at 32 years old, i had an ischemic stroke aborted by tPA..and this is my story.

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i’ve been staring at my computer for over an hour with not a single word written. how do i start the post that quite literally could have not been written because i could not be alive if it weren’t for my husband and my medical team? i don’t know. i have no idea how to start it, but, here we go.

this post has been in the making for weeks. i’ve started. and stopped. and between deficits and my physical + emotional ups and downs, it’s been hard to truly get it all down. and quite honestly, this post probably won’t make a whole lot of sense and while i’ve re-read the dang thing 200 times, i’m probably still missing words with incomplete thoughts and bouncing around like my newly turned 3 year old.

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you can read about our trip to mayo clinic to find answers + make a solid treatment plan here!

it’s been 7.5  weeks. 7.5 weeks since i was sitting alone in the neuro ICU, with neuro checks every 15 minutes from 2 nurses that were making sure i wasn’t going to have another stroke. another stroke. the word doesn’t even seem real. i am 32 years old. with 4 children 5 and under + a husband and we just moved into our dream ‘forever’ home 5 months ago. the word ‘stroke’ was only supposed to be used when it came to talking about our grandparents…and even then it was scary. but here we are, alone in the neuro ICU without my husband or any family by my side {thanks COVID} trying to wrap my very foggy brain around the fact that i had an ischemic stroke.

the early signs + symptoms of my ischemic stroke

i had been having headaches and jaw pain from a fall a few days before, carrying miller {my 2.5 year old} that had been getting worse by the day and night. i had mentioned to zach a few times that my tongue and face had been going numb but hadn’t thought too much from it since i truly felt like it was from my fall…and maybe it was.

the kids had earned a family sleepover in our room so we had the best night watching the star, eating popcorn and talking about Jesus. looking back, it truly brings me to my knees…it was the best night with our kids and to think that could have been my last night.
it’s those thoughts that keep me up at night.

i woke up at 2am with excruciating pain. the worst head pain imaginable…that is only comparable to the time i had meningitis in college and my brain was swollen.  i got up to take a Percocet that i had left over from my hysterectomy and a fresh bag of ice to ice my face. i texted one of my best friends {who is a nurse} and said i couldn’t do this anymore…something was wrong. and then i climbed back into bed.

and then all hell broke loose.

i started talking non-sense. it was an out of body experience because the words came out, and then i’d think, wait, what did you just say?? i was telling zach i was going to go to the gym… nonsense. zach thought i was dreaming since he didn’t realize i had been up, so he told me to go back to sleep..and thank god for the next steps. i started vomiting in bed and zach had to pick me up to get me out of bed and into the bathroom. I wasn’t make sense. because zach is a type 1 diabetic, the first thing that came to his mind was blood sugar. so he tried to get me to eat but my tongue wasn’t working. i couldn’t make it do what i wanted it to do. he’d ask me what his name was, how many kids we had… and when i couldn’t answer, he called my mom and then called 911. 

the EMTs arrived quickly and it was clear i needed medical attention. 32 year old with my symptoms, the main concern was drugs. i remember snippets. i remember wanting to hold the EMTs hand because i was terrified. but then his face would appear and i had no idea who he was or what was happening. with as bad as it all was, about 10 minutes from the hospital things really went downhill.

ischemic stroke symptoms:

 confusion
left-sided facial droop
left-sided weakness {completely}
slurred speech
balance {I couldn’t walk}
loss of vision {left eye}

the emergency room

the paramedic had called in a stroke alert with 10 minutes before we arrived at the hospital, so they were ready. i had an IV in and was taken immediately to the CT scan to check for a bleed or a clot.

it was chaos. doctors and nurses everywhere. it was clear they were being efficient and they were incredible at their job, but it was horrifying.
2 IVs in my arms and I was continuing to fail the neuro checks. they kept saying, ‘Lindsey, you HAVE to do this. you HAVE to raise your arms and hold them there.’ and then they’d fall.
test after test, failed.

I didn’t realize it at the time but it was a race against the clock. every second counts with a stroke and seconds mean brain matter.

it was clear my jaw/face/head was killing me but i was only able to communicate that by holding the left side of my face with my right hand. at some point they had done an x-ray to make sure my jaw wasn’t broken, which it wasn’t. there’s so much i don’t remember…but then i remember the neurologist. she asked if i understood what was happening, and I tried to shake my head no…but i think she had asked another question because then she said something about consent to administer something and asked if I wanted zach to come in. i tried to answer yes, but i think I got that one wrong as well.

tPA – tissue plasminogen activator

tissue plasminogen activator, or tPA, is the only FDA-approved treatment for ischemic or thrombotic stroke, which is stroke caused by a blood clot interrupting blood flow to a region of the brain.

the magic clot busting drug. and with it’s incredible magical power also brings with it the potential for horrific after-effects, like a brain bleed causing another stroke…and death. BUT. the biggest caveat to tPA is that it has a timeline and it’s a race against the clock…and we were running out of time. thankfully zach had made the call when he did so we were still within the timeframe.

4 hours.

4 hours from the onset of symptoms and we were pushing it. zach had to consent and thankfully, he made the right call that saved my life.
they told him i might die. that he did the best he could. and then the chaplain came.

i remember them telling me that they were going to have to give me this. and that i might die. and then these 4 sweet faces came flashing into my mind. and i was stuck inside this body that wasn’t functioning thinking I may never see my babies. I may never kiss their cheeks. I may never sing our songs. I may never hold their hands… I still can’t get through this part without the air feeling like it’s being knocked out from inside of me. it was the most helpless, horrific feeling.

at some point he was by my side. brushing the hair out of my face and telling me he loved me. that we’re going to get through this. and at the time i simply had no idea what was happening. i had zero concept of what tPA was. never even had I heard that term before… but I remember looking at zach and feeling like i could talk again….

stroke resolution

‘my head hurts’

it was the first words that came out.
and then there wasn’t a dry eye in the room.
the nurses. the docs. zach. there were tears everywhere. it worked.
the tPA worked.

i had no idea what had happened, but all of a sudden i could talk. and within 10-20 minutes i was back at baseline and answering questions and they were able to explain to me what happened.

ischemic stroke.

it was the first time that i heard the words. ‘you had an ischemic stroke aborted by tPA.’

we took this picture to send my mom before i was moved to the ICU so she could see my face and know I was ‘okay’.

because of COVID, there were so many rules. i needed to be moved up to the neuro ICU for watch because of the tPA, but zach wasn’t allowed with me. within 15 minutes, he had to say goodbye, give me a kiss and I was wheeled away…and prayed that i’d make it through this.

it’s all too much sometimes. it’s hard to relive this over and over. it’s hard to get the words out…but as I’ve worked through therapy, it’s helpful to talk about it. to find some sort of ‘why’ in the midst of all of this, even if that just means that hopefully it will support someone else. at 32 years old, the last thing we thought possible was stroke. it didn’t make sense.

and as this all unfolds, we have discovered SO much more information. there’s more to the story that we didn’t know and it’s been a heck of 7.5 weeks. i’m finding my groove. finding some peace and hoping to continue to share as i’m able.