Usually I associate the familiar phrase “The days are long, but the years are short” with the raising of children. It’s astonishing how exhausting days are with the sleep-deprivation that accompanies caring for newborn babies, chasing toddlers, or correcting a sassy pre-teen, but then – BAM!! – they are grown. Where do the years go when the days can seem so long? And as difficult as raising young children can be, when looking back on the challenges, there is an almost surreal quality to it.
It occurred to me recently that my patients have expressed to me this same sentiment with the process of stroke recovery. The long days in the hospital, then the acute rehab process early on with exhausting therapy sessions, then outpatient therapy while trying to return to life as “normal” when a new normal has arisen, and the previous normal no longer exists…wow. These days can drag on and seem absolutely interminable.
But then, the one year anniversary after surviving a stroke eventually arrives, then the two year anniversary, and then – five years have passed. The stroke anniversary remains etched in minds and hearts, and carries its own special significance. When the anniversary passes each year, it can bring many emotions.
Fear – “Will it happen again?”
Grief – “I miss the person I used to be and the life I used to have.”
Discouragement – “My doctor said I will stop improving after a year – does this mean I won’t continue to get better?”
Encouragement – “Look how much progress I have made!”
Victory – “Five years later, I’m making it each day – stroke isn’t going to stop me.”
(That whole you-won’t-improve-after-a-year thing is ridiculous, by the way, particularly in younger patients. Every person is unique is his or her recovery, and I have seen young patients still showing improvement three years later.)
Having heard and witnessed so much devastation that arises from stroke, I began feeling confused over time as some patients began sharing gratitude for their strokes. Grateful? For a stroke? How could that be? And as I have listened, the reasons have been numerous:
“I never would have chosen to have a baby if I had not had a stroke – it forced me to re-examine what I wanted in life.”
“I appreciate the little things so much more now than I did before my stroke.”
“I met the love of my life at a stroke support group.”
“I was so stressed out at work before my stroke and was burning at both ends. The stroke forced me to slow down and re-focus.”
“Before my stroke my house had to be absolutely perfect. The other day I found my two year old son coloring on the living room floor, and I was so grateful for him that it didn’t bother me.” (I have to remember this one patient’s story on a weekly basis.)
Perhaps this is what I find so inspiring about stroke survivors – the resilience in these statements, the search for the silver linings, and the way they keep going after unexpected life-altering events.
The Stroke Blog has been relatively silent recently as I have attempted to find my own sense of balance. Writing has always been a passion, and unfortunately it took a back seat to many other competing obligations over the past year. In the new year, though, it has moved closer to the front, and for that I am immensely grateful. I will be updating you on many topics, and look forward to the ongoing journey.
August 5, 2017 was a typical night for my girlfriend and me: quiet dinner, just the two of us, followed by dessert at Amelie’s, a popular bakery in Charlotte, North Carolina. After arriving home, little did we know that the night was only getting started.
At around 1AM, Jessie awoke to my arm twitching. I told her I couldn’t move it, but we thought I had just slept on it wrong. A few minutes later, I realized I couldn’t move the entire left side of my body. This was coupled with a noticeable facial droop. Panic started to set in, and neither of us knew what to do. Luckily, I had family close by, and my older sister came right over. The next thing I remember, paramedics were by my side and I was being rushed to a hospital.
Brett is seen here during his hospitalization after his brain hemorrhage. He has only a patchy recollection of his days spent in the hospital.
The following few weeks were a blur. I’ve been able to piece the events back together with the help of family and friends. I spent six days in the ICU, another week in intermediate care, and was then discharged to a rehab facility to start intense physical and occupational therapy for my arm and leg. While I don’t remember much about my time in the hospital, I do remember one morning a nurse coming in and taking sixteen tubes of blood in order to try to get some answers. Some routine tests, and some sent off to the Mayo clinic for a more comprehensive analysis. Regardless, the tests all had one thing in common – they came back negative.
While I was hospitalized, countless doctors and nurses would enter the room and perform scans, MRIs, and other medical tests that I didn’t even know existed. The only consensus was that I had a right-sided intracerebral hemorrhage in the basal ganglia (structures deep within the brain, a common location for bleeding, although not in someone my age), which resulted in left-sided weakness. It looked like your classic brain hemorrhage caused by high blood pressure, or so I was told.
There was only one problem: I was a healthy 28-year-old man with no history of high blood pressure. My blood pressure was not even high the night of the stroke when the paramedics evaluated me.
Even after being transferred to the rehab hospital, more doctors came in, more tests were done, but no diagnosis was reached. The two weeks I spent at the rehab hospital were both challenging and eventful. In that 14-day time span, my nephew was born six weeks early and my grandmother was in and out of the hospital twice for her own medical reasons. My mom was a trooper, running around to three different hospitals and getting very little sleep. Despite this, I never spent a night alone in the hospital. My family, friends, and girlfriend provided me with more support than I could have ever expected.
Brett learned how to walk again with the assistance and encouragement of many physical therapists along the way.
After two weeks in the rehab hospital, I was healthy enough to return home and start my outpatient therapy. I had entered unable to walk independently, and I left walking with a cane. I was able move my arm a few inches side to side, but otherwise it was unable to perform any tasks. However, I knew the recovery process was just beginning, and I was told by many doctors that I could make a full recovery since I was young and healthy. Hanging on to that notion was reason enough to work hard and keep moving forward.
While I was still hospitalized, one of my neurologists highly recommended to my mom that we travel to Duke University to see Dr. Dodds in order to try and find more answers. Even though I was starting to accept the unknown etiology, I wanted to exhaust all options before throwing in the towel. Within days of arriving home, I told my mom to make the call to Duke. Little did I know it would be the best decision I’ve made in a long time.
Three weeks later, I made the trip to Durham with my mom, girlfriend, and brother and met Dr. Dodds. She looked at my images and noticed right away that not only did I have a hemorrhagic stroke, but I had also suffered an ischemic stroke as well. She felt there must be a unifying diagnosis to explain the presence of both hemorrhage and ischemic strokes occurring as part of the same event. We sat down for over an hour going through the weeks leading up to that eventful night. I had been sick a few weeks prior to the stroke, going to the doctor several times for headaches, fever, and a rash on the right side of my body. Dr. Dodds said she wanted to ponder everything for a couple of weeks, talk to some colleagues, and get back to us with more answers.
At 9AM the very next morning the phone rang and it was Dr. Dodds. She said it hit her very early in the morning, and she thought she knew what caused my stroke. “Brett, have you heard of varicella-zoster virus?” With little medical background, I told her I was not aware of it. She went on to explain it’s the shingles virus (which explained my rash), and she thought the virus may have gotten into my spinal fluid, causing the brain bleed and thus, causing my stroke. Varicella-zoster virus can infect the blood vessels of the brain, causing both brain hemorrhages and ischemic strokes. She said there were cases published in the medical literature of patients with this particular problem with MRIs that looked very similar to mine. The only real way to confirm her theory would be through a spinal tap.
Lo and behold, the spinal tap confirmed the unimaginable. The virus was present in my spinal fluid. Who would’ve thought? Shingles virus getting into my spinal fluid and causing a stroke? Of all of the possible diagnoses for a brain bleed, I felt very fortunate that at least mine was treatable. Unlucky to have experienced this in the first place, but fortunate. Since that time, I’ve been on two rounds of antiviral medication and will go in for my third spinal tap in a few weeks. The viral numbers came down on the second tap, and they were getting closer to the ‘negative’ range on that study.
Brett traveled with his family to New York City in December 2017, his first time flying since his stroke. The first travel experience after a stroke is often a milestone for young stroke patients.
After lots of PT and OT, I sit here today typing this story with both hands. I’m able to walk on my own, traveled to New York City last month with my family, and have started working with a therapist on getting back to jogging, playing golf, and hopefully returning to work eventually.
I share all this publicly for one very simple reason – DON’T STOP LOOKING FOR ANSWERS. It would’ve been easy for me to accept the unknown etiology and just move on with my life. However, I needed the answers, if not for myself, for my family, and everyone who spent countless hours by my side helping me through this difficult time.
Although my diagnosis is rare and may not be relevant to all, I encourage any stroke survivor without answers as to what caused his/her stroke to explore all options. Seek a second opinion. Ask if there are case studies published that might relate to your stroke. Don’t stop until you are satisfied. I found my answers, and with the right help and guidance, you might find yours as well.
One of the most meaningful parts of my neurology residency training was learning how to treat patients with carotid and vertebral artery dissections. Not only was I fascinated with the concept that a young person could sneeze or cough and severely injure an important artery as a result of such a benign action, but I was surprised by how frequently we identified dissections, yet they were referred to as “rare.” They did not seem rare to me, but I figured I was biased, given the specialty I had chosen to pursue.
Following my vascular neurology fellowship completion, I then moved to Charlotte, North Carolina, and continued to frequently make this diagnosis in young, healthy individuals. I found that many of them were presenting to the emergency departments in the area with headaches and/or neck pain, and were diagnosed as having migraines or muscular spasms until I would recommend imaging of the arteries in the neck before sending them home. When imaging studies would reveal dissection of a carotid or vertebral artery, there was usually relief from both patients and healthcare providers in identifying a treatable cause for symptoms, and in knowing that we could lower the risk of stroke from that point with the appropriate management. As I saw more dissection patients in the outpatient clinic setting, I learned that many of them continued to suffer with pain, anxiety, migraines, insomnia, fatigue, and difficulty concentrating, to name a few concerns. I heard these concerns voiced from dissection patients who had suffered strokes, and from those who had no evidence of stroke on MRI. I also observed that even patients whose follow up imaging indicated that their arteries were now “healed” they still had lingering symptoms.
Over time, I found that I was having the same conversations and answering the same questions repeatedly when talking to dissection patients and their loved ones. By 2013, I thought: “Someone should compile the questions these patients have in book form and attempt to answer them.” There was no such book available, and it seemed very much worth writing, if the right person would make the time for it.
On January 1, 2016, about six months after I had joined the faculty at Duke University, Amanda Anderson, a speech-language pathologist in Charlotte, a friend, and herself one of my former carotid artery dissection patients, contacted me, telling me she wanted to work on a “project” to distract her from the daily unrelenting pain that had come to define her dissection aftermath. She had already published a workbook series for patients with language impairment (aphasia), and I knew she would be a great collaborator. I decided that since the “right person” had not made time to write the book for patients that I thought needed to be written, then I would have to be that person.
We decided early into the planning process to write much of the book in a question-and-answer format, and that we would make it as comprehensive as possible, but provide explanations that were easy to understand. We also wanted the book to illustrate that carotid and vertebral artery dissection patients are real people with real lives, and found plenty of brave patients from around the country (and even one outside of the US) who were willing to share their stories. We wanted many of the personal stories to be written by the patients themselves in order to provide their perspectives in their own voices.
It has been such a moving, unforgettable journey, and a regular reminder of why I love this patient group so much. Amanda’s relentless enthusiasm and her compassion for her fellow dissection survivors has sustained me during busy times when it was challenging to find time to write.
I sincerely hope that if you or a loved one has experienced a carotid or vertebral artery dissection, this book provides answers to your questions, and perhaps just as important, validation of your experiences.
Those were the chilling words my husband and I heard when I was 29 weeks pregnant with our third child. We were told by the perinatologist that our unborn baby’s brain ventricles were enlarged and she would probably have hydrocephalus, a condition that results when spinal fluid cannot leave the brain and can lead to increased pressure within the skull. He couldn’t tell us much more than that. We prepared for the worst and hoped for the best over the rest of my pregnancy.
Our daughter, Michelle, was born just shy of 36 weeks, and the neurosurgeon was at the delivery to confirm that she did, indeed, have hydrocephalus. Three days later, when the neurosurgeon placed a shunt (a “pump”) in her brain to divert the flow of spinal fluid, he came to us with “good” news. Her hydrocephalus was a result of a brain hemorrhage that she had suffered sometime during my pregnancy. Apparently, a hemorrhagic stroke was a one-time “event,” which meant she didn’t have any other underlying major medical conditions.
Or so we thought.
At three months old, we and the team of doctors following Michelle noticed that she wasn’t using her right arm. The first red flag. Babies should not show a hand preference before one year of age. Michelle was diagnosed with right hemiplegia (weakness on one side), which we later learned was a type of cerebral palsy. Three months later she started weekly occupational and physical therapy, which we were able to continue for over ten years! Our lives consisted of juggling two older children with Michelle’s therapy appointments, a leg surgery, many doctor visits, MRIs, and multiple ankle-foot orthotics as she grew.
This graphic from the American Heart Association/American Stroke Association is part of a public awareness campaign to inform the public that a person is never too young to have a stroke.
We were fortunate that Michelle’s stroke was diagnosed early so she could start therapy at a young age. It was also a blessing that we lived in the Chicago area with an abundance of medical specialists to help Michelle reach her full potential. Through these specialists, I was able to meet other families who also had a child that had suffered a stroke and start a local support group. Knowing that we weren’t alone was a tremendous benefit for us as parents and it allowed the kids to meet others just like them. We were also able to have some of these medical specialists donate their time to come meet with our parents at our local meetings.
Unfortunately, sometimes good things come to an end. When Michelle was ten we moved to the Augusta, Georgia area. Even though I thought I had done my homework and assembled a team of medical specialists for Michelle, we discovered that medical philosophies vary from state to state. Access to specialists and hospitals is also limited in rural, less metropolitan areas. I wasn’t able to meet as many families as I had in Chicago, so support became an online endeavor. Two years later we moved to Charlotte, North Carolina, and again had to start fresh with new doctors and yet another philosophy about treating children experiencing the effects of a stroke. It was also quite a task to integrate Michelle’s educational needs in each of the new schools.
After moving twice in two years I gave up trying to create local support and decided it was time to create a global community with medically-vetted information and resources. That is how International Alliance for Pediatric Stroke was conceived. I have connected with so many families worldwide and have been able to work with pediatric neurologists and incredible advocacy leaders to improve awareness and education. What I have learned over the years is first, there are thousands of children impacted by stroke worldwide and families are eager to connect. Second, the resources and research for this population are lacking. Third, the diagnosis of stroke in babies and children tends to be delayed. Michelle’s “brain abnormality” being discovered before birth is not typical. Often, the diagnosis of stroke in babies is not diagnosed until months or even years after birth. That means these babies are missing rehabilitation opportunities during that valuable time early in life when their brains are rapidly developing.
Mary Kay and Michelle Ballasiotes promote advocacy and raise awareness of the challenges presented by stroke in early childhood.
The consequences for missing the signs of stroke in children can be even more devastating. Stroke is one of the top ten causes of death in children, and unfortunately, I have heard from parents who have shared their heart-wrenching stories of their children not surviving because the signs and symptoms were initially missed. One of my organization’s recent projects was partnering with the American Heart/American Stroke Association to create fact sheets for infant and childhood stroke. The more education and awareness we can provide on pediatric stroke, the better off these children will be.
Michelle is now 19 years old, and she just completed her first year of college. She drives, swims, was in the marching band, played soccer, took ballet, babysits, pet sits, has had multiple part-time jobs, and has been a public speaker for pediatric stroke since she was nine years old. We didn’t know what our baby’s outcome would be when we first heard those devastating words. We still don’t know what caused her stroke, which is the case with most perinatal strokes in children. It has been a learning process to navigate this unchartered path, but I have met incredible, strong families over the journey, and am hopeful for the future of all children impacted by stroke.
Today, Allison Pataki published a moving New York Times blog post about her husband’s stroke at age 30. Pregnant with their first child at the time of the event, she describes continuing to work productively, preparing for a newborn, and instantaneously becoming her husband’s caregiver following this unexpected circumstance that life threw their way. Click here to read her tale.
One of the central missions of The Stroke Blog since it went live in October 2014 has been to provide information to those who have survived a stroke or strokes that occurred at relatively young ages. The very first post, “Deconstructing the Mini-Stroke,” recognized that while there may be symptoms more-or-less universal to some stroke types regardless of a person’s age, that the young stroke population tends to struggle differently through what I call their stroke aftermath.
One problem in the young stroke population is that, while we have a drug (IV t-PA) that can help to minimize the long-term aftermath of ischemic stroke when administered within three to four-and-a-half hours of stroke onset, many young patients do not receive it. A number of my young patients have told me that when their symptoms began, they decided to take a nap or wait it out, either because stroke was not on their radar, or because even if it was, they believed stroke to be a disease of the elderly. Those who do take their symptoms seriously and seek emergent medical attention can be misdiagnosed, because healthcare providers may doubt that a stroke can occur at young ages. For hemorrhagic stroke, early medical attention can result in better outcomes for different reasons. Perhaps an aneurysm has ruptured requiring urgent surgical repair, or a hemorrhagic stroke patient requires emergent blood pressure control. When stroke symptoms develop, regardless of a person’s age, emergent medical attention should be sought. In the United States, this means calling 911 (not driving oneself to the hospital).
According to the Centers for Disease Control, in 2009, almost one-third of stroke hospital admissions in the U.S. were for patients under the age of 65. The Center for Health Statistics estimates that $15.5 billion was lost in productivity in the U.S. in 2008 as a result of stroke patients having to leave the workforce. When stroke strikes a young adult, it costs these individuals personally on many fronts, but it also takes its financial toll at a national level.
This is a public health problem. I want young people to know that when sudden paralysis develops in an arm or a leg, the right thing to do is to get to a hospital as quickly as possible in hopes that t-PA treatment may be a possibility. For severe strokes resulting in large artery occlusions, or “blockages,” we now have very compelling clinical trial data telling us that using a catheter to remove the blood clot is very beneficial in some patients, but only when the stroke is treated early. A delay of even a few hours may make the difference between being dependent on others for care, or returning to independence.
I challenge you to raise awareness about this problem. I challenge you to find a red pair of shoes in your closet, or purchase an inexpensive pair
Wearing my red shoes at the International Stroke Conference about 20 minutes before this blog post! #redshoes4youngstroke
of red shoes, or if this is too much of a financial burden, to spray-paint an old pair of shoes red. Wear them proudly. The more they stand out, the better. If you are asked about them, use the opportunity to share with the questioner that a person is never too young to have a stroke. If you have a personal story to share, I challenge you to be bold enough to share it. If you are hesitant about sharing it, then communicate to others that stroke is not a disease only affecting the elderly.
Take a picture of your feet in these shoes, and post it to social media – to Facebook, Twitter, whatever. Include the hashtag #redshoes4youngstroke when you post it. Tag others in your posts whom you feel will care about this cause and participate. If you have the financial means to do so, consider making a donation to the American Stroke Association, National Stroke Association, Young Stroke, or another not-for-profit organization you feel has been supportive of the young stroke population. I will watch for interesting red shoe pictures with the #redshoes4youngstroke hashtag to come along, and will repost some of them with permission on The Stroke Blog.
Moments before hitting “publish” for this post – hoping to bring more awareness around the plight of young stroke patients.
I’ll start. While purchasing a pair of boots for the winter online in January of this year, amazon.com recommended these shoes to me. I thought this was bizarre, as they looked nothing like the boots I had just purchased, but then it seemed almost fated. Somehow amazon.com knew me better than I knew myself, and realized that I would want these there’s-no-place-like-home shoes. Indeed I did, because I instantly decided to call them my “stroke awareness shoes.”
I wore them a few times earlier this month while caring for patients in the hospital to see how people would react, and I received multiple comments each day from patient family members, people in elevators, other parents when I picked my son up from basketball practice. I practiced giving my 20 second spiel about a person never being too young to have a stroke, and it resulted in a number of engaging conversations. Some people even said they would join me in wearing red shoes to raise stroke awareness!
I also want to thank the neurology residents at Duke University, who are not only fantastic physicians, but who have been my sounding board as I have contemplated this. They have been full of great ideas!
I am currently attending the American Heart Association/American Stroke Association’s International Stroke Conference, and am wearing my red shoes. I am encouraged at the response I have gotten over the course of the morning, and feel certain this can extend beyond those who care for stroke patients.
With greater awareness comes greater funding for research, greater compassion for the plight of a group of survivors, and greater understanding of an issue that exists in our society. Let’s wear our red shoes!
Due to the number of readers of The Stroke Blog who have identified themselves as having experienced carotid or vertebral artery dissections with or without stroke, I believe a clinical trial from the United Kingdom is very much worth sharing here.
The Cervical Artery Dissection in Stroke Study (CADISS – Markus HS, et al) set out to answer a question that has existed for many decades in the world of stroke management. When a dissection (a tear in the innermost tissue layer of an artery) of a carotid artery or vertebral artery (arteries in the neck that bring blood to the brain), how is a stroke best prevented going forward? In patients who have already had a stroke at the time the dissection is diagnosed, the goal is certainly to prevent further strokes from occurring. If a patient has not already sustained a stroke, then sparing that person a permanent brain injury is the top priority. It has not been entirely clear how to achieve these goals though. Should a patient be treated with antiplatelet agents (medications impairing platelet function), such as aspirin, clopidogrel (Plavix), another antiplatelet agent, or some combination of these? Or should a patient be treated with anticoagulation, a drug that actively prevents clotting, such as warfarin (Coumadin) or heparin?
I have heard many arguments on all sides. Some neurologists say that antiplatelet therapy is just as effective as warfarin but carries a lower risk of hemorrhage. Others say that antiplatelet therapy is not aggressive enough and anticoagulation with warfarin or heparin (or both) should be used. Some say to start on antiplatelet therapy or anticoagulation and if symptoms get worse to switch to whatever therapy was not initially used. Others argue for placing a stent in the dissected artery. Until recently, there was no clinical trial actually comparing antiplatelet therapy to anticoagulation in patients with carotid artery or vertebral artery dissection, and the medicine selected for treatment was based entirely on anecdotes and the bias of the treating physician.
In the CADISS trial, patients presenting to one of the participating medical centers in the United Kingdom who were diagnosed with carotid or vertebral artery dissection (with or without stroke) believed to have occurred within the seven days prior to presentation were randomized. Half of the patients were started on antiplatelet therapy, and half were placed on anticoagulation. The duration of treatment was three months. The endpoint was to determine how many strokes or deaths occurred in each group. Whether or not the patient had already had a stroke before enrolling in the trial, the endpoint was to see, once antiplatelet therapy or anticoagulation was started, how many patients went on to have strokes despite that therapy.
The CADISS trial, published in Lancet Neurology in April 2015, did not find a statistically significant difference in stroke prevention in patients presenting with acute carotid or vertebral artery dissections when treated with either antiplatelet therapy or anticoagulation.
Two hundred fifty patients were enrolled (118 carotid artery dissections and 132 vertebral artery dissections). Interestingly, 52 of these patients were not found to have carotid or vertebral artery dissections when their radiology studies were carefully reviewed as part of the study, despite initially receiving that diagnosis. Of the 198 patients remaining, there was no significant difference in strokes between the two groups. There was one episode of symptomatic bleeding in the anticoagulation group (subarachnoid hemorrhage, or bleeding in the brain that occurs when an artery in the brain ruptures). There were no deaths in either group. Of the 198 patients with radiological evidence of dissection confirmed, there were only four total strokes following initiation of the designated medical therapy in both groups combined.
The CADISS trial began as a feasibility study – a trial to see if it was even feasible to enroll enough patients with a condition not diagnosed with frequency in the emergency department. This phase of the study was statistically sound and convincing enough not to proceed with a larger trial.
A trial comparing stenting to medication alone has not been performed, and given the low number of strokes in patients on medical therapy in the CADISS trial, it is unlikely that a dissection stenting trial will be performed any time in the near future.
For more details about arteries bringing blood to the brain and about carotid and vertebral artery dissection, please refer to a prior post on The Stroke Blog by clicking here.
The take-away points from CADISS are as follows:
The overwhelming majority of patients with carotid and vertebral artery dissection, if started on either antiplatelet therapy or anticoagulation soon after the dissection has occurred, will not go on to have a stroke while on therapy during the aftermath following the vascular injury.
There is no significant difference in stroke prevention in patients with carotid and vertebral artery dissection between those using antiplatelet medications and those using anticoagulation.
The trial does not address the myriad symptoms many dissection patients notice lingering after the injury – migraines, neck pain, and anxiety, to name a few. One trial cannot address every possible issue associated with a medical condition. However, physicians who care for young stroke patients with this particular vascular injury should be celebrating the fact that we finally have evidence-based guidance for preventing stroke in these patients.
The traditional teaching about the role of the cerebellum has typically been that it coordinates movements and “fine tunes” them. It provides balance when walking, and stability of a hand when reaching for a glass of water. When the cerebellum sustains an injury or is malfunctioning, then the result may be gait disturbance, falls, dizziness, or tremor.
The cerebellum is featured in red in this image. Image credit: http://www.brainhealthandpuzzles.com
The ideas above are what I learned in high school biology, in anatomy, and in physiology. Even throughout my neurology residency training, I largely thought of the cerebellum as a structure that provided balance and fine tuned movement.
It has interested me during my time in clinical practice to witness the fallout from cerebellar stroke, particularly in the younger stroke population, because it is often far beyond balance and movement. Yes, the symptoms mentioned above are often present in some form when the cerebellar stroke occurs, perhaps along with a headache and/or nausea. However, the patients who struggle with recovery for months or years following a cerebellar stroke often complain of symptoms that do not fit with the traditional concepts of what the cerebellum is supposed to be doing.
Some of the complaints I have heard from numerous cerebellar stroke patients are as follows:
– Many struggle with the same cognitive symptoms that patients with strokes injuring the frontal or parietal lobes experience, such as difficulty with focus and multitasking, and because of this, they complain of difficulty with short term memory retention.
– Other cognitive symptoms may exist as well, such as feeling overstimulated, or having difficulty following a conversation in a group of people.
– Difficulty with language fluency (aphasia) has afflicted cerebellar stroke patients in my own experience, and their frustration after being denied disability benefits is palpable.
– Some cerebellar stroke patients express that they are unable to dream any longer, or that when they close their eyes to picture a scene – being at the beach on a breezy day, or running through a field of grass and flowers – they are unable to mentally visualize such a thing.
– Sometimes their significant others claim these patients have demonstrated changes in their moods or personalities, and that their relationships seem different since their strokes.
MR images of Jonathan Keleher’s brain (A and B). The black diamond-shaped void in images A and B reveals Mr. Keleher’s missing cerebellum. The images on the right demonstrate the presence of a cerebellum in the space in a normally developed brain. Photo credit: Massachusetts General Hospital, courtesy of Jeremy Schmahmann for use on NPR.org
Last month, as I was driving home from work one evening, I heard this segment on National Public Radio’s All Things Considered, and I thought – yes! I have to share this on The Stroke Blog with readers! This piece summarizes the complexities of the cerebellum so well for the public, and I hope those of you who read this will take a few minutes to listen to the segment if cerebellar injury is of interest.
The piece features Jonathan Keleher, a 33 year old man who was born without a cerebellum. In the segment, it is explained that Mr. Keleher struggles with emotional complexity, language, and other cognitive tasks beyond imbalance and impaired motor skills. However, because he received intensive physical and speech therapy at a young age while lacking a diagnosis, he was able to demonstrate the wonder of neuronal plasticity – the ability to utilize other parts of the brain to accomplish tasks normally dependent on the cerebellum. He walks independently, and he works in an office environment. He lives independently.
We like to believe that each function is neatly packaged within a certain compartment of the brain. Patients often ask: “If my stroke was here [pointing to a specific part of the brain], then what problems should I expect to have?” While some structures in the brain correlate more or less with certain functions, it really is not that simple, as evidenced by the complexity of the cerebellum, and by what a young man who lacks one has been able to accomplish in its absence. The brain is a large community of cells, an interdependent network that makes us who we are, and which enables us to survive from one second to the next.
Update on November 14, 2017:
When I published the above blog post on cerebellar stroke in 2015, I never dreamed that it would become the most frequently visited page on The Stroke Blog day after day. The comments readers have posted in response to it, and the emails I have received from patients and their loved ones, have underscored the need for more resources about cerebellar stroke. I have heard you, and am working currently to create such a resource beyond a blog post. Stay tuned.
I have also received many emails from patients who have been diagnosed as having vertebral artery dissections believed to have caused their cerebellar strokes. Until recently, there was no largely comprehensive resource for patients struggling through the aftermath of vertebral dissection, but a few months ago, my speech language pathologist colleague, Amanda Anderson, and I published a book for vertebral and carotid artery dissection survivors (click here for more information) and their families in hopes that it would provide badly-needed answers to lingering questions. If you are a vertebral artery dissection survivor, I sincerely hope you find the book useful, and that it at least somewhat helps to validate your “new normal.”
Cerebellar stroke can be more difficult to accurately diagnose because the symptoms frequently don’t scream “Stroke!” the way that weakness on one side of the body or a facial droop may. I have seen cerebellar stroke patients in the acute setting diagnosed with migraine, benign forms of vertigo, intoxication, and substance abuse. When diagnosed early, situations leading to cerebellar stroke can be successfully treated with better outcomes for patients. Awareness of cerebellar stroke in both the community and amongst medical providers is critical for earlier diagnosis and more optimal management.
It occurs at least every other week in my own clinical experience. A patient has experienced an ischemic stroke, and after a workup that fails to show significant atherosclerosis (“hardening of the arteries,” “plaque build-up”) in the arteries leading to the part of the brain injured by the stroke, and without obvious risk factors that could have resulted in stroke, an echocardiogram identifies the presence of a patent foramen ovale (PFO). Often patients are told a PFO is a “hole in the heart,” allowing clots to reach the brain that would otherwise end up in the lungs as their final destination. I see in their notes: “Stroke caused by PFO.” Some patients arrive to the appointment, already having determined they want their PFOs closed, and others have already concluded just the opposite – no “heart surgery.” The majority feel lost and are seeking answers. What is a PFO, and what is the significance of it?
The purpose of this post is outlined in the title – to remove some of the mystery from the PFO, although its potential effects and clinical associations with it are, indeed, still mysterious.
In the fetal heart prior to birth, blood enters the right atrium (A). Some of this blood circulates through an opening called the foramen ovale (yellow arrow in image), and into the left atrium (B), bypassing the lungs. When the foramen ovale fails to close, it becomes known as a patent foramen ovale, or PFO. Image source: http://vhlab.umn.edu
A foramen ovale (“FO” – if you will) is a very normal part of a fetus’s heart. When we are fetuses, prior to taking our first breaths as our developing lungs remain collapsed, blood bypasses the lungs and receives oxygen from the placenta. As blood enters the right atrium of the heart, it can bypass the lungs by traveling through the foramen ovale, an opening connecting the right and left sides of the heart. After reaching the left side of the heart, blood can then proceed to travel through the left atrium, then the left ventricle, and finally exiting the heart through the aorta. Other features of fetal circulation exist to enable blood to more efficiently reach the placenta, such as the ductus arteriosis, which allows blood to stream from the pulmonary artery directly to the aorta rather than first having to visit the lungs.
A “FO” becomes a “PFO” (“patent” merely means “open”) when that opening between the right and left sides of the heart fails to close completely.
A PFO is not a congenital heart defect. This is an important piece of information for stroke patients found to have a PFO to understand. Many of them arrive at their appointment, believing there is something wrong with their hearts. It is a normal part of fetal circulation to have a foramen ovale.
PFOs are common. Population studies indicate that 20-25% of people have a PFO, and the overwhelming majority of them will never experience a stroke related to this opening between the right and left atria in the heart. However, when younger people with cryptogenic ischemic stroke (stroke without an identifiable cause) are screened for PFOs, one is found in about 40% of patients being evaluated. This finding has been confirmed in multiple studies.
Screening for PFOs. Typically, a PFO is identified on an echocardiogram, which is an ultrasound study of the heart. Sometimes if there is significant blood flow through the PFO this can be identified on a standard echocardiogram. However, much of the time this is found after a bubble study, or agitated saline injection is performed. The patient has an IV in place in the antecubital region (between the arm and forearm, in the arm opposite the elbow). A small amount of air is mixed vigorously with saline to create numerous small bubbles and then this is injected through the patient’s IV. If a patient does not have a PFO, the bubbles will be visualized under ultrasound as entering the right atrium of the heart, but do not enter the left atrium because they have traveled to the lungs, which filter them. However, if a PFO is present, in many cases bubbles will be visualized entering the left atrium. Typically two injections are performed: one at rest, and one following the Valsalva maneuver, which involves bearing down/straining, as if lifting a heavy load or having a bowel movement. This maneuver increases return of blood to the right atrium, and a PFO that may not be significantly shunting blood to the left atrium at rest may suddenly enlarge when increased filling takes place in the right atrium, so the bubble test may be more dramatic.
There are limitations though. Breast tissue, obesity, and other factors may limit the viewing capabilities through the chest wall to detect bubbles in the left atrium. Sometimes, for no obvious reason, the study is just not of the quality needed to determine if a PFO is present. A transesophageal echocardiogram involves sedating a patient and inserting the ultrasound proble down the patient’s esophagus for a different view of the heart. This is thought to be a more sensitive study. The limitation to this test is that a sedated patient typically cannot be engaged in the procedure to voluntarily perform the Valsalva maneuver, so a PFO that is only a significant presence during such a maneuver may be missed.
This image compares three transcranial Doppler studies in patients with positive bubble studies for PFOs. The top image is from a patient with a PFO that is likely very small and which only allows a small degree of shunting from the right to left atrium. Each red vertical line represents a microbubble that has crossed to the left atrium and been detected in the brain during the test. The strip in the middle is from a patient with a moderate amount of shunting – more red lines/microemboli detected, but each one is still discernible from those around it. The bottom strip demonstrates the “shower effect.” The PFO is large and there is so much shunting that the microemboli are too numerous to count. Image source: http://www.revespcardiol.org
Transcranial Doppler is a study using ultrasound that measures blood flow within the major arteries of the brain. The same bubble study described above during an echocardiogram can be performed while blood flow is monitored in the middle cerebral arteries of the brain, and the detection of microemboli (small “blips” heard during monitoring) following the injection indicates that some form of passage from right-sided circulation to left-sided circulation is taking place. The limitation here is that pulmonary shunts, or vessels carrying blood directly from arterial to venous circulation within a lung, can also give a positive bubble test since transcranial Doppler does not involve the direct visualization of bubbles. However, signals are detected later than expected if the shunting is occurring in the lungs (more cardiac cycles following the injection than the timing of when signals from bubbles crossing through a PFO would be heard).
Transcranial Doppler is sensitive in detecting a PFO, and if consistent with this should be followed up with an echocardiogram, if not already performed.
If a PFO is detected, what then? This can be a challenging question to answer, in part because it is impossible to prove whether the PFO actually played a role in the stroke, or if another factor was at play and the PFO is just receiving the blame unnecessarily.
The question of whether to continue a stroke patient with a PFO and without another obvious cause of stroke on medical therapy or to close the PFO has been tested in at least two randomized clinical trials – CLOSURE I and RESPECT.
The CLOSURE I trial failed to show a significant benefit to PFO closure over medical therapy. However, CLOSURE I enrolled patients with either evidence of stroke on brain imaging or patients with “TIA.” The reason I place the term TIA in quotes is because more than half of the consults I see for diagnosis of “TIA” do not turn out to be actual TIAs, but migraines, seizures, or other conditions that mimick TIAs. The point here is that many neurologists argued that the validity of CLOSURE I results was negatively impacted by potentially enrolling patients into the trial with PFOs who had not actually had a vascular event, and that this may have skewed the data.
The RESPECT trial randomized young patients with PFOs and who sustained strokes without a known origin to either receive “best medical therapy” or to undergo PFO closure in addition to remaining on “best medical therapy.” There was no significant difference in stroke outcomes between the two groups, but may have been some benefit in patients with large PFOs or with aneurysmal atrial septum.
RESPECT was a trial randomizing only relatively young stroke patients with PFOs (no TIAs were included – there had to be evidence of stroke on the patient’s neuroimaging) who lacked another apparent source for the stroke to either PFO closure plus medical therapy, or medical therapy alone for stroke prevention. The overall trial failed to show benefit to PFO closure over medical therapy alone. However, in a secondary analysis, patients who had large PFOs or who had a finding known as an atrial septal aneurysm (very mobile wall separating the two halves of the heart) did show more potential benefit for stroke prevention from PFO closure and medical therapy than from medical therapy alone.
What is medical therapy? Medical therapy refers to any non-invasive therapy measures taken, in this case – to reduce the risk of another stroke. For patients with small PFOs and no history of stroke, this usually meant aspirin daily. For patients with atrial septal aneurysm, there is some data suggesting a relatively high risk of stroke recurrence on aspirin, but that anticoagulation may be more beneficial. I have found that the type of “best medical therapy” recommended to a patient often plays a role in his or her decision regarding PFO closure. Patients are often more willing to take aspirin daily over undergoing PFO closure, but many young patients are not thrilled with the idea of anticoagulation and the risks it carries over the long term.
It is mostly performed now via catheterization with an implanted device sealing the opening between the right and left atria. The procedure typically lasts less than one hour from start to finish, and patients usually go home from the hospital the following day. At some hospitals, they may even return home on the same day. There are potential complications to a PFO closure, including bleeding, infection, and the potential for atrial fibrillation, an irregular cardiac rhythm that can generate clots and result in stroke. Based on data from RESPECT, the incidence of atrial fibrillation did not differ significantly between the PFO closure group and the medical therapy alone group.
Following the publication of RESPECT trial results, PFO closure remains a topic of controversy in the field of stroke prevention and is still heavily debated.
I will keep today’s post brief, but wanted to relay mistakes that young stroke patients frequently make in hopes that they will not perpetuate. Yesterday I saw a young stroke patient who decided to rest when symptoms began, so it is worth reiterating errors made and why these actions should be avoided.
Taking a nap/lying down when stroke symptoms begin. Remember, an ischemic stroke patient is only eligible for IV t-PA (the “clot busing” medicine) for 3-4.5 hours after a stroke begins, and with each passing minute that the brain does not receive blood flow, approximately two million cells will perish. When a stroke patient awakens from a nap, it is often too late to intervene. Call 911.
Driving himself/herself to the hospital. This is a terrible mistake for many reasons. A stroke patient is more likely to be involved in a motor vehicle collision if trying to drive while the brain is not receiving adequate blood flow/oxygen. Vision and cognition may be impaired. There could be delays in care with traffic on the road. Instead of being brought directly back to be evaluated by the emergency medicine physician, a patient may incorrectly be asked to wait in the triage area if not arriving by ambulance, which creates further delays. Do not drive to the hospital if you may be having a stroke.
Taking aspirin at home. Remember that 20% of all stroke are hemorrhagic, or “bleeding strokes.” Aspirin may worsen bleeding, and no one will know whether a stroke is ischemic (due to a blood clot blocking blood flow to the brain) or hemorrhagic until a head CT scan or MRI can be performed to visualize the brain.
I had the privilege of providing a basic overview about stroke on May 1, 2014 on a local news show in Charlotte, NC to start Stroke Awareness Month this year. If you are interested in viewing this, click here. Remember the FAST mnemonic for identifying stroke early so we can work to prevent disability from stroke.
Face – Is a facial droop present on one side?
Arm – If both arms are extended, and one drifts down due to weakness, this could be a stroke until proven otherwise
Speech – Is there slurred speech? Is there difficulty finding the words with which to communicate?
Time – Time is critical, as stated in the above points. Call 911.
As a follow up to last week’s post about head CT scans failing to demonstrate evidence of ischemic stroke in certain situations (early stroke, strokes of small sizes, strokes in the brainstem or cerebellum), I wanted to share several cases illustrating the truth behind the assertion.
The head CT image on the right was obtained from a young woman who was 31 years old at the time of her stroke. She presented to an outside emergency department at a small hospital with numbness and jerking movements of her left arm. Her blood pressure was high, and she was discharged home with a diagnosis of hypertension. Her head CT scan was normal at that time. Shortly after arriving home, she developed prominent left-sided weakness, returned to the ER, and then was diagnosed with an early ischemic stroke. The patient’s right cerebral hemisphere (which is on the left side on our view – the patient is facing us on this CT image, so what we see as the left side is actually the patient’s right side) appears darker than in the left hemisphere. This is because edema (swelling) and ischemic injury have occurred in the brain. Several years later, she has reduced use of her left hand and struggles with anxiety. She and her husband have been a source of great inspiration to me as I have had the privilege of observing them persevere through her challenges.
The MRI to the left belongs to a woman who presented to an ER with isolated leg weakness, and a stroke was “ruled out” with a normal head CT scan. She returned home, and later returned when her symptom worsened. Her brain MRI demonstrates acute cerebral ischemia (injury emerging from lack of blood flow) in the territory of the right anterior cerebral artery (the white arrow tip indicates the location of the stroke). See my previous post, A Tale of Two Carotid Artery Dissections, and the Miracle of the Circle of Willis, for a tutorial on the major arteries bringing blood to the brain.
For all of the frustration that I hear from patients about strokes that have been missed on CT scans, though, I feel that it is necessary to celebrate when a not-so-obvious stroke is diagnosed early enough for what it actually is, and the patient is able to receive the appropriate therapy for the best shot at a positive outcome. It does actually happen, and I tell the following story to offer hope. Sometimes things run as they should on the front lines of medicine, and it is quite refreshing when things go right!
A woman suddenly became very dizzy and had difficulty speaking clearly. The alignment of her eyes became skewed, and she was unable to focus on a single target. Following this, she became confused and disoriented, and was unable to move her right side. Her symptoms were fluctuating, and those around her could not figure out in that moment exactly what was occurring. She was brought to a local hospital, and the ER physician, concerned for possible stroke, called the on call neurologist. The patient had the head CT scan to the right, which was interpreted as normal by the radiologist (and which I agree is unremarkable). The patient received IV t-PA immediately after the CT scan was able to exclude this as a hemorrhagic stroke, on the assumption that the patient was in the midst of an early ischemic stroke.
On the following morning, the patient’s right-sided weakness had completed resolved, her speech was clear, and her thinking and reasoning had returned to normal. The only symptom that remained were some visual abnormalities. At this point, that has improved as well.
Her brain MRI (on the left) that was performed the following day revealed that she had, indeed, sustained an ischemic stroke. Fortunately, she was able to receive IV t-PA early enough to minimize the damage. Thank goodness the emergency medicine physician did not “rule out” stroke with her normal head CT scan. On the following night, the same emergency medicine physician was working and called about a different neurological patient. During the discussion, feedback was provided to him about how the previous night’s patient had improved, and how the MRI did confirm the presence of ischemic stroke. His response was: “It always feels good to know that you’ve made the right decision.” Yes, it certainly does.
It happens multiple times each week. A patient arrives for a consultation, bringing outside medical records from the emergency department where his or her initial evaluation took place. Inevitably I will find the above statement, or some slight variation of it, stated in the notes, as if serving as a justification for why it was okay to send the patient home. Often the patient wonders why he developed partial visual loss for 30 minutes, or why the left side of her body was tingling for hours even prior to the decision to seek medical attention. After all, the symptoms seemed real at the time, but how to explain what happened since the head CT ruled out a stroke?
From my own experience caring for young stroke patients, I hear the same themes reiterated:
“Everyone tells me that I don’t look like I’ve had a stroke, but I have never felt like the same person since my stroke.”
“I have so much difficulty focusing and concentrating since my stroke, and I’m worried about my short term memory.”
“I was told that I shouldn’t still be experiencing pain now that my vertebral artery dissection has healed, but my headaches are still awful.”
I could list at least 20 bulleted themes commonly heard when talking with young stroke patients, but perhaps the most common one that I hear is: “The first time I went to the ER, I was sent home.”
There are, of course, significant concerns about a young stroke patient seeking medical attention in the ER with stroke-like symptoms, and then being discharged home. The most critical reason to identify early ischemic stroke symptoms in a patient of any age is to take advantage of the only FDA-approved medication in the treatment of acute ischemic stroke – IV t-PA. As mentioned in a previous post, t-PA is a “clot-busting” medication. When a clot blocks blood from flowing in an artery, the administration of t-PA can dissolve the clot, relieving the obstruction and allowing blood to start flowing again. In acute stroke, every minute that passes equates to the deathof approximately 1.5 to 2 million neurons (cells in the brain or spinal cord).
With each passing minute that blood is not flowing to part of the brain, the likelihood of a good functional recovery decreases. In addition to the decreasing benefit of t-PA with the passage of time during those first hours of an ischemic stroke, the risk of cerebral hemorrhage from giving t-PA increases. As tissue in the brain sustains injury from this lack of blood flow, the tissue becomes “leaky” and starts swelling, and giving a clot-busting medication like t-PA to a patient with brain tissue that has already died raises the risk that the drug could cause a brain hemorrhage.
This graph appeared in the paper that outlined the results of a stroke clinical trial known as the ECASS 3 study. ECASS 3 was a trial that demonstrated that some patients benefitted in terms of functional recovery from receiving t-PA out to four and a half hours after the start of their stroke symptoms. Prior to this trial, the “window” for giving t-PA to an ischemic stroke patient was three hours after stroke symptoms began. The FDA in the United States has not approved t-PA for use beyond three hours into an ischemic stroke, although in other parts of the world t-PA has been approved for up to 4.5 hours based on this data. I include the graph from that paper to demonstrate that minutes do count. The higher the solid line is on the graph, the better the likelihood of a good functional outcome without significant disability after a stroke. As time passes on the x-axis (numbers on the x-axis represent the number of minutes that have passed since a stroke began), one can see the line trending down, indicating smaller chances of seeing a good outcome. Once the line crosses at 1.0, this is the time point at which is becomes more dangerous to give t-PA because the risk of bleeding is no longer outweighed by the benefit. At this point, for the majority of patients, brain tissue has died, and there is no more benefit to be gained.
When the assumption is made that a patient with stroke-like symptoms is not having a stroke, a CT scan of the head is usually obtained to confirm this assumption. This is flawed reasoning though. The sensitivity of a CT scan without contrast within the first 12-24 hours of an ischemic stroke is around 65%. This means that 35% of patients presenting 12-24 hours after a stroke has started will have essentially normal head CT scans. Now, consider patients who are within the time window for consideration for t-PA. The sensitivity of a head CT scan during the first three to four and a half hours of a stroke is even lower.
A head CT scan is a very good tool for diagnosing bleeding that occurs in the brain, and this is the reason why patients presenting with stroke symptoms are supposed to have a CT scan – to look for blood. The purpose of a CT scan should not be to diagnose an ischemic stroke. The likelihood of detecting hemorrhage in the brain is around 90-95% with a CT scan. Since 20% of strokes are of the hemorrhagic type, but it is impossible to determine based on a patient’s symptoms alone whether a stroke is ischemic (due to a blood clot blocking blood flow) or hemorrhagic, a CT scan clarifies the stroke type.
When I am seeing an acute stroke patient in the ER, I expect to see one of three things on the head CT: 1) evidence of bleeding (hemorrhagic stroke), 2) evidence of ischemic stroke (which means swelling and cell death has already occurred), or 3) a normal head CT scan. It is the patient with the normal head CT scan who should receive t-PA, because this is the patient who is very early into an ischemic stroke. An early stroke can be a treatable stroke, but if a patient is sent home on the assumption that a normal CT scan “ruled out” a stroke, then the only evidence-supported medical therapy for treatment has been denied to that person.
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