'It's been six years, but it feels like yesterday'

20 October 2011 will be the sixth anniversary of Karen Steven's brain injury. Karen, then a healthy 36-year-old music teacher, suffered a subarachnoid haemorrhage while working out in her local gym. The haemorrhage was to change everything. This is Karen's story.

"My name's Karen. I'm 42-years-old and live in a small town in Scotland called Thurso, where I was born and raised. It's on the northern coast; in fact, any further north and you'll get wet!

"For 11 years I worked as a music teacher and administrator at North Highland College. I was a successful musician, teacher and recording artist and life was good. Music was important to me and I had a flair for teaching, primarily teaching the fiddle.

"I also enjoyed going to the gym, but it was there that life changed. Without warning, while weight lifting at Bodypump, I went from feeling very tired and cold to quite hot and sweaty. As I lifted the weight bar above my head, I could feel the rumble and something burst in my head. I managed to set the weights down and left the class. Worried that something serious had happened, I went to the reception and an ambulance was called.

"I was getting weaker and weaker and I was struggling to breathe before falling unconscious. I have no memory of being put in the ambulance, but I do remember waking up on a few occasions to be sick before blacking out again. I woke again in A&E but was unable to call out for help. I couldn't speak above whispering. The next time I woke was the following morning and I was in a ward in Raigmore Hospital in Inverness.

"I was terrified to hear that I'd had a brain haemorrhage. Both my 31-year-old cousin and my aunt had previously had them, but sadly they both died. Understandably, this made coping with the news that I'd suffered a severe bleed in my brain much harder.

"Following an MRI scan, which confirmed the haemorrhage, I was transferred to Aberdeen Royal Infirmary, where I stayed for two weeks. My memories of my time in hospital are fairly sporadic, however, I remember that the lights felt really bright and I had a constant headache; I was regularly asking for morphine injections to help ease the pain. I remember being cared for by a team of nurses on a regular basis, my parents and sisters being with me constantly and meeting my surgeon on a number of occasions, which I found reassuring.

"It was mentioned that I may be transferred to Edinburgh for 'coiling', a minimally-invasive procedure, but there was lack of bed space. My surgeon in Aberdeen explained roughly what was going to happen but I didn't really understand. Growing up I was terrified of the thought of having to go into hospital for anything, yet here I was agreeing with whatever procedure the doctors suggested.

"In the event, I underwent a more invasive procedure. A titanium clip was placed at the neck of the burst aneurysm where it meets the artery. I remember thinking at the time that they would probably use keyhole surgery and go in somewhere soft, like under my chin. I can't believe how naive I was, however, and it was sometime afterwards that I realised I had 20 stitches.

"There were small hurdles of improvements that I needed to get over after the surgery but I coped, possibly because I went into hospital as an emergency. I think it must be harder for anyone that has a planned operation.

"Despite all this, there are many reasons why I feel lucky. I feel lucky to have survived the initial bleed when so many people are so fortunate than me, lucky to have survived the six-day-long wait for an open surgery slot, and lucky that I recovered so well.

"Strangely, during my time in hospital I didn't give my beloved fiddle a second thought. I totally went off the instrument and didn't want to think about it for months. I was surprised by these feelings, given my lifelong love of the instrument and the fact that music is often seen as being therapeutic. Eventually, after six months I found the courage to pick up my fiddle - partly to see if my fingers still worked! Fortunately, everything worked fine but my aversion to playing remained.

"It's coming up for six years since I suffered my haemorrhage. It feels like yesterday. It always feels like yesterday, yet at the same time I feel guilty for thinking that. I try to tell myself often that I don't deserve to think about it, that the episode is over and I should focus on other things, but I can't help it. I feel that somehow by thinking about it I'm caring about it and that the decisions I make might help protect me from a recurrent attack.

"I am a changed person. I now have no fear of taking risks. For example, I left my job as a music teacher to retrain as a medical administrator. I had such fantastic treatment and care from both hospitals that I feel it is important to try and give something back to the NHS.

"I trusted that I would be able to sell my house and decided that I would rent it out if I couldn't find a buyer immediately. Before the brain injury, I would be too scared to make such a bold decision.

"Another way in which I have changed is that I do worry more now. I worry about having another brain haemorrhage. I worry about other members of my family having a brain haemorrhage. Sometimes it makes me eat healthier, to try and help prevent or delay it happening. Sometimes I find myself talking to people about the brain haemorrhage, because I need to. I think subconsciously I must feel that it benefits me to talk about it. I have read lots of books on the subject; I feel it is important to be informed, but I think my family are worried that I read too much.

"Thoughts of my brain injury are constantly in my mind. I can function normally but it's always there. I might have a strange sensation in the area where I had the surgery. I'll find myself gently massaging the area where the scar on my head is and that makes the memory even more vivid.

"I often will relive the whole episode of the ABI happening, when I am lying in bed awake, or daydreaming. It's like I need to go through all the events from the day it happened to the day I had the angiogram procedure to determine where exactly the bleed came from, to saying goodbye to my family on the day of the surgery, seeing all my visitors and remembering how long they stayed. I have hundreds of very vivid memories and I play them over and over. I don't know why.

"I guess every brain injury is different - as are the experiences of those who have them. To everyone that sustains an ABI, I say keep searching for any support that you feel you need. If you have had a positive experience from your NHS, do spread the word. My opinion is that there are too many negative stories making the press. I feel it is vitally important to promote the happy endings."