Portrait: Georgina
I frequently complained about intense pain behind one of my eyes, which I assumed was a migraine. This pain often left me violently sick throughout the day, but the common advice I received was simply to have a can of Coke to ease the discomfort.
By this time, I had become a regular at the doctor’s office, having been referred to an optician, and experiencing multiple changes to my contraception. All of this seemed to be part and parcel of being cabin crew and living with the effects of fluctuating air pressure.
Life in the Skies: A Flight That Grounded My World
As cabin crew, jetting off to far-flung destinations was the norm. My last flight from Barbados in October 2021, however, was different. Unbeknownst to me at the time, it would be my final journey in the sky.
The brain bleed symptoms I experienced
Looking back, it’s clear I was unaware of the serious health issue looming ahead.
As a fit and healthy 27-year-old traveling the world for work, I never imagined I would face such a challenge.
I frequently complained about intense pain behind one of my eyes, which I assumed was a migraine. This pain often left me violently sick throughout the day, but the common advice I received was simply to have a can of Coke to ease the discomfort.
By this time, I had become a regular at the doctor’s office, having been referred to an optician, and experiencing multiple changes to my contraception. All of this seemed to be part and parcel of being cabin crew and living with the effects of fluctuating air pressure.
Waking up from a coma
After being furloughed from flying, I was working full-time in London at a motorbike membership club and loving life. It was hard to pull myself away when the time came to get back in the air. Three months later, I was called for a flight to Barbados, and it was incredible—I didn’t realize how much I had missed it.
However, upon returning to the UK, I began to feel an unusual discomfort that prompted me to stand down from my next flight to Crete. While I was having a quiet day on the sofa, the doorbell rang. As I stood up, I felt a strange sensation, like a packet of crisps popping in my head. Suddenly, I experienced stroke-like symptoms and struggled to hold onto my phone. In that moment, I called an ambulance.
Losing the ability to walk, I managed to drag myself out of my flat and shout for help, knowing I needed to stay awake until the ambulance arrived. When they finally got there, I vaguely remember them asking me to lift my arms. Unable to do so, I lost consciousness.
Waking up six weeks later from an induced coma, I was completely unaware of what had happened. I didn't recognize the loved ones around me and had no idea where I was.
During my time in a coma, it had been my sister’s birthday. The first thing I wanted to say upon waking was, “I can’t wait for your birthday.” However, I was quickly told about my situation. Still confused and struggling to comprehend the information, it faded from my mind just moments later, along with many other details.
As time passed, my confusion deepened. I couldn’t walk, yet I kept forgetting this reality, leading me to pull myself out of bed and accidentally crack my head open. Those weeks were filled with disorientation and uncertainty.
What my recovery looked like
Recovery has been an unusual journey for me. Remarkably, I never felt angry or asked, “Why me?” Going from an independent, active young woman to someone unable to walk, talk, or remember anything was a profound shift. I also faced strabismus, which caused double vision, but I was determined to regain my sense of “normal.”
I was moved to a rehabilitation center in Leicester, closer to my family, where I spent ten minutes in the “gym” practicing stepping over a line. It felt relentless, but it was absolutely necessary. After months of hard work, I was finally allowed to go home.
I was sent home with a frame, and I was told that if I was lucky, I’d only need it for five years. As soon as we arrived home, I declared that the zimmer frame was not coming into the house.
It may have taken me two hours to walk a small distance down the driveway, but that was the start of a monumental journey!
How I’m doing now
This month marks three years since my journey began. After countless hours of physical and mental work, eye surgery, additional brain surgery, and a staggering number of angiograms, I’m proud to say I’m back living independently in London. I now work as an events manager at the motorbike club where it all started, surrounded by the most amazing and understanding people.
Recently, I ran a half marathon to support a brain injury charity, where I also serve as a young ambassador. In a surprising twist, an episode of First Dates featuring me just aired, where I talked about my experiences. It’s safe to say that dating hasn’t been easy as I navigate the complexities of discovering the "new me."
Advice I’d give to other brain injury survivors
For me, maintaining a positive mental attitude has been crucial. Never ask, “Why me?”—it only deepens the hole you’re trying to escape. Instead, leave it to the professionals; trust that they know what they’re doing!
Don’t let worry consume you! In situations like this, your schedule will be packed with appointments, and the anxiety leading up to them only doubles your stress. I can guarantee you’ll find yourself worrying again when the time comes.
Lastly, approach everything with a “so what” mindset. If the outcome or answer isn’t that bad or is beyond your control, let it go!