The rug being pulled from under her feet overnight – that’s how tech-sector sales strategist Sinéad Lucey Brennan describes the medical crisis that changed her life eight years ago.
Sinéad, from north Cork, experienced a stroke at the age of 28 when what’s called an AVM ruptured in her brain.
A brain arteriovenous malformation (AVM) is an abnormal tangle of arteries and veins with no capillaries between them. There from birth, this faulty connection means that nearby tissue doesn’t get all the oxygen it should. It also means that blood flows too fast between the arteries and veins involved, increasing the pressure on these blood vessels and making bursts or leaks (a stroke) likely.
Good health
Sinéad says that she was in good health up to November 2016.
“I was young, active and relatively fit,” she says. “I’d had a few severe headaches but none that I would have classed as sinister, but what happened was like the rug literally being pulled from under my feet overnight. The brain injury was absolutely life-changing.”
Sinéad was in the middle of a gym class when it happened.
“It’s almost ironic – you’re trying to be healthy and yet the proverbial hits the fan. I was doing an exercise that must have triggered something. I didn’t suspect that anything was wrong until the person taking the class saw me and said, ‘you’re going in an ambulance’.”
Sinéad found out via a number of scans that an AVM in her brain had burst.
“I was told it could be excised – surgically removed – and that would save my life,” she says.
Sinéad spent three weeks in the intensive care unit in Dublin’s Beaumont Hospital after an operation that took 12 hours. She then returned home to Cork to rehabilitate.
“It was very difficult – I couldn’t walk up and down the stairs unassisted and it was an arduous, uphill battle to regain my balance,” she says.
“I couldn’t follow long conversations, a book or any kind of TV programme. I couldn’t deal with a lot of people in the house. I couldn’t drive, obviously. I also had no short-term memory for almost 12 months afterwards. ”
Her loss of independence really hit home after the acute phase was over.
“I’d be saying, ‘I’d love to be able to do this or that’ but I couldn’t. The surgery had really impacted my ability to pay attention and to concentrate on things.”
Back to work challenges
Getting back to work eventually wasn’t easy, she says.
“I was able to do the work, that wasn’t the issue, but the sensory challenges I experienced because of the open-plan office set up was,” she says.
“I just hadn’t anticipated the challenges at all – the lights hurting my eyes, the noise of the air conditioning, the distraction of a lot of people talking and moving around me – things I never thought about before.”
Sinéad worked to educate the HR department about improvements that would help.
“We eventually found a set up that worked,” she says. “I got a separate area in the open-plan office that was situated near a window so that I had more natural light and noise blocking panels were put up around my desk. I got a reasonable accommodation of working from home a bit more too. Things like that definitely helped.”
Sinead Lucey Brennan had a stroke due to congenital issues eight years ago. \ Claire Nash
Sinéad has had a lot of help with her recovery from Headway Ireland, the charity that provides services and support for people affected by stroke and acquired brain injury.
“They were brilliant. I credit them wholeheartedly with my recovery because I don’t think I would be here today if I didn’t have their support both from a physical and emotional standpoint.”
Sinéad estimates that it took two and a half years to get back into the stream of life.
“I wouldn’t call them ‘lost’ years but it took me that long to figure out what worked, how to cope with the fatigue and to recover emotionally.”
Sinéad remembers how difficult it was when she returned to Dublin from Cork.
“I would go to the shop sometimes but on the way there, I would wonder what I was doing and where I was going. The short-term memory loss was still very difficult.”
Sinéad made good use of pen and paper at that time to help her remember things.
“I forever had a notepaper and pen,” she says. “My handwriting wasn’t great because the brain injury had affected my fine motor skills but it got me through. This helped when I returned to the office too. When people made requests of me I had to be really meticulous and write everything down.
“It was a very slow process but I learned ways and means to be able to cope and to do my day-to-day work almost like an able person. I used Amazon Alexa and a timer to remind me about things like cooking times too.”
Mental health
Telling people at work about her disability initially wasn’t easy, however. “I was trying to figure out a way to share my story at work and I was initially terrified of the impact it would have so I said nothing at first,” says Sinéad .
“I let people assume everything was normal and because I looked perfect and I sounded perfect people assumed that I was but it was a real struggle behind the scenes just to maintain pace and I struggled a lot with my mental health.
“I experienced a bit of burnout and did change jobs eventually because I found the environment difficult but I actually ended up in a much better job and got promoted.”
Joy of motherhood
Six years on from her stroke, Sinéad and her husband Darren Brennan became the proud parents of a daughter, 20 months ago.
“Having a family was something I didn’t imagine possible eight years ago when I was sitting in Beaumont, just having come through surgery,” she says.
“I didn’t think I’d ever come to the other side, to be honest. My husband has been amazing through all of it. Having that partnership and love and support has made all the difference as has that of our family and friends.”
Becoming a mother has, of course, meant adjustments for Sinéad, given that she experiences chronic fatigue because of her brain surgery.
“I have to be really careful with pacing myself. That obviously impacts on how I do my day-to-day work and how I move around with my little girl and how I accommodate her energy and my own and my husband’s as well.”
But what is the situation now overall?
“If I get very fatigued I would have difficulty paying attention to people,” she says. “The brain injury has definitely had an impact on my social life too because things like the pub, to this day, are very difficult because of the noise. I’m from a rural background and now find farm machinery difficult to be around also.”
Her need to manage fatigue is something that other people aren’t aware of, she says.
“Managing fatigue is the battle people don’t see. They see me showing up and speaking and getting out and about in the community and say, ‘oh sure, she’s grand’ but that’s not actually the case. I have to put in a lot of preparation to achieve that.”
Having experienced this life-changing medical crisis, Sinéad now works to be a voice for those with invisible disability.
“I realised that I have to amplify the voices of people like myself who have an invisible disability by telling my story, relating my lived experience,” she says.
To that end Sinéad has worked with the Neurological Alliance of Ireland.
This organisation brings together over 30 non-profit organisations to advocate for the rights of 800,000 people in Ireland who are living with conditions that affect the brain and spinal cord.
“I helped out with their Patients Deserve Better campaign because of things like the lack of access for people with disabilities to what are called community neuro rehabilitation teams.
“These teams would include having a neuropsychologist and a neurophysiotherapist. Just having those teams available to people in their communities is vital.
“I didn’t have access to any of that so I had to undergo private rehabilitation because it was very difficult to get access to services. A lot of work needs to be done to improve services for those with disabilities.”
She has also worked on a discussion paper entitled The Future of Disability in Ireland with Minister of State Anne Rabbitte and she is on the board of Fingal Rural Leader where she is promoting social farming opportunities for those with disability in this north Dublin horticultural area.
Standing for local elections
The ability to be confident around sharing her story is something that Sinéad only became comfortable with in the last 12 months, she adds.
“At that point I’d worked in background politics for a long time and I didn’t think I’d be the person to run in the local elections but then when I could see the lack of services in my area for those with disabilities it prompted me to say, ‘OK, I should probably put my hand up’.
“I think a lot of the time the voice of disabled people is not represented and I want to make sure it’s heard in a place where decisions are made.”
Brain Awareness Week 2024 takes place from 11 to 17 March
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The rug being pulled from under her feet overnight – that’s how tech-sector sales strategist Sinéad Lucey Brennan describes the medical crisis that changed her life eight years ago.
Sinéad, from north Cork, experienced a stroke at the age of 28 when what’s called an AVM ruptured in her brain.
A brain arteriovenous malformation (AVM) is an abnormal tangle of arteries and veins with no capillaries between them. There from birth, this faulty connection means that nearby tissue doesn’t get all the oxygen it should. It also means that blood flows too fast between the arteries and veins involved, increasing the pressure on these blood vessels and making bursts or leaks (a stroke) likely.
Good health
Sinéad says that she was in good health up to November 2016.
“I was young, active and relatively fit,” she says. “I’d had a few severe headaches but none that I would have classed as sinister, but what happened was like the rug literally being pulled from under my feet overnight. The brain injury was absolutely life-changing.”
Sinéad was in the middle of a gym class when it happened.
“It’s almost ironic – you’re trying to be healthy and yet the proverbial hits the fan. I was doing an exercise that must have triggered something. I didn’t suspect that anything was wrong until the person taking the class saw me and said, ‘you’re going in an ambulance’.”
Sinéad found out via a number of scans that an AVM in her brain had burst.
“I was told it could be excised – surgically removed – and that would save my life,” she says.
Sinéad spent three weeks in the intensive care unit in Dublin’s Beaumont Hospital after an operation that took 12 hours. She then returned home to Cork to rehabilitate.
“It was very difficult – I couldn’t walk up and down the stairs unassisted and it was an arduous, uphill battle to regain my balance,” she says.
“I couldn’t follow long conversations, a book or any kind of TV programme. I couldn’t deal with a lot of people in the house. I couldn’t drive, obviously. I also had no short-term memory for almost 12 months afterwards. ”
Her loss of independence really hit home after the acute phase was over.
“I’d be saying, ‘I’d love to be able to do this or that’ but I couldn’t. The surgery had really impacted my ability to pay attention and to concentrate on things.”
Back to work challenges
Getting back to work eventually wasn’t easy, she says.
“I was able to do the work, that wasn’t the issue, but the sensory challenges I experienced because of the open-plan office set up was,” she says.
“I just hadn’t anticipated the challenges at all – the lights hurting my eyes, the noise of the air conditioning, the distraction of a lot of people talking and moving around me – things I never thought about before.”
Sinéad worked to educate the HR department about improvements that would help.
“We eventually found a set up that worked,” she says. “I got a separate area in the open-plan office that was situated near a window so that I had more natural light and noise blocking panels were put up around my desk. I got a reasonable accommodation of working from home a bit more too. Things like that definitely helped.”
Sinead Lucey Brennan had a stroke due to congenital issues eight years ago. \ Claire Nash
Sinéad has had a lot of help with her recovery from Headway Ireland, the charity that provides services and support for people affected by stroke and acquired brain injury.
“They were brilliant. I credit them wholeheartedly with my recovery because I don’t think I would be here today if I didn’t have their support both from a physical and emotional standpoint.”
Sinéad estimates that it took two and a half years to get back into the stream of life.
“I wouldn’t call them ‘lost’ years but it took me that long to figure out what worked, how to cope with the fatigue and to recover emotionally.”
Sinéad remembers how difficult it was when she returned to Dublin from Cork.
“I would go to the shop sometimes but on the way there, I would wonder what I was doing and where I was going. The short-term memory loss was still very difficult.”
Sinéad made good use of pen and paper at that time to help her remember things.
“I forever had a notepaper and pen,” she says. “My handwriting wasn’t great because the brain injury had affected my fine motor skills but it got me through. This helped when I returned to the office too. When people made requests of me I had to be really meticulous and write everything down.
“It was a very slow process but I learned ways and means to be able to cope and to do my day-to-day work almost like an able person. I used Amazon Alexa and a timer to remind me about things like cooking times too.”
Mental health
Telling people at work about her disability initially wasn’t easy, however. “I was trying to figure out a way to share my story at work and I was initially terrified of the impact it would have so I said nothing at first,” says Sinéad .
“I let people assume everything was normal and because I looked perfect and I sounded perfect people assumed that I was but it was a real struggle behind the scenes just to maintain pace and I struggled a lot with my mental health.
“I experienced a bit of burnout and did change jobs eventually because I found the environment difficult but I actually ended up in a much better job and got promoted.”
Joy of motherhood
Six years on from her stroke, Sinéad and her husband Darren Brennan became the proud parents of a daughter, 20 months ago.
“Having a family was something I didn’t imagine possible eight years ago when I was sitting in Beaumont, just having come through surgery,” she says.
“I didn’t think I’d ever come to the other side, to be honest. My husband has been amazing through all of it. Having that partnership and love and support has made all the difference as has that of our family and friends.”
Becoming a mother has, of course, meant adjustments for Sinéad, given that she experiences chronic fatigue because of her brain surgery.
“I have to be really careful with pacing myself. That obviously impacts on how I do my day-to-day work and how I move around with my little girl and how I accommodate her energy and my own and my husband’s as well.”
But what is the situation now overall?
“If I get very fatigued I would have difficulty paying attention to people,” she says. “The brain injury has definitely had an impact on my social life too because things like the pub, to this day, are very difficult because of the noise. I’m from a rural background and now find farm machinery difficult to be around also.”
Her need to manage fatigue is something that other people aren’t aware of, she says.
“Managing fatigue is the battle people don’t see. They see me showing up and speaking and getting out and about in the community and say, ‘oh sure, she’s grand’ but that’s not actually the case. I have to put in a lot of preparation to achieve that.”
Having experienced this life-changing medical crisis, Sinéad now works to be a voice for those with invisible disability.
“I realised that I have to amplify the voices of people like myself who have an invisible disability by telling my story, relating my lived experience,” she says.
To that end Sinéad has worked with the Neurological Alliance of Ireland.
This organisation brings together over 30 non-profit organisations to advocate for the rights of 800,000 people in Ireland who are living with conditions that affect the brain and spinal cord.
“I helped out with their Patients Deserve Better campaign because of things like the lack of access for people with disabilities to what are called community neuro rehabilitation teams.
“These teams would include having a neuropsychologist and a neurophysiotherapist. Just having those teams available to people in their communities is vital.
“I didn’t have access to any of that so I had to undergo private rehabilitation because it was very difficult to get access to services. A lot of work needs to be done to improve services for those with disabilities.”
She has also worked on a discussion paper entitled The Future of Disability in Ireland with Minister of State Anne Rabbitte and she is on the board of Fingal Rural Leader where she is promoting social farming opportunities for those with disability in this north Dublin horticultural area.
Standing for local elections
The ability to be confident around sharing her story is something that Sinéad only became comfortable with in the last 12 months, she adds.
“At that point I’d worked in background politics for a long time and I didn’t think I’d be the person to run in the local elections but then when I could see the lack of services in my area for those with disabilities it prompted me to say, ‘OK, I should probably put my hand up’.
“I think a lot of the time the voice of disabled people is not represented and I want to make sure it’s heard in a place where decisions are made.”
Brain Awareness Week 2024 takes place from 11 to 17 March
Read more
Meet the Maker: ceramicist Sandra Cole O'Brien
'Anyone can get lung cancer – at any age’
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