Our family’s story with pediatric stroke began on October 20,2017. Makenzie was 5 years old and on her Pre-K field trip to the pumpkin patch with my parents. They were in the middle of the corn maze when she fell. A fall that came from nowhere, and what we would later learn was because she was having a stroke.
 
After this fall, Kenzie wouldn’t calm down and didn’t want to stand up, so my parents took her home.  Kenzie just kept telling them that she didn’t feel good, she was tired and she wanted to lie down.
 
It was about 130pm when I call Shawn from work, he tells me he thinks Kenzie has the flu. I thought that was weird because she wasn’t acting sick that morning. I call mom and she explains in detail about the day.  I ask her to call the consulting nurse and she does. Mom said that the consulting nurse was 85% sure it was nothing, but 15% said to bring her in.
 
At urgent care, the doctor, who had 17 years of pediatric emergency room experience, did all the standard tests, even had her run up and down the hallway, which she did.  The doctor said he couldn’t do a CT scan at that time, but we could take her to Mary bridge if we wanted one and just wait and see what she was like in the morning.  He diagnosed her with a concussion and sent us home.
 
Our house is about 2 miles from the urgent care and once we got home things started to happen quickly.
 
Kenzie tripped on the stair going into the house, she struggled to take her rain boots off, Shawn helped her and sat her in the recliner and she vomited, Shawn, scooped her up and headed to the bathroom, as I started to clean the recliner, he calls for me. I walk in and he says, check this out, he has Kenzie smile and she does, except only the right side of her face was moving, the left side wasn’t moving, and it looked like it was swollen. I looked at Shawn and said, “that isn’t right, we’re taking her in.”
 
We get to Mary bridge, and as we’re going through the triage process, I have Kenzie smile at the nurse, she had a shocked look on her face immediately turns to her computer and starts pounding on her keyboard. As we were admitted, the ER doctor comes in and goes through her vitals and orders a blood draw. We weren’t in the room 10 minutes when the Pediatric Neurologist enters and begins looking at Kenzie and orders a ct scan.  I ask the Dr what she was thinking, and she responds it could be a migraine, epilepsy or a stroke. I turned to my sister and asked did she just say stroke? She responds yes, she said stroke. That’s when I knew.
 
Kenzie went to the CT Scan, then an MRI.  It was 7:30 pm when we were admitted to the PICU.  A few hours later, the MRI doctor would come into our room and tell us, “Your daughters had a stroke, the damage is irreversible and there could be a hole in her heart, any questions?” We were speechless. Right?! I remember looking over at Kenzie and thinking how is this even possible? The next 24 hours went so incredibly fast. More blood draws, an ultrasound of her heart and an EEG.
 
Our friends and family would arrive at the hospital. The staff, parents and students of her dance studio started a go fund me page, even made and sold Makenziestrong T-shirts. Being in the position of having to need that support is overwhelming. Food, gifts, tears, hugs, laughter and most importantly, prayers. We had an emotional support army and they rallied beside us.  
 
Kenzie was a fighter through every second of this. At one point, the nurses said they needed to put a feeding tube in. It was a battle. The nurse would try to put it in, and it coiled. She tried again and it got stuck, they got it in, only for Kenzie to rip it out. At one point, my parents, Shawn and I each held a limb while the nurse attempted to get the feeding tube in.  I was holding her weakened left arm and it was moving.  Kenzie was fighting! and she was fighting with everything she had. 
 
The first of her labs would all come back as negative or normal.  No signs of damage to her heart, no holes and it was functioning normally. Her EEG would show no signs of seizures or abnormalities. We just kept asking ourselves, why would a healthy child have a stroke?
 
Kenzie didn’t move much during those first few days. The team at Mary Bridge was right alongside us, working on speech, physical and occupational therapy. At 5 days into our stay, Kenzie took her first wobbly steps, and it was beautiful. 
 
After our first week at Mary Bridge, we were told that we were being transferred to Seattle Children’s. Upon arrival at Seattle Children’s, we checked in and one of our team nurses met us at the elevator and we walked into our room, there was our team of doctors, therapists and nurses waiting for us. Almost like a surprise party.  
 
It was then that we met Dr. Catherine Amlie-Lafond. She would enter our room with a giant smile on her face and say, “I’m so happy to see you, I’ve been waiting for you since Tuesday.”  As she pulls up a chair, she takes a purple bag off of her shoulder and hands it to me. It was a Warrior bag from Pediatric Stroke Warriors.
 
She says it’s from a wonderful organization that would benefit us. As I quickly look through the bag, there was a little stuffed dog. Kenzie would instantly name this dog, Sarah. Sarah would become very important to Kenzie, like we can’t go anywhere without it, important. 
 
Dr. Lafond was the first person to sit with us and give us a crash course in pediatric stroke. Up until this point, no one had talked to us about pediatric stroke. We only knew that Kenzie had one.   She would also tell us, that in some cases, there is no cause, and from what she had seen, this was going to be the case with Kenzie. She explained that even though the damage after stroke is irreversible, it does not determine the life Kenzie will lead.
 
We would spend about 3 weeks at Seattle Children’s. Kenzie had to re-learn everything, from potty training, how to get on and off the toilet, in and out of the bathtub and car, how to eat, get dressed, brush her teeth, walk, talk and even smile. It was intensive rehabilitation, with her working about 8 hours a day with her therapy team. We would quickly learn that our new normal would come with lots of challenges but even bigger triumphs. The first time her left hand squeezed our finger, the first time she walked with her gait belt, the first set of stairs she climbed, even our day pass out for dinner to Red Robin. By the end of our stay at Seattle Children’s Kenzie was walking. We were discharged with a wheelchair only to return it 2 weeks later.
 
I ordered a Brave Box for Kenzie, and it was my first correspondence directly with Kaysee at Pediatric Stroke Warriors. At the end of her email she said,” Above all, know that you and your family are not alone in this journey and that Kenzie is going to continue to move mountains”.
 
Kenzie did move mountains as she returned to school and dance. Kenzie loves to dance, luckily for us, it’s also a great form of therapy. We would also tackle our “new normal”. Our jobs. Kenzie would start full day Kindergarten, her physical, occupational and speech therapy, Doctors appointments, a few trips to the emergency room, Dance, and because that wasn’t enough, we added Pilates.  I can’t say enough how Pilates has helped Kenzie’s core, her hand grip, strength and flexibility. We can’t thank Ms. Kim enough for not saying no when asked to work 1 on 1 with our daughter. 
 
I’m not certain how any family navigated a journey like this before an organization like Pediatric Stroke Warriors existed, but I know they did. I can’t imagine how alone they must have felt. We are grateful for the ability to connect with other families, whether it’s on social media or at family support days. To be able to see Kenzie in a room full of other kids who are going through the same things as she is, is so important. 
 
Kenzie is a pediatric stroke warrior, she is also a thriving kindergartner, a competitive dancer and has an unquenchable thirst for fun. Her stroke changed a lot of things, but it has made each of us stronger.
The journey has not been easy and we couldn’t have done this without the support of our friends, family, kenzie’s medical and therapy team and Pediatric stroke warriors.
 
#Makenziestrong
 

In the month of September 2017, there were warning signs that countless missed. Dominic was suffering from headaches at school. Our active boy that would do anything to ensure he was playing outside with friends during recess or PE was frequently missing those fun activities. He was in so much pain from headaches that he would spend his time in the nurse’s office at school instead of being a part of the activities he loved so much. When we would find out about it after school, he would usually be feeling better.
 
Dominic’s test scores plummeted after the summer, even with summer tutoring. His processing skills were a struggle. He was crying at the drop of a hat and our patient guy was frequently losing his cool with his siblings and with us. We had many questions: Is he not getting enough sleep? What has his nutrition been looking like? Is school just over his head and too hard for him this year? Does he have a learning disability that is impeding his progress? Is he having friend issues? Is he being hurt by someone? Or is there something going on in his brain that we need scans for?

All of these questions brought us to our pediatrician. Dominic’s regular doctor was retiring, so we saw a new doctor on September 26th. We asked all of these questions at this appointment. His reflexes and vitals were checked and the conclusion was that the headaches must be attributed to the academic struggles he was experiencing and was given a recommendation to get him to bed earlier and to ensure he had well-balanced meals. We left with a prescription to give him Tylenol at school as well as flu shots for all three kids.  We left hopeful that he was alright as the doctor said, but our guts told us there was something more that was going on, we just didn’t know what.

Well, eight hours later, at 1:00 in the morning things began to take a turn for the worse. Dominic came into our bedroom sobbing and inconsolable, which never typically happened with our son. Between crocodile tears he was slurring his words, repeating words and phrases, saying friends’ names and repeating the word homework. As we were trying to make sense of our little guy, with knots in our stomachs and looking at each other with confusion and fear in our eyes, we concluded that he must be experiencing his first night terror. What we didn’t know is that our baby, at that moment, very unbeknownst to us was having his biggest stroke. Not knowing that it was even possible for children to have strokes, we had him sleep with us in our bed. It was a restless night. One with him moaning and kicking until the morning hours.

Like many other parents of children with medical emergencies, the day of September 27th will be one that we will never forget. We got ourselves and our two other kids ready to go to work and school. We allowed Dominic time to sleep in our bed until 7:15, an hour after his natural alarm clock usually has him awake. When trying to wake him up, we discovered that he had lost bladder control...which never happened to him even as a toddler. He wouldn’t open his eyes. He wasn’t able to respond. When trying to get him to walk to take a shower he was slouching and unable to move his right side. With our son’s limp body lying on our bathroom floor and our heart’s aching with fear, we called 911 immediately.

When the medics came in our home to check Dominic out, with our seven-year-old daughter, one-year-old son, and two dogs never leaving Dominic’s side, the medics said his vitals were fine, but that we may want to get him checked out at the hospital. There were questions about a possible allergic reaction to the flu shot. We went to the closest hospital to our home at the Valley Medical ER where he got a CAT Scan and a subsequent MRI hours later. Our extended family was called and stayed in the waiting room...hoping for the best and praying.

Hours later, the ER doctor on staff came into our dark room when all the while Dominic was still unable to talk, move his body or open his eyes. While we were holding Dominic’s hands, the doctor’s words are fused in our memories. He said: “I am so sorry. The MRI shows that Dominic has suffered multiple strokes. He has most likely been suffering these strokes over a couple of week timespan.” With knees weak, hearts pounding and consequently feeling very queasy, our response was: “Strokes? What does that even mean? He’s going to get better, right?!” To which he responded: “This is most likely as good as it’s going to get.” Once that doctor left and we were left alone with our son who we were hopeful was still taking things in, yet at the same time very fearful that he heard that he was not going to get better and fearing he would believe that, we leaned over him... praying... letting him know that we loved him, we knew he was strong; that he can fight this; that he will get better; and that we believed in him.

We were then transferred to where we would soon consider our home away from home, filled with the folks that we credit for saving our son’s life: Seattle Children’s Hospital. We were assured that if we were going to be anywhere and under anyone’s care, then this is the place to be. This is where we learn that our amazing doctor, Dr. Amlie-Lefond, a national leader in pediatric stroke specialty, comes in. She had already been in contact with the Valley ER and had been guiding Dominic’s care before we had even left.

Upon arrival to the Children’s PICU our angel nurses were not only caring for our son, but they were also caring for us. With the words that the ER doctor said still ringing in our ears, our nurse Cara ensured that this was the place to be and that they were going to take the absolute best care of our son. She also stressed that if we were going to be anywhere in the nation, she believed this was the absolute best place and our son was under the absolute best care by Dr. Lefond and the amazing team of neurologists and other staff.

The night of September 27th into the wee morning of September 28th was filled with fear, tears, panic, exhaustion, hope and faith… along with amazing nurses, brilliant doctors, social workers, tests and machines.  There were countless tests that were performed on Dominic until 3:00 in the morning.  Some of them included an MRA to check his arteries, an EEG to test to check for seizure activity, he was also receiving frequent neural checks and labs. He even had to have a lumbar puncture in his spine to rule out meningitis which also turned out to be clear.

The question still remained: What was causing our seemingly healthy child to have multiple strokes at the age of 9? To further assess the situation, an angiogram was completed several hours later to get a closer look at his vessels into his brain.

The results to the angiogram, the MRI, MRA, and tons of other assessments, allowed our neurology team to deduce that he had what they call a dissection of his left vertebral artery which then caused a larger clot to form in the basilar artery. As the body tried to break down the clot, parts of the clot would break off and cause strokes in three different parts of his brain, making a total of seven individual strokes. Although we have learned from Dr. Lefond that it is very difficult, if not impossible, to date a stroke, based on Dominic’s mood changes, headaches and processing changes, he most likely was suffering from these strokes for the past couple of weeks, until the largest of the strokes sent us to the hospital.

We also learned that Dominic was born with posterior communicating arteries which quite literally saved his life. Only 30% of the population has this which allows more collateral blood flow to the brain. Because he has these it allowed enough blood flow to the damaged area in order to not be catastrophic with irreversible damage. If he was not part of this 30% doctors have feared that he would no longer be with us. The strokes would have taken his life. What is further fortunate about our situation is Dominic's age and neurological plasticity. His brain can recover over time, reroute and create new paths and we are hopeful and expectant for almost a full recovery.  And while the journey is long, we are along for the ride and supporting our guy every step of the way.

We were in the hospital for 31 days. Every day was filled with doctors, nurses, therapists, social workers, Child Life staff and other amazing hospital staff members. Our family, church and close friends also never wavered. We had countless visitors, gifts, prayers from people around the world, and notes of encouragement from students at school, members of our church, as well as many supporters of our family who we didn’t know would soon become part of our circle.
 
That’s when Kaysee with the Pediatric Stroke Warriors came into our lives. The Pediatric Stroke Warriors changed our story.  They helped us see that we were not alone.  Our eyes were opened to a whole community that we didn’t even know existed.  She is a big reason why we will continue sharing our story and advocating for all children and families living through pediatric stroke. Kaysee also sent Dominic a Brave Box filled with gifts that met his interests and needs which also let him know that he was not alone and that there was a whole group dedicated to kids just like him.  He felt so much joy and empowerment after opening this special box. We were also gifted through the Warrior fund with gas cards and gift cards for groceries too…which is a big relief for a family whose lives have just been turned upside down.
 
After leaving the hospital with our son in a wheelchair who was just starting to use a crutch, who was struggling with managing his emotions, who was overwhelmed by the cognitive demand of daily life, we dedicated our time to reacclimating our children with life all together once again at home. Over the past six months since then we have spent hundreds of hours in the car going back and forth to therapies at the Seattle Children’s South Clinic (thank goodness for great Harry Potter audio books!), we have gotten back into a full-time school schedule, we have taken many steps forward and also lost momentum, all the while we have thanked God for every moment of every day.
 
Dominic’s life is back to normal in so many ways but each day we are adjusting to a “new normal” way of living.  Dominic will never be able to try out for the school football team, he will never be able to wrestle, or participate with his friends in a neighborhood boxing match.  Try telling a 10-year-old he can never jump on a trampoline, go in a bouncy house or ride a roller coaster ever again for risk of damaging his arteries and having more strokes.  Many of his young dreams are shattered because of this. But one thing we keep going back to and one he can keep depending on his is his flexibility and resiliency.  Just like the neuroplasticity his brain is going through, Dominic is creating new pathways in life to do the things he loves but in different ways.  

Throughout this journey we have learned a lot about love, about who we are and about how we want to live our lives. Some of our story might sound tragic, but we choose to look at it as a blessing. We have learned many things on this journey and continue to as our son continues to grow, develop and heal, such as:

- We learned that God has a plan and to trust full-heartedly in His plan;
- How to truly live in the moment;
- How to rely on others;
- How to encourage others and how to receive encouragement;
- That the therapy pool is seriously so warm;
- That the hospital pizza is seriously delicious;
- That everyone we worked with at Seattle Children’s and Pediatric Stroke Warriors are true saints on Earth;
- That we have the most incredible support team
- That life is just one big roller coaster ride… just hang on tight, lean in the turns, go with the flow, live in the moment and love the ones you’re with;
-  We learned that generosity of spirit and the willingness to share our own ‘gifts’ freely with others is such a blessing;
- We learned that Dominic’s strokes have changed us all. That we will never be the same.  We are closer, we are braver, we are stronger, we are mightier and we love each other fiercer than we ever have before;

We were given a valuable lesson from a volunteer at the hospital from when her son was at Children’s years ago:  That even though we generally look at ourselves as “givers” and that it is hard and awkward to receive charity from others; she said that without receivers in the world, there would never be givers.  We will all be in the receiver role at different times in our lives, and it is our job as receivers to allow the givers to do what fills their hearts – to give.  We are walking examples of being at the hands of the kindness and generosity of our friends, our family, of Seattle Children’s Hospital and the Pediatric Stroke Warriors…Our hearts are full…and we hope yours are too.
 
 

Fear.

Every day we live with the fear that we got too lucky. That the scariest parts of being the parents of a stroke survivor aren't really over. Sometimes I just stare at him until he gets a shy smile and asks me "what!" as only a six year old can.

When Brayden was 2 years old, he had a stroke in the lower right part of his tiny brain. I was a day behind my wife and Brayden on a visit to my in laws. I received a phone call that Brayden was having a hard time grabbing stuff with his left hand and he was drooling a bit.

I knew it was nothing. I was the tough parent. Hadn't been to the doctor in years, and had to be missing a limb to get me to make an appointment.

We all discussed it and waited until the next day to take him in. Fear had begun to creep in on the edges of my conscious thoughts when my brother in law who is a firefighter said it sounded like the tell tale signs of a stroke.

We took him to the local emergency room that day, and were slightly relieved when we were told with confidence by the doctor that kids don't have strokes, and he probably hurt his hand. Give it a day or two on some amoxicillin for his sinus infection (must be causing the drooling) then take him in again if it doesn't get better.

We went home that night, and we knew something was wrong. My wife took him to the local Children's Hospital as she got home first. I sat in my living room waiting for word on the CT scan they were running.
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I will never forget that night for the rest of my life. My wife called me, hysteria barely contained as she told me with a shaky voice that they saw something on the CT, and were transferring him to Seattle Children's Hospital. My best friend was there at the house with me helping me keep my mind right while I waited for word. He also gave me a hug while I cried uncontrollably for five solid minutes. My mind was working overdrive and a new thought found purchase and wouldn't let go.
My son's life was in real danger.

I jumped in my truck and raced to the Hospital where they were doing an MRI to find out more. His iron was dangerously low.

My baby boy was sick. Really sick.
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​The MRI results came back and the doctors sat us down and gave us the news.

We were there for nearly a week meeting with some of the best doctors I've ever met. We would meet with a team of seven (SEVEN!) Neurologists while they broke down everything for us. He was diagnosed with Factor 2 Prothrombin genetic mutation. Which it turns out came from me.
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He was so small, and so fragile. I held him time and time again as we drew blood, inserted a catheter as he hadn't urinated since he'd been under. My wife and I took strength in each other, and felt helpless as our small boy lay sleeping in her arms.

Dr. Amlie-Lefond with the Seattle Children's Stroke Program, gave us the outlook that she expected a near full recovery of all functions, and from the tests they'd run at the hospital didn't see any immediate neurological limitations, but we would need to continue to monitor him.

So here we sit, nearly four years later. Fear lives permanently within me, though it's boxed neatly in a corner. A shadow in a well lit room. But the only reason I'm able to contain that fear is because of the strength Brayden has shown.

He's had to take Iron daily for four years, along with multiple blood draws, physical therapy, speech therapy, a few check up MRI's, and a dietary plan as we continue to try and chase down his anemia issues.

Despite that, Brayden has done nothing but excelled at sports, shown above average aptitude for academics, and inherited an exceptional sense of humor and empathy from his mom. He doesn't realize the extent with which life has thrown him a curve. That strength can't be taught, only earned.

His strength has been forged through trials he's experienced that many adults would fold under. His fire red hair a testament to his will. He's the reason the fear stays at bay. He is my first born son. My light.

He is my Warrior.
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​~Travis Greenwood AKA "Dad"

​Like most of you, my husband Nick and I were not aware that a stroke could happen in a child, must less an infant, until it happened to our son Jackson.  By all accounts, he was perfect when he made his way into the world in 2012.  He had all his fingers and toes and even received high Apgar scores. Although exhausting, our stay in the hospital was uneventful; however six hours after bringing him home he awoke screaming and inconsolable. After some time, he quieted down but appeared to stare off in a daze, something even us first time parents found unusual. For an hour he continued to stare and refused to eat and Nick and I just knew we had to return to the hospital.

It took over an hour of waiting in an ER room to finally be seen by a nurse who began to take his vitals. When Jackson’s glucose levels read less than 20, the batteries in the device were changed given the low number and his level was taken again, still with no change. We were asked to try to feed him while we waited for the on-call pediatrician to arrive. We would later find out that this is when the ER contacted the Pediatric ICU to ready a bed but it would be 8 more hours until we made it to that floor.

Since Jackson refused to eat, we were admitted to the pediatric floor where a head IV and an NG tube were placed in an effort to keep him hydrated and raise his blood sugar. Eventually we were brought to our own room where they could monitor Jackson. For the next 8 hours, he seemed to do well but any sense of relief I had gained over than time vanished when I looked over at him in the crib and he was blue. Immediately the monitors began to alarm and Nick ran out into the hallway to find a nurse while I contemplated giving him CPR, as I was unable to figure out how to use Oxygen device. A nurse ran in and provided him with assistance, returning his oxygen levels to 100% but not 5 minutes later it dropped back down to 60 and again Nick was out in the hallway looking for help. And from that point on, we watched his monitors for any indication of distress.

Sometime later, another nurse took over Jackson’s care and while taking vitals, she watched Jackson turn his head and eyes to the left, followed by twitching of his left arm; unmistakable signs of a seizure. While she discussed what had just occurred with the doctor, Nick announced it was time to take us up to the ICU because Jackson absolutely needed more intervention than he was receiving.

 As we walked from one floor to the other, Jackson continued to have seizures, which began to present in his entire body. The PICU became a dramatic scene from every Medical Drama series you’ve seen on TV, with doctors and nurses coming in and out, directing others on what drugs should be administered and questioning Nick and me about our family history.  After administering a 3rd dose of a powerful anti-seizure medication we were told he would need to be intubated for his safety as the medication could put him into a sleep in which he’d never awake. We were required to leave the PICU and for 7 long hours I ran over every possible event in my pregnancy that could account for what was happening to our child. Was it because I ran while I was pregnant, or took the wrong prenatal vitamins?  Was this something I did?

It would be 3 more days until we finally received a diagnosis of stroke. But during that time Jackson was hooked up to an EEG monitor, received heavy doses of anti seizure medication, had an elevated heart rate near 200, a CT Scan, an MRI, an EKG, was evaluated by hematology, endocrinology, urology, ophthalmology, cardiology, neurology, and almost lost his right foot when efforts to perform a true blood pressure went wrong.

Nothing prepares you for bad news, not even after watching your child hooked up to monitors and ventilators for days. When his neurologist presented the stroke diagnosis, it was as if the air was knocked right out of my lungs. I watched her describe the MRI and all the damage that had occurred, even in the fibers connecting the left and right hemispheres of his brain. And all I wanted to know in that moment was if he was going to survive and if he did, would he require 24 hour assistances for the rest of his life; questions that his doctor was unable to answer.

We sat there that day emotional wrecks, asking our friends and love ones to give us time to process this information; speaking with the Chaplin; and feverously searching the Internet for any information we could about pediatric stroke, which in 2012 was almost nothing. In fact, most of the information related entirely to adults, who have much worse outcomes. You can imagine the relief we began to feel when the following day he started to show improvements; initiating breaths on his own, responding to neuro exams and lowering his heart rate.  And because we had studied and paid attention, we understood the monitors and their alarms and were able to participate in his care, standing in for rounds and essentially being able to identify the relief in the nurses and doctors that he was in fact improving. After our first week in the hospital, he was ready for the intubation tube to be removed and Nick and I were finally able to hold Jackson for the first time since the pediatric floor. And after another week in the PICU, we were moved to the pediatric floor where he had to learn how to eat again and be able to maintain a consistent glucose levels over a period of time. Then one day two weeks later, he was ready to go home.

Jackson suffered a stroke in his right occipital lobe. He has speech, fine and gross motor delays, as well as issues in his peripheral vision but every day he accomplishes a new word or action and we are so incredibly proud of him. Next year he will enter into a typical kindergarten class with the help of an aid, which is a tremendous milestone for a kid whose life was so uncertain on his 3rd day of life.
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Even as first time parents, we knew something was off with our child due to the far off staring that occurred when we brought him home. We were exhausted but our gut said, “go back”.  In hindsight, the staring off, the apnea, the low glucose and seizures were all glaring signs of pediatric stroke. We caught the first sign early on but since many medical providers believe pediatric stroke to be rare, stroke was not the first thing they thought of when Jackson arrived. 

As parents of a stroke survivor I know this journey and I am vigilant on educating each of his doctors and nurses regarding the signs and symptoms of pediatric stroke, because it matters. I hand out brochures, Pediatric F.A.S.T cards and I ask them all to participate in Pediatric Stroke Awareness in May by creating a Stroke Awareness Board in their offices for their patients and staff. I am proud of Jackson - he is mighty, and I am grateful we caught the signs so early, but I believe we can continue to do better. We can help change the response time in a diagnosis for another child by keeping the momentum of pediatric stroke awareness growing. 

​Alisa Sullivan- Mom to Jackson and PSW Board Member