are mostly of the run and walk itself and not of the fantastic setup and the new “Honor Board” that was a hit.
Not only is the Back Cove location a stunning venue to hold an event such as this, there is a real sense of community when family and friends meet to support one another and share stories and memories.
Brain Aneurysms don’t discriminate. Young, old, men, women, black, white….doesn’t matter. The sudden and shocking destruction of a rupture CAN be prevented in most cases if the aneurysm is discovered before it ruptures and that’s the word we’re trying to get out. If you’re “lucky” enough to have symptoms before a rupture (some do not), it’s important to get it checked out and insist on getting a good CT-Scan or an MRA. It could save the life of a loved one, or yourself.
Heidi's Brain Blog 