Dom's Story: My wife took one look at me and said "Something's not right."

Dom with his family

Overall, I'm very lucky.

I have a nice, busy life, like many people. I’m a husband. I'm ‘Dad’ to three kids. I co-own my own recruitment business. I’m fit and healthy. I like running.

That's why what happened last June was a real bolt out of the blue.

I was running on a treadmill and I didn't have a lot of time, so I was doing interval sprints: quick bursts followed by rest. I set the treadmill on fast and did 45 second sprints, then hopped off for 15 to rest before the next interval. I remember thinking, 'I feel strong here.'

When I finished, I went to get a drink, my neck aching slightly. I started to feel a bit strange and then, bang. A horrible, instant, headache came from nowhere. I see why it is called the ‘thunderclap’ headache, as I’ve never experienced pain like it. It’s hard to find the words to describe the sensation.

I’m still not sure to this day how I was able to do the short drive home. But when I got there, my wife took one look at me and said, 'Something's not right.'

I went upstairs and lay down while she called the paramedics. When they got there, I was in a ball and didn’t want to open my eyes: they saw enough to want to take me to A&E.

As I travelled in the ambulance, the pain got worse, sickness kicked in and this continued at the hospital. They scanned me and that's when they told me that they suspected I’d had an SAH (a subarachnoid haemorrhage – bleeding in the space surrounding the brain).

I was ‘blue-lighted’ to Salford Royal, but my memory of this and the next 24 hours is patchy. I don’t remember any of this, but I had a CT scan and further tests and the SAH was confirmed. I was told to stay flat in a dark room and was given suppressants and painkillers.

When I saw the Consultant 24 hours later, they told me my SAH was non-aneurismal and that I wasn't in any life-threatening danger. I remember him telling me that if you are going to have one, this would be the type to have. One in five SAH are like this.

And that was it, no surgery, just painkillers and time. It would now be the process of recovery.

I spent nine days in hospital and the variation was like a roadmap of what I'm experiencing now. I'd have days where I felt like it was happening again. Terrible pain in my head, sickness and dizziness. Other days were tolerable, when although I was lying flat and was not allowed out of bed, the pain and sensations were not as severe. I barely ate during the whole time: the thought of food just didn’t register.

Today, twelve months on, I’m still picking up the pieces. Recovering – but a journey that's nothing like a straight line. What I'm left with is a brain injury and not knowing when, or if, I will be fully back to how I was before. In the first few months, I’d frequently lose my thread in a conversation. I’d forget why I walked into a room. I’d repeat myself. I still don’t remember seeing my kids for the first time afterwards; I find that part hard.

I know I'm one of the lucky ones. I have my family, who’ve simply been everything for me. I’m working reduced hours and duties thanks to my amazing work colleagues. I’m going running. And, I'm here.

But each day now is different. Some days I am fine. Some days I'm not quite myself, finding it hard to function. Social events in big groups, loud noises, being distracted or multi-tasking are all very difficult. I haven’t lost use of anything and within reason, there’s nothing I can’t do. I find I just do some things differently. I adapt. But the tricky part is trying to understand the impact of a brain injury when there are no ‘visible’ signs – for me and for others.

But, other days, in familiar settings, I can feel much more like myself. And thankfully, when I look back now compared to the first nine months I feel big signs of progress.

That’s why I’m still in touch with the wonderful, talented people at Salford Royal, which I’m lucky enough to live a few miles from. They’ve played a massive part in my recovery; from the brilliant, immediate care I received through to their well-structured neuro-psychology sessions. For anyone who has been through a similar process to me and wondered about the help that’s on hand, I can’t recommend them highly enough.

My wife, in the days after the incident, was trying to find more information about what had happened to me – to little avail. But then she stumbled across The Natalie Kate Moss Trust website and podcasts, which have been so helpful to us both.

I don’t really think my SAH could have been prevented – it’s just the way I am wired. I didn’t smoke or have high blood pressure. I was healthy. But I think this is why I am keen to tell my story, to highlight that anyone can be at risk; but swift care and attention, plus a healthy lifestyle, have aided my physical recovery. If my story can help others, that’s a huge positive to come out of my situation.

Dom