"MY HEAD HURTS SO BAD!"

"MY HEAD HURTS SO BAD!"

“My head hurts so bad; nothing I do nor medications I take, seem to faze it one bit.  I can hardly stand this pain.  God, it hurts,” said my Dad that Thanksgiving Day in 1964.  He and Mom had come from California to Idaho for what was to be Dad’s final visit with me.  He died on Valentines Day 1965 at the young age of 47.  That headache never went away.

Dad’s head hurt him terribly from early October 1964 until the moment that the blood bubble burst in his head…sudden death.  During those months his doctors tried everything they knew to reduce the pain.  They told him that there was no test available in Modesto, California, where my parents lived that could explain what was happening in his brain.

The only possibility of finding the cause of the pain was for Dad to go to the University Hospital in San Francisco for a test.  During the test which required extreme stillness, he could have died.  And, even if they found a tumor or bubble on an artery, there was no solution to stop the pain, avoid massive brain damage or kill him.  Dad believed that he had a brain tumor and knew from the death of a dear family friend, Margie Cherry, that an attempt to remove such a tumor would be more damaging than the pain he was suffering.

After his sudden death, the autopsy showed that a bubble on the artery on the back of his head had been causing the pressure that created the terrible pain; and, when the bubble burst, the aneurysm could not have been repaired in any way. 

Earlier in our years together, Dad had told me that “when I die, I want my eyes to be given to help a blind child to see again.”  I was not in California that day when he suddenly died and Mom did not know or was not able to make his wish come true.

But, Dad’s headache of those months and his death did save the life of another person ten years later.

In 1975 while I worked as Administrator of Community Services for the wonderful City of Davis, California, one of my employees arrived at a morning staff meeting and said, “My head hurts so bad that I can hardly stand it; and, nothing I take seems to even touch the pain.”  Immediately I turned to Barbara and said, “Barbara, I want you to leave this meeting, call your doctor and see him today.  Don’t delay, because you just said what my Dad said.  I know that now, just ten years later, that surgeons can go in and remove the bubble and you’ll be back at work in six weeks.”

Barbara took my advice.  She returned to work six weeks later with no evidence that she had had the same aneurysm that Dad had except that brain research and medical procedures could go in, clip the damaged section of the artery and sew the ends back together to allow permanent healing.

I know Dad would have been happy to know that he helped to save Barbara’s life.  Unfortunately, no medical care was available to help my sister, Linda, at age 57 when the damaged artery that burst was in the right front of her brain.  She had no headache or other indication that there was a problem when the bubble burst in her brain as she was talking on the telephone to our brother, Larry.  She just said, “Larry, I’ve got to hang up.  My head hurts so bad.  I love you,” and she fell from her chair in 1997. 

If only, medical research was like in Star Trek where all ailments could be resolved immediately.  But, we are fortunate that in our time, so much can be done.