Return to the hospital ...
Dr. Taylor Delgado: The aneurysm they had coiled had ruptured. Ali had a recurrent subarachnoid hemorrhage and an intracranial hemorrhage, and she was still bleeding. So, they took her to IR to try to embolize it and accomplished as much as they possibly could.
She had hydrocephalus, the ventricles in her brain were enlarged. Normally, they would put in a drain, but they couldn’t because she was on aspirin and Plavix (clopidogrel). That would risk her having a bleed around that insertion site, which would cause a brain hemorrhage.
Dr. Alison Delgado: I was like a ticking time bomb. We knew I would have to have surgery as soon as possible to open my skull and clip the aneurysm. But I had to be on the Plavix and aspirin for at least 6 weeks before it would be considered safe to discontinue them. It was another 3 weeks before they could proceed with the surgery.
The second hospitalization was scarier than the first, because I was much more aware. I knew that I might not be able to return to my residency and do the thing I had dreamed of doing. There were risks of me becoming blind or paralyzed during the surgery. I might not even leave the hospital.
Dr. Taylor Delgado: It was mid-December by then, and my dad asked her, “Ali, what do you want for Christmas?” She looked at him deadpan and said, “normal brain.”
Dr. Alison Delgado: The surgery was successful. I went home a few days later. But I’d lost everything I had gained in rehabilitation. My speech was back to square one.
None of the doctors really expected me to go back to work. But from my standpoint, I thought, I could have died the day I was hit. I could have died when the aneurysm ruptured, or at any point along the way. But I’m here and I’m going back to work.
Dr. Taylor Delgado: In January, I went back to work and I had to fly on the helicopter. They were worried about how I would react. My flight director flew with me on my first shift. Our first flight was an inter-facility STEMI transfer. No big deal. The second one was a car accident outside of Batesville, Ind. We were in the back of the ambulance, and I looked at this woman. She was 27 years old, thin, with long hair. She looked exactly like Ali.
Ali flashed into my mind, and I was like, nope. Ali’s at home. She’s fine. This person is right here, right now. Do what you do. I intubated her in the helicopter. We gave her hypertonic saline. I started a blood transfusion. Afterward, my flight director came up to me and said: “You’re released back to full duty. That was the hardest test you could possibly have on your first day back flying, and you nailed it.”
Dr. Alison Delgado: I finished my residency in December of 2012 and passed my pediatric board exam on the first try, almost exactly 3 years after my accident.
The spring before I started medical school in 2005, I had won the Cincinnati Flying Pig marathon. In 2011, a few months after my accident, they invited us to be the starters of the race. When we stood at the starting line, I decided right then I was going to run this marathon again the next year. In spring 2012, I returned and finished in fourth place, beating my previous winning time by two minutes.
I have a different level of empathy for my patients now. I know what it’s like to be scared. I know what it’s like to not know if you’re going to leave the hospital. I’ve lived that. The process of writing my book was also cathartic for me. I told my story to try to give people hope.
Dr. Taylor Delgado: I have a tattoo on my wrist showing the date of Ali’s accident. The idea was to remind myself of what we’ve come through and everyone who went above and beyond. To show gratitude to them and remember everything that they did for us. It’s also to remember that every patient I see is somebody else’s Alison.
A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.