Yesterday was a big day in our neighborhood. Eric came home.

Two and a half weeks ago one of our dearest friends called me and said he was having the worst headache of his life and needed to go to the hospital. Seven minutes later we were pulling up into the local emergency room and about ten minutes after that he was being prepped for surgery and on a helicopter that was flying to the world-class Jefferson Hospital for Neuroscience in Center City Philadelphia. We think the door-to-door from his house to Jefferson which is about fifteen miles away was under 25 minutes. Such are the benefits of living in the big city.

The next couple of days were among the scariest of our lives. To make a long story short, Eric had a subarachnoid hemorrhage brain bleed and is among the lucky 20% or less who walk away unscathed. The word gratitude doesn’t even begin to express it.

That day, when we were driving to the hospital, I really had no idea what was going on. He was throwing up and really couldn’t talk and I thought he had the flu. Now I feel a little naive. Here’s what I’ve learned:

If anyone ever says they are having “the worst headache of my life” they need to go to the hospital immediately and it needs to happen fast.

Whether you call 911 or you take them there yourself all has to do with location and timing and the situation. If you can, you need to get them into an ambulance as fast as possible. (The official recommendation is to call 911.)  About half of the people who had what Eric had die in the first hour.

Hand written signs by the neighbor kids only begin to say it for us.

Yesterday was a big day in our neighborhood. As I told Eric when I went to visit him in the hospital, we are very happy he’s alive.

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