Portrait: Ruth
My name is Ruth, I’m 55, and I suffered two ruptured aneurysms: one in 2005 and another in 2012.
The first one was treated with a neurosurgical clip; honestly, it wasn't too bad. I was around an hour away from home in the hospital, but my oldest friend came to see me on the bus with her two kids every single day. My brother also came to visit me at the weekends. I was home within a month but remember being terrified to be left on my own.

Where Ruth’s story begins
I was a veterinary nurse for about ten years, and I loved that job. After my first ruptured aneurysm,I had about two months off work, and I wasn't that badly affected. But when I went back, I realized I’d completely lost my patience for the job. Despite this, because I'd loved it so much before my aneurysm, I stayed for about a year, thinking my passion would come back. It just never did. I decided to move to an administrative position.
Moving jobs and experiencing a second aneurysm
I got myself an admin job, which was fine until 2012 when I had another ruptured aneurysm. I was in the hospital—over 80 miles from home—for quite some time over the Christmas period. My brother drove up often to see me. It was a whole month before I had a shunt fitted, but I don't remember anything prior to this. The surgical site also became infected, so they had to take out part of my skull, to clear out the infection, so I had a dent in my skull. I never had anything put back in as I was concerned that it would become infected and that I'd end up with a bigger hole. So, I grew a fringe—to this day, no one notices it.
As I was in pretty good shape after my aneurysms, there was very little support given to me once I was discharged from hospital, on both occasions.
It became apparent very early on that my memory had deteriorated. I went back to the hospital to see a psychotherapist who told me my recall had gone. Someone could tell me something, and five minutes later I'd forgotten what was said. That meant I had to work hard at remembering everything. I had to adjust how I went about things, like take notes, record things, do one thing at a time and not overload myself. Now I'm like a post-it notes Queen!
Getting support from my workplace
I work for a big corporate company, and they did really look after me; Somebody came to see me every day, even though it’s quite a small team. It was a good six months before I went back to work. I had a supervisor role in the team and felt I had to step down. My employer agreed to that. Later on, the HR team decided we needed a manager in that role so they promoted somebody within the team, and of course that came with some issues because I looked perfectly normal, I could function, and nobody knew what I had gone through when they looked at me.
Experiencing burnout
Somebody went off to have an operation and was going to be out of work for a few months, but they didn't hire for a temporary position to replace them. We just delegated the workload between us. I hit a wall and was so mentally exhausted. Then COVID happened and the workload just went up and up. Since then, most people have moved on—and there's only two or three people in the team who actually remember what happened to me. I keep saying that if you overload me, I’ll fall over. That's what happens. It’s quite difficult;every time a line manager changes, the same issues come up. It's quite exhausting, to be honest. I’ve been here 20 years. I am the person who knows everything, and a lot of the team come to me for help. I think I'm probably going to have to leave this year because I just can't keep up with the expectation of the workload.
Facing challenges
These days, I've learned what I can and can't manage. But because I look and seem perfectly normal, people think I’m lazy when I say ‘Sorry I can’t manage that’ or they think I’m trying to dictate things.
I’ve never had to say, ‘Sorry I have a brain injury’ so much as I have in the last few years. I truly know the meaning of a hidden disability.
I’m also slightly numb down my left side, which, if you can't see it, it's not obvious. If I can't see my left hand, I can't feel it, which can be dangerous when cooking. A friend managed to find me a clear oven glove: it works! I’m forever grateful. I also stumbled over one of SameYou’s contributor, The Brain Injury Therapist on Facebook. I wish I'd found her years ago as I’ve learned quite a lot.
Advice I would give to others
It takes time; be patient with yourself and those around you. Time really is a great healer. It’s been 12 years and I’m still improving. I know all you want to do is get back to where you were before your brain injury, but acceptance is the key. I can't do six things at once anymore, but is that really a bad thing? I also can't rummage in my handbag looking for my lipstick while driving along, also probably not that great an idea! I probably spent the first year thinking ‘I’m alive!’ but eventually real life kicks in and you have to work out how you’re going to live now.
My goodness, this experience was an eye-opener. You get another go at life with a different perspective now.
Did you know that over 50% of survivors had to make some changes to either their role, their employer or the hours on returning to work, as a result of their brain injury?* Like many brain injury survivors, Ruth faced an unmanageable workload, and felt that at first glance, nobody would understand what she was going through behind closed doors. Will you stand with us today and donate to help us support people like Ruth return back to work?
*Statistic taken from the brain injury return to work survey