About me

It took me a while to realize what is it I want to write about. I knew I wanted to write but I guess I had to let serendipity lead me this time as well, as it has many times before in life.

Let me start with the usual – a little bit about myself; I am a ruptured brain aneurysm survivor and this is my story. The reason I started this page is to reach out to all of you whose stories need to be heard, all of you who have the same fears, all of you who need someone to talk to, and all of you who need a little push in the right direction so you can find your way – the way you were destined for.

My life's journey started 50 years ago, but I really started living 8 years ago - August 21st, 2015, to be exact. That's the day my life took every possible turn in the book and took me where I am today. Happy, grateful, alive, living to the fullest, and conquering everyday fears with all I've got because I am a survivor and a warrior!

My story starts on a particular Friday. I got home from work, thinking the work week was finally over. I was living alone and not eating very healthy. Why is it so difficult and annoying to cook for just one? I had a leftover pizza for dinner and decided to just veg out in front of the TV. I wanted to let go of all the stress and drama from that week and let go I did. I felt something pop inside my head, and my arms and legs immediately became numb. I felt things were happening in slow motion. I said to myself “just relax and things will get better,” but things didn’t get better so I decided to try and sleep it off. You know what everyone says, “it'll be better in the morning.” It’s 6 P.M. and I'm headed to my bedroom to crash. I awoke a couple of hours later with a tremendous headache and the need to vomit. I dragged myself out of bed and onto the hard living room floor. The amount of pain I felt the next couple of minutes was excruciating, and it was only then I realized something was seriously wrong. I was able to reach my phone in the living room, call my mom at about 10 P.M., and woke the poor lady up with the words no parent wants to hear – “Mom please help me! Please save me,” I don't remember much after that, but my mom later told me that I took the key out of my door, lowered the chains on the deadbolt, and was half dead on the floor by the time she reached my home.

I never even knew before that crazy weekend what a brain aneurysm even is, let alone the damage it can do. I literally lost 7 days of my life during that ordeal. I don't remember a thing, and waking up in the ICU is something one never imagines happening to themselves.

Did you know that someone suffers a ruptured brain aneurysm every 18 minutes? Ruptured brain aneurysms are fatal in about 40% of cases, and of those who survive about 66% suffer some permanent neurological damage. Approximately 15% of patients with aneurysmal subarachnoid hemorrhage (SAH) die before reaching the hospital. For me, that's exactly when my life actually started. Everything else that happened before that was just leading up to that moment and steering me in a different direction, away from everything I was building, thinking, and feeling - everything I was, and I knew.

One month in the ICU gave me enough time to think about all the wrong turns I took and the laughs I never had. I thought I was living, and that my purpose was not to feel but just to be. But reality is that I was not. Then I realized that I was given a second chance in life and that I could have easily have gone without an opportunity to say goodbye, I love you, I am sorry; isn't that the worst? That fear lingers with me even to this day. No matter what I do or how happy I am, I can’t stop this fear from invading my life. Some of you will know what I'm talking about. Every day is a gift and so different from the others. I have tons of questions, but unfortunately I don't have tons of answers.

But I’m thinking that maybe if I asked them here, answers would come from all of you who are going through the same thing, or the very least we can find the answers together. Also, I would like to talk about the amazing families and friends who were and still are our support, and whose love and determination to help is what gives all of us strength to move on. My mom is an amazing woman and without her pushing me, feeding me, and telling me I'm a warrior every single day, I would not be walking, talking, and leading this amazing life I'm living right now.

Here are some of my everyday questions and fears - I am wondering if we can share them?

I have a titanium aneurysm clip on the right side of my head, and I am worried every single day that the clip will loosen, and I’ll drop then and there.

When you have to do a head MRI are you also afraid that the clip might react to it?

Does your short- and long-term memory been affected, making you work harder to memorize certain things?

Is your speech off?

Do you feel as if your body is not as flexible as before? Do you feel more stiff?

Do you have headaches? When do you have them?

Does an elevator ride bother you?

How about a plane ride?

Temperature fluctuation? 

Let me go back in time a little bit; not quite like Benjamin Button, but far enough so we could catch up and come to the present day. I promise to try to make it fun and least boring as possible. What happened to me was clearly no fun but I choose to look at it as a blessing because I am here and alive. I want/need to help everyone who is in the same situation and needs help.

• Did you know that laughing is considered a cure?

An important thing to remember is that we are all different. Each and every one of us feels, loves, thinks, craves, griefs, sees, aches, and copes differently. What I am relating here is my story: my feelings, thoughts, tears, pain, love, understanding, and passion.

I was in the hospital 1 month in ICU and a week in a regular ward. That first night in my own bed meant so much. Mom moved in with me because I was unable to use the left side of my body. Walking was adventure and headaches were there 24/7 for the next 7 months, but I was home and in my mom’s hands once again, like when I was a child. She was funny, strict, she knows me, what can I say.

The next few months were really difficult and a roller coaster of emotions. I get teary-eyed when I think about it. I will probably mention my mom hundred more times, but I really do have to. She kept me focused, grounded, pushing me, making me laugh, yelling at me when I was ready to give up, massaging my aching body, feeding me...OMG that woman needs a medal.

She told me the story about when she saw me for the first time after the surgery. I was in such bad shape that not even my mom recognized me. She went and held the hand of an unknown person in the another bed for a second in the ICU because my head was black and blue and swollen and she said it didn't look like her daughter.

I lost a week since the rupture and the days that followed were depressing and really difficult. I was able to have visitors only for 30 minutes per day and had the feeling that time was dragging just to spite me. Having clock on the wall directly across me didn't help either.

Back to my mom: she taught me that nothing is impossible, that it’s just a word and didn’t want to hear me saying there’s something I couldn’t do, because I am her daughter and we can do everything we set our minds to.

We started walking regularly. The first couple of days it took all of my energy in a flash. I started my walks with a step, then two, then five. I felt great, and I was also pushed by my friends. They made a pact that they will find time to go for a walk with me every single day, and they did! For the next few months, they would come, pick me up, walk with me, made me laugh and forget how sad I was. I am truly blessed.

One of the walks I took by myself was eye-opening. It took me a few months to realize that I could have been gone without saying goodbye, saying “I love you” to those that count, “I’m sorry” to those I might have hurt without even knowing it. No more sunsets, sunrises, laughing, family, or friends. At that moment tears flowed and a humbled feeling rushed through my body. It took me a while to swallow that pill. It was an unpleasant feeling that has never left me.

Let’s jump from sadness to another of my mom’s funny moments. Each time I would go for a walk, I had to wave to mom, who was like an eagle on the balcony, watching my every step. God forbid if I was behind something where she couldn't see me. The phone would ring and it would be her asking where I was, and telling me to go back to where she could see me. Damn, I love her so much.

My walk was part of my daily routine, the same routine I keep to this day. In couple of months I started walking at least 5 miles a day. I was like a rolling stone, pushing myself to do more and more.

On that note, this rolling stone will continue this nail-biting story tomorrow. Until then, don’t forget to laugh.

Hey, you warriors (I hope you smiled)!

I want to write today about perception. My determination to help myself and to conquer all that was thrown at me as much as possible was huge. Every time I looked in the mirror I saw a healthy woman and somehow I disregarded my atrophied muscles, which was all under the skin and unseen to the naked eye. I started walking and pushed myself before tending to my muscles first. No one told me how to help myself; even to my doctor I was fine. I was stressed, depressed, in pain and tired. My hair started falling out, and my 24/7 headaches were draining me. But the mirror told another story, remember?! I looked just fine: head on my shoulders, legs, arms, all accounted for and functioning. Then I tried to do what every woman would do when she is ready to make a drastic change in life: I cut my hair off, inhaled, exhaled and I was ready for the next round.

It is only recently, two years later, that I realized that I should have fixed myself from the inside out. I was trying to get in shape with my daily walks and was always telling myself that it was not enough, that I need more. Of course, the mirror was telling another story while I was explaining to it that I am doing well. I am walking five miles daily and thought I was on the right track. Then I thought of the gym and off I went. A few days later, I was at the gym. Do I even need to tell you that I was sore for a week? Finding out that my left side was weaker was another curve ball, but I am no quitter. I kept on building my strength even with the pain I was feeling and started Pilates as well. After the first class and not being able to control my body and do the simplest things, I thought I would not be back for Pilates again. I did want to know if there is something I can do at home to help myself, so I asked my instructor about simple exercises I could do and I explained what was bothering me. She then showed me her scar from the back injury and told me it took her eight months of dedication and hard work to get her where she is today. I of course cried (I cry when I'm touched by peoples’ stories), and it was then and there that I decided to be back and kick my weak side in the ass.

This is what I have learned from that experience: be honest with yourself, be realistic and never give up. Surviving a brain aneurysm is a big deal, our perception is distorted, and all those smoke and mirrors can be bypassed. Never be afraid to ask for help because you never know; maybe that will push you in the direction you were meant to venture.

See you soon, warriors and in the meantime, don't forget to smile.