13/11/2025
My name is Kath, and I survived a haemorrhagic stroke caused by an AVM two years ago, on 22 July 2023.
I was 47 at the time. I knew the signs because my dad was a GP, so I grew up surrounded by medical information and constant reminders about prevention. I believe that knowledge helped save my life.
I was at the Carseldine Markets one Saturday morning with my daughter and granddaughter. I remember feeling both my legs go weak and a rush of pins and needles up my left side to my neck. My daughter was sitting about thirty metres away, and all I could think about was reaching her so my granddaughter wouldn’t be left alone. By the time I made it to the stairs where she sat, I had lost all use of my left side from shoulder to toes.
I spent six weeks in hospital and rehab, relearning how to move, walk and use my left side again. At that point, I still had no idea that an AVM had been living quietly in my brain my entire life. I recovered so well that I returned to work just ten weeks later - no medication, no outside support, just me, a walking stick, and a dictus band around my ankle.
Katherine in hospital
Last year, everything changed again. After finally discovering the AVM, I had lifesaving Gamma Knife radiation because surgery wasn’t an option. The AVM sits right on top of the motor of my brain. Since the treatment, I’ve noticed more of the effects of my stroke, my memory isn’t what it used to be, my ability to learn has declined, and it’s been hard to accept that I am no longer the same person I was two short years ago. The frustration can cut deep, but I never stop being grateful to be alive and upright.
The most challenging part of recovery so far has been dealing with the side effects of the Gamma Knife radiation. Since May, I haven’t been able to work. I’ve experienced anxiety, paranoia, mood swings, fatigue, and memory loss. I’ve had some scary falls, and there are days when I wake up, look in the mirror, and see the same face, but I don’t always recognise the person inside. It feels like I’ve had a personality transplant, and I still wish to be my old self again.
Katherine and her granddaughter
Rehab has been my lifeline. Repetition and consistency have helped rebuild the pathways between my brain and my body. Even now, I still do my exercises every day to keep things working.
Emotionally, it’s been a rollercoaster. I’ve always been a passionate person. I used to call it emotional, but since my stroke, I can swing from anger to tears in an instant. What’s saved me is my support network. My family and friends have been incredible, stepping up for me on days when I can’t do it for myself.
My proudest moment was walking out of rehab with no medication and standing tall. Granted, I had a stick and a dictus band, but that didn’t matter. I felt like I had just won gold at the Olympics.
If I can offer any advice to others recovering from stroke, it’s this: know the signs, act F.A.S.T., and always advocate for yourself. Nobody knows your body better than you do. If something doesn’t feel right, say so. Fatigue may shape your recovery, don’t be afraid to stop, rest, and speak up. And when you’re ready, share your story. It’s therapy for you and education for others. Your story might be the one that helps save lives.
I want to thank so many people who’ve helped me along the way - the amazing ambos Troy and Kaitlyn who got me to Royal Brisbane in 20 minutes, the team at STARS, especially my physio Raj who believed in me before I did, and my old work team who held me up when I was struggling.
Katherine with her children smiling
Most of all, I’m grateful to my family. My eldest daughter Ebony has been my rock, even on days when fatigue and frustration make me hard to be around. And my wonderful husband Troy, who has barely left my side. They both come to appointments, help me advocate for support, and talk me down when things get overwhelming.
Right now, I’m still putting the pieces of my life back together. It’s hard some days. I’ve had to leave my career, change habits, and I’ve lost people along the way. But my family has become closer than ever, and I know how lucky I am to still be here, still walking, still trying.
If my story helps even one person recognise the signs of stroke or feel less alone in recovery, then it’s all been worth it.
If this story resonates with you and you have question, please call the team on StrokeLine 1800 787 653.
