January 2025 Janine Welch

In October of 2014, I was living the life that I had set out to live. I held a demanding, high-pressure position at a hospital I had strived to attain. The job was incredibly rewarding. Every day I worked I saved people’s lives.  I was healthy, fit, a mother, a wife, and successful professionally. All societal boxes of what success “should” look like checked off. Both home and work mattered deeply, and I aimed to excel in each. My identity was completely entwined. Looking back, there were many signs of stress I didn’t recognize—such as insomnia, a racing heart, and ongoing anxiety. I didn’t realize then that my perfectionism made it hard to accept mistakes. I pressured myself to succeed and prove my worth. I appeared to be excelling.  However, I was burning the candle at both ends, so to speak, and not really aware of any of it.

The hospital kept increasing staff demands during a long hiring freeze after the 2010 recession. Work-life balance was being tested. We had only just begun rehiring when I fell seriously ill in November 2014. I was at home watching a Patriots vs. Broncos game with my family when I got the “worst headache of my life.” It was a Brady vs. Manning thriller but I was too busy chasing my four-year-old son around the house to actually sit down and watch it. I had gone upstairs to grab something when it happened. I asked my husband to call rescue because I knew it was something serious. A CT scan in the ER showed I had suffered a peri-mesencephalic hemorrhagic stroke from either a venous or capillary source. I was 39 years old. There was no known origin or etiology. Just some weird, unexplainable brain hemorrhage that rocked my life. I was shocked and incredibly humbled. I was told life would go back to normal after a few months of recovery. It did not.

Recovery was slow and arduous. I went from dragging my right foot to slowly walking around the block in a couple months. Lights became my enemy. Artificial or natural were both very painful. Fluorescent lights were completely intolerable.  I needed help for a while, so some family came to stay. My son was just four years old and so full of energy. The feeling of guilt from not being able to be mom at that time weighed heavily. And the anxiety was ever present. What in the world just happened?

I kept at it, though, and I did manage to get back to work eventually to some capacity. My boss supported my part-time work, but the lighting kept causing regular weekly migraines. I continued my career despite ongoing symptoms. I was fighting to make it to the other side. I also had this frustrating habit of repeatedly bumping my head into things. I couldn’t figure out why this was happening, and it consistently made my symptoms worse for a longer period than what I was already experiencing. Nevertheless, I was determined to make it.

In 2018, while still recovering from the hemorrhage, I was diagnosed with breast cancer and underwent surgery and radiation. This setback challenged my recovery, but it taught me a lot about resilience and made me mentally stronger. It was definitely not easy, and I had some real challenges with the medications, but I did manage to push through. 

Then in the fall of 2019, things were finally beginning to shift, and I was starting to notice some actual improvements. It was a gorgeous September day, and I decided to take Bella, our dog, for a walk in Fort Williams. I was enjoying the sun on my face and the sound of the ocean when I slipped on some wet rocks and suffered a concussion. This was exactly what I did not need.

In the spring of 2020, I was informed that the per diem and part time positions at my job were no longer being supported and I would need to apply for full time again. I told myself that I was having some success working with reduced hours, so maybe I should give it a try. Unfortunately, the migraines, photophobia, and occipital neuralgia from the recent concussion got worse and I was struggling very hard to keep up. Basically, this was the beginning of my awareness that I had PCS, persistent concussion symptoms. The pain was immense, and the fatigue was overwhelming.

For the second time in my career, my personal life was dominated by work. I spent my time working and recuperating, and again the guilt of not being present at home was taking over. I held on for a couple of years, believe it or not, but eventually crashed. I was entirely burned out and had to walk away. After that I tried a couple of different options elsewhere with reduced hours, but the reality was that my brain and body needed rest. At this point my son was in middle school and I made the decision to be a stay-at-home parent while I healed.  

I was just having some symptom improvements when in the summer of 2024, I bumped my head again.  Due to the ongoing battle with the lights, I was wearing both sunglasses and a hat, which resulted in me inadvertently walking into a low-hanging tree branch. Exacerbation of symptoms began the next day. I was basically in a continuous migraine. Then again, in the summer of 2025, Bella jumped up and hit my face. This would not be a problem for most people but for my recovering brain, it was debilitating. It was starting to feel like every time I got a little better something would happen. I would get up and then get knocked down again and again. I decided I can’t give up or into that kind of thinking. I needed to take things one step at a time. Focus on what I can do.

This journey has been unlike anything I ever imagined. I have learned so much about myself and life from the struggles. Living with post-concussive symptoms every day is so limiting. It affects everything from walking, driving, socializing, sleeping, reading, diet and any type of screen time. I look normal but I am anything but. Still, I feel I am on a transformative journey and for that, I am grateful. Before this, I was entirely overwhelmed, unaware and just surviving.  Getting sick forced me to slow down, be more present, and appreciate this “one wild and precious life” as poet Mary Oliver writes in her poem, “The Summer Day.”  I am most grateful for the time and perspective I have been given to focus on raising my son. Not sure where we would be if I had stayed on the path prior to the stroke.

I do not know if I will ever fully heal or if I will have some permanent deficits. I have not been approved for disability as of yet and I am too limited to actually work right now. I spend my time getting better. I have combined all of the tools and therapies I have learned and work hard every day. Vision therapy, physical therapy, vestibular therapy, mindfulness and meditation etc… And lots of naps.  My full-time job right now is to recover but with the understanding that eventually, I will have to obtain income. I know I still have a lot to offer, and I honestly believe there is more for me to learn from the balance of acceptance and determination.  For now, I will continue to do the hard work, try to be fully present and keep listening and learning. And I won’t do it alone. I have met so many amazing people through this journey.  Who knows what will happen or who I will meet next along the way?

Since writing her story, Janine has decided to take her experience and use it to support other brain injury survivors. Janine is facilitating the new Maine Persistent Concussion Symptoms support group, which will be meeting virtually on the first Tuesday of each month starting in January 2026. To sign up to participate in the support group, please email Janine at healingbrain22@gmail.com.