TYPE OF STROKE: HEMORRHAGIC
Tammy Barras, a mother, wife, daughter, sister, and president of a plastic injection molding company, saw her life change dramatically in October 2023. On an ordinary Friday, she went to work, returned home, and shared dinner with her husband. A mild cold prompted early rest, but an hour after going to bed, a cough triggered a headache so severe she couldn’t lie down. Her husband called 911. Initially, Tammy showed no stroke symptoms, but by the time paramedics placed her on the gurney, the left side of her face drooped, and her speech slurred. In the ambulance, a paramedic urgently noted, “She’s stroking out on me.” That moment marked the last Tammy recalled for nearly a month.
At Kaiser Cottle, a CT scan revealed a massive hemorrhagic stroke in her right basal ganglia, causing severe brain swelling that shifted her brain half an inch to the left. Transferred to the neural ICU in Redwood City, she spent nearly two weeks stabilizing the swelling. Once stable, Tammy moved to Kaiser’s stroke rehabilitation center (KFRC) for 18 days of intensive physical, occupational, and cognitive therapy. There, she discovered she could neither walk nor use her left arm, a reality that stunned her. “I was unaware of how disabled I was,” she later shared.
At KFRC, Tammy worked diligently to relearn walking, improve cognitive abilities, and awaken her left arm. She initially believed she’d wake up fully recovered, but a physical therapist’s story about a patient walking normally after three years shook her. “How am I going to make it to three years?” she wondered. Yet, two years later, she persists, defying expectations with slow but steady progress.
Released just before Thanksgiving, Tammy celebrated with her children, their spouses, and her parents, deeply grateful to be home after over a month in hospitals. The next day, breathing difficulties led to another 911 call. Doctors found a massive blood clot straddling her heart, requiring an emergency thrombectomy. This created a medical dilemma: blood thinners, the typical treatment, risked restarting her brain bleed. After another week in the ICU, doctors selected the right medication, and Tammy faced no further clot issues.
Surrounded by family and friends, Tammy felt profoundly blessed. Her husband, married only five years, became her caretaker, handling the role with grace, kindness, and love. He shared a childhood lesson: “Helping you is one way to say, ‘I love you.’” This support deepened Tammy’s appreciation for her loved ones, revealing how much she’d taken for granted—simple acts like climbing stairs, hugging, or hanging a shirt. Watching others move effortlessly, she thought, “If only they knew how lucky they are,” but recognized this lesson was hers alone. Slowing down taught her patience and the need to focus step-by-step.
Returning to work in January 2024, Tammy encountered disruption. Her capable team had managed the company during her six-week absence, but some, having enjoyed their autonomy, doubted her readiness to return. Her neurologist’s encouragement—“Don’t sit home and be a vegetable. Get out and do things”—spurred her forward. Instead of her usual 50–60-hour weeks, Tammy now works two days in-office, totaling eight hours, and three days remotely, limiting customer interactions to conserve energy for recovery. Her brain, now altered, struggles with multitasking and typing, tasks once second nature, as she adapts to one-handed typing and a slower cognitive process.
Tammy learned the power of words in shaping her mindset. “If your brain says something, your mind believes it,” she realized. Instead of saying “I can’t,” she says, “I can’t do it yet, but I will.” This positivity fuels her progress. Sharing a physical therapy update with her daughter, Katie, Tammy noted, “I’m not faster, but I’m more stable.” Katie replied, “Mom, nobody said you had to be a fast mom. We just like you up on your feet!” These words lifted Tammy’s spirits, reinforcing her determination.
Asking for help challenged Tammy, who had been fiercely independent. Needing assistance with tasks like showering initially upset her, but her husband’s story reframed it as an act of love. Her father’s wisdom guided her perspective: “You can be cold, wet, and miserable, or just cold and wet.” Choosing gratitude, Tammy found silver linings—adventure days with her mom to the beach or for manicures, and business trips with her parents or son, like a board meeting in Indianapolis. These moments, born from her need for assistance, enriched her life in ways she hadn’t anticipated.
Tammy’s therapy journey, longer than expected, involved eight physical therapists over two years. After KFRC, she transitioned to at-home physical and occupational therapy for six weeks, then to Kaiser Cottle for four months until they deemed her progress complete. Unwilling to accept this, Tammy sought Shana at Luna for ongoing home therapy and convinced her Physical Medicine doctor for additional Kaiser sessions. She now pursues the IpsiHand for her left arm, appealing insurance denials based on promising studies. Defying predictions that recovery plateaus at six, 18, or 24 months, Tammy continues to improve, trusting her body’s potential. “They have no idea what they’re talking about,” she says, determined to keep striving.
Tammy’s journey reflects resilience, gratitude, and advocacy. Her faith and loved ones sustain her. “God is good, and He answers prayers,” she affirms. She urges others to stay positive, seek silver linings, and advocate for their recovery.