September 1985, just two days before my sixteenth birthday, I suffered a cerebral hemorrhage and stroke caused by an Arteriovenous Malformation. The AVM had been growing in my brain since birth, though we were not aware of it until the day it ruptured.

Since the age of twelve I complained about headaches, though no test had been ordered.  My pediatrician thought it was hormone-related and said it would pass. On the day of the rupture, I woke up with a headache, but it wasn’t severe, so I took 1 Excedrin and went to school. During my physical education class, I began to have pains in my chest and left arm. My coach had me raise my arms above my head and take a deep breath. After doing that a few times the pain went away. I went to my next class though something didn’t feel right so I asked permission to call home. While I was waiting in the principal’s office to use the phone, I began to feel lightheaded and pounding on the left side of my head.  My speech was slurred, and I felt confused.  By the time I found my way back to my class to get my books, my vision had become blurry, and I passed out on my desk.

I was taken to the emergency room, and after 5 hours with no test ordered, I was discharged.  Just hours later I began vomiting and holding both sides of my head screaming “my head”.  My parents took me back to the hospital and asked for a CT of the brain. The CT showed a hematoma (bleed) and AVM in the left temporal lobe with midline shift. Within minutes they were wheeling me back to the E.R. with an ambulance waiting to transport me to Texas Children’s Hospital in Houston, Texas. The best neurosurgeon in the South part of the U.S. had been contacted and was expecting my arrival. When we arrived at Texas Children’s Hospital shortly after 1:00 a.m. another CT was ordered. The neurosurgeon told my family it could be a few days before they could do surgery due to the pressure in my brain. Then I began lapsing into an irreversible coma. They rushed me into surgery with little hope that I would survive. After 9 hours of surgery to remove the AVM my family were told I had 50% chance of survival, and if I woke up from the coma it could be several days.

The next morning, I woke up recognizing everyone as they stood around my bed singing Happy Birthday. It was my 16th birthday, and I wasn’t going to miss it. The neurosurgeon told my family that the survival rate from a cerebral hemorrhage without permanent disability was 10%, and that I would need 2 years of rehab to learn how to walk and talk again.  The following day they removed the respirator, and I was talking, and trying to name all the 7 cats we had back home.

Day two I was moved from ICU to a private room and began to feed myself with my left (opposite) hand.  The fourth day after surgery I was walking unassisted, holding on to a rail. I returned home after the tenth day and attended a football game on the fifteenth day.

I suffered some aphasia, drooping of my right arm and leg and double vision in my left eye. I had no physical therapy, though I worked to strengthen the use of my right hand by playing the piano and using the typewriter. There were times of emotional difficulties, which are common after brain injury. I returned to school two months later and completed my sophomore year at Alternative School. I was so fortunate that a teacher offered to work with me so I could go at my own pace. I returned to high School the following year and graduated with my class of 1988.

I received a lot of prayers and support from my family, friends, churches and the staff at Texas Children’s Hospital. Support is needed at a time in your life when you have lost your self-confidence. The stroke made a change in my life… I was given a second chance to live, and it made me appreciate things more.

I still at times can become overwhelmed and get tired easily. There will always be some aphasia from the stroke. Loud noises still bother me and sometimes I break myself away from a crowd and go to a quiet place.

I always look forward to spending time with my AVM group in Houston and inviting new friends to our group. I have made hundreds of friends through social media with other AVM/Brain Aneurysm survivors worldwide.

Today I am 55 years of age and have been working in the medical field for 30 years. In 2024 a coworker that is a brain aneurysm survivor and I were one of 4 in Texas New Mexico Hospice & Palliative Care Organization that received The Charley Wasson Hospice Advocate Award in Austin, Tx.  I enjoy photography, RV camping and kayaking with my husband John who is a retired fireman of 30 years.

My mother had been working on the manuscript entitled “We Call it Miraculous…Caryn’s Story” for over 30 years and passed away in a Hospice facility in 2023. Though she was unable to get her book published she continued to share my story everywhere she went. “It was a beautiful experience”, she said. “We felt God’s presence through it all.”

Connecting with the Niekro Foundation has benefitted me – it’s great to see an organization that supports AVM/Brain Aneurysm Survivors. In 1985 internet did not exist, and there were no support groups in this area. I enjoy reading post on Facebook and try to get involved when there is a fundraising event.

My words of advice for other survivors is Never give up! It doesn’t happen overnight but every day you’re a step closer to recovering. Always think of what you can do (be supportive to other survivors) and not what you lost. Always have faith and believe in the healing power of prayers.