Mark Tolley

It was the 28th July 1995 when I had my brain haemorrhage; but it still feels like it was only last week.

I was fourteen years old, and had just finished year 10 at high school, a year before I took my dreaded GCSEs. I had been out on a bike ride with two friends in the morning, and had arranged to go swimming in the afternoon, which (luckily!), was cancelled at the last minute.

I spent the afternoon alone playing on my computer when, without any warning, I suddenly felt dizzy and very sick. I tried to stand up, but I completely lost my balance and fell backwards onto my bed. My vision had just become an erratic kaleidoscope of colours, unable focus on anything. My head pounded with an indescribable pain. I was able to get to my feet and stagger towards the bedroom door, and start making my way downstairs to the kitchen (I don't really know why I tried to do this, but the medicine cabinet was in there so I think it was an automatic response) I managed to get half way before my legs completely buckled and I fell the rest of the way, hitting my head and shoulders on the radiator in the hallway, but I didn't feel a thing. I managed to reach the kitchen on my hands and knees, and haul myself onto the bench where I just sat with my head in my hands, trying to comprehend what was happening. I fell off the bench a few seconds later as my balance completely deserted me and just lay crumpled on the floor, waiting to be found. I was drifting in and out of consciousness at this point; the last thing I remember was Dad frantically calling someone on the telephone before I lost passed out completely.

The time it took from me being an average 14 year old playing videogames in his room to losing consciousness on the kitchen floor, at a guess, was about four minutes.

The doctor rushed me and my Dad to a local hospital where they took CT scans of my brain and tried several responsiveness tests. I was returned to a ward to see if I would regain consciousness, but when it was confirmed that I had suffered a massive Brain Haemorrhage, I was taken then to the Walsgrave Hospital in Coventry where they performed an emergency Craniotomy where they cut a hole in my skull, clipped the bleeding blood vessels with metal clips, removed the blood that had flooded my brain and left me in an induced coma to see if I would recover. I was given about a 30-40% chance of survival.

I woke up several days after the operation in the Intenstive Care unit, unable to comprehend what had happened to me. I couldn’t talk or form sentences correctly; the right hand side of my body was almost completely paralysed. The room I was in would rearrange itself every time I blinked. It was as if I was frozen in time while the world around me rushed by. I struggled to recognise visitors at my bedside, one minute recognising them as family but the next they were just strangers. I remember a mirror being thrust in front of me; but I didn't even recognise my reflection. My hair had been shaved off and I had an enormous scar running from behind my left ear towards the top of my head.

My mum tried to explain what had happened to me but I couldn’t understand. I’d never even heard of a Brain Haemorrhage before, and had only heard of strokes when they happened to someone on TV.

After a few days in this confused state, I was transferred to my local hospital’s children’s ward, where I was able to receive visitors; this is where my recovery really picked up. My family and friends made me smile and laugh again just by talking to me. I received intensive physiotherapy to get my strength in my body back and occupational therapy where I had to perform household tasks like making a cup of tea and doing a jigsaw. I was given a wheelchair which I was only able to move slightly at first; but even this small achievement was a massive boost to regaining my independence. My right arm, hand and leg still refused to work most of the time, which was very frustrating as it meant I couldn’t play with the games console in the children’s ward, my fingers refusing to press the buttons no matter how hard I willed them to.

I was finally allowed to go home a week later with a strict exercise regime and speech and language therapy sessions to regain my communication skills. I couldn't do much for myself anymore, and I had to rely on mum and dad for everything. I hated being so dependant on other people. I had one goal; to get back to school and be with my friends again. Thanks to the physiotherapy sessions, I had managed to regain the ability to stand and walk again which, to me, was the biggest achievement I had made. I was finally able to climb the stairs to my bedroom at home where I was finally able to get some privacy, away from the constant supervision. My speech had returned with the Speech and Language therapy, although I was still struggling to say the right words in the correct order and context. I think that being unable to express myself was the scariest and most frustrating aspect of the brain haemorrhage. It was like being imprisoned in my own mind, and as a hormone-addled teenager striving for independence; it was an excruciatingly difficult period of time.

Three weeks later, I was summoned back to the Walsgrave hospital for an angiogram, where it was revealed that I needed another operation to clip the bleed further, which was a massive blow to me as I was afraid it would undo all the hard work I’d done in the various therapy sessions I had attended. The operation wasn’t as long as the first one, and I managed to regain consciousness again with most of my faculties intact. I was walking again after a couple of days of being moved from the ICU to a regular ward. Another angiogram revealed that I needed one more operation to finally clip the bleed, which was carried out a couple of weeks later. I was finally discharged from hospital in late September and allowed to recover at home. By this time, my mobility had returned and I was able to walk unassisted for increasingly longer distances.

I was finally allowed back to school in October 1995, with the strict condition that I had to be kept separate from the other students during busy times in the corridors, in case I was knocked over and banged my head. My treatment once I had returned was a mixture of compassion, indifference, fascination and disbelief. Most were kind to me and patient with my difficulties, but some people (mostly other students but a couple of teachers too) accused me of exaggerating my symptoms to “gain attention” or to get out of doing work which was really hurtful; although as apart from the big scar and speech problems, there appeared to be nothing wrong with me, outwardly at least.

I failed all of my practice GCSE exams spectacularly and was almost moved to the lower ability groups but I refused to leave; the brain haemorrhage giving me a resilience and stubbornness that I didn't possess before. I worked really hard over the remaining few months of the term before the actual GCSE exams in May 1996; where I managed to get my grades back up to pass levels which, considering the situation I was in less 12 months previously was a monumental achievement.

Since leaving school I have managed to go to college and graduate with a HND in computing, pass my driving test, go to work and travel to the Pacific Islands, New Zealand and Australia. It was whilst travelling that it hit me just how fortunate I was, not only to survive a Brain Haemorrhage, but to make an almost full recovery with no severe impact on my life. In a funny sort of way, I feel very fortunate to have had the stroke, as it showed me just how important it is to make every day count and to seize whatever opportunities come my way; an attitude that I still possess today.

I moved away from home in 2005 into my own home with my girlfriend Jodie, who I married in 2007. I am still reminded of the Brain Haemorrhage every day; usually when I stumble over my words or catch a glimpse of the scar in the mirror, but I still feel incredibly fortunate to have overcome virtually all the challenges that the condition presents. Different Strokes have been extremely helpful with my recovery, from providing information to me and my family, to contacting other stroke survivors via the message board; several of whom I am in regular contact with.

Thank you for reading my story, and whether you are a stroke survivor yourself, or you care for someone who is, I wish you all the best.

Thanks to Mark for sending in his profile. Anyone else who would like to share their story can send it along with a photograph (if you're not shy!)

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