Stroke Alert! – The Wife’s Point of View

Written By: Mariana van der Ree

“Stroke alert! Stroke alert! Emergency room…” Those were the only words I heard, as I arrived into the emergency department at Memorial West Hospital. Nurses rushed into a corner room, where my husband was laying on a stretcher being intubated, and I clearly remember the look in everyone’s eyes “Poor little girl”. Why does someone so young and healthy have to experience an event so bizarre? I was honestly hoping to wake up from the worst nightmare of my life. I felt lost, confused, and terrified because just less than an hour ago my husband was cooking breakfast.

I remember exactly the moment when the doctor told me my husband had to be transferred to Memorial Regional Hospital because he needed immediate surgery to stop, and drain the massive bleeding in his head (Pretty hard pill to swallow if you ask me he literally just turned 30). The paramedics put me back in the ambulance, and we were headed for his emergency  craniotomy. As I rode passenger, I saw people driving their cars, walking with their family, and it just seemed like such a normal Saturday, but definitely not for me. I turned around to see a nurse pumping oxygen into my husband, and he was trying to reach for her hand thinking it was me (Pretty Heartbreaking).

As I entered Memorial Regional and my husband was getting prepped for surgery, they gave me his wedding ring. The Surgeon came over to introduce himself, as well as explain how he would need to remove part of my husband’s skull for 2-3 weeks, and told me I had to sign a bunch documents. I now carried the difficult responsibility of making medical decisions for him. Only 6 months ago I was rushing through these similar OR doors to deliver our baby boy. Why is this happening? Why did my husband have a hemorrhage? So many questions, and no concrete answers.

Now the waiting begun. A surgery that took 2 hours felt like 2 days up until I saw the surgeon coming towards the waiting room. “The good news is, I was able to stop and drain the bleeding. The bad news is, I do not know what caused it so, we are running some more tests.” The doctor also informed us (The entire family and more filled the waiting room) that where he had to enter the skull was an area which controlled movement of the entire left side, and he didn’t know how much damage was caused. He only knew that there would be weakness. “I did not have to remove part of his skull thankfully…”

Walking into ICU, seeing my husband intubated, with half his hair gone, staples in his head, and with the same socks he was wearing that morning felt so surreal. The risk of another bleed was still present and a CT scan was done at 8:20PM. The results were shared with us the next day. It was the longest night ever! The next morning, the lovely nurse finally gave us the results. The bleeding was caused by a Arteriovenous malformation (AVM) and we need to get Dr. Duong’s team together, to perform an Angiogram. 

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Here we go again, another waiting game until they put the whole on call team together to perform the procedure. I felt like I signed more paperwork these days than when we bought our first house. During the angiogram I was called to see pictures of the AVM. I was advised he would try embolization (Inject glue through the artery into the malformation), but that the AVM was so superficial he doubted he would get to it with the catheter. 

I paced nervously throughout Memorial Regional’s halls, then actually bumped into the doc who gave me the great news he was able insert the glue. Of course, I jumped hysterically, hugged him, and noticed right away he was not use to the affectionate Hispanic culture (Who doesn’t like hugs though?). He saw the amount of family then asked “Hey is that the whole family?! Can you do me the favor and update them please”.

Now we had to wait for swelling of brain to go down, before the doctors could removed my husband from an induced coma. How the hell am I suppose to explain to him what happened? Will he remember everything? What did the doctor mean by “a weakness on the left side”. Overwhelmed with questions, and emotions, but nothing compares to the miraculous journey my husband was about to go through after waking up from his coma. After 3 days in ICU, the time came to wake him up! “Let’s remove the tubes and slowly reduce medication…You might want to step outside for this…” The nurse suggested. Until I heard… “Babe, babe, Take me to the hoosssspital…” As you all Remember.

To learn more about AVM and its effects, you can visit this LINK.

I have an Angiogram on August 31

I’m taking a small break from my story to share a dilemma I’m currently facing because it is affecting me a bit at the moment. Also, the next part of my story will have to be written by my wife since I was in an induced coma for a few days. Lets give her about a week because shes been extremely busy.

You are all most likely wondering what in the world is an angiogram. I get it, we are all busy playing Fortnite or doing the Drake “In My Feelings” dance, so let me explain. It is a procedure done by a doctor with a team (Lucky for me Dr. Hoang D. Duong is amazing and if i am not mistaken he is a director for Memorial with over 30 years of experience).

Here is the general breakdown. The procedure requires the patient to be completely still in order to be effective and successful. Step one, you are sedated (I am typically maxed out due to fighting it and not relaxing). Step two, they will sterilize your groin area where a minuscule incision will be made for a specialized catheter. Step 3, the catheter is inserted and threaded through blood vessels to get into the carotid artery. It is located in your neck and carries blood to your brain. Experiencing these medical advancements first hand really surprises me as I learn about them myself. 

Now onto the final steps. Once in the Carotid, a contrast dye is injected and it will travel into the blood vessels in your brain (sounds like a fun long weekend huh?). Finally, multiple X-rays are taken, however I’m not to sure how the logistics work throughout all that scanning process. Then everything is removed and the incision is closed. 

 

The whole procedure lasts from one to three hours and because of what I recently went through I will be required to stay at least 24 hours. So why are you so stressed out Mario? Like with everything in life, risks exist and I have to sign off on them. The possibility of another stroke, excessive bleeding, formation of blood clots, puncturing an artery etc. My family and I went through so much already, nevertheless this is home stretch for me. If all goes well I should live the rest of my life worry free and lets face it you cannot put a price on peace of mind.

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This will be my 2nd Angiogram, the other was done right after my craniotomy which is how the AVM was found and thankfully the embolization was successful. This is like the “lets double check follow up.” I have a good feeling everything will go well. My son’s birthday is right after all this mumbo jumbo and I cannot wait to spend time with him and my wife who has stuck by my side 24/7. I married the right woman hands down.

Now back to your regular scheduled program… 

To learn more about AVM and its effects, you can visit this LINK.