Jana
Jana is 52 years old. In December 2021, just before Christmas, a brain aneurysm ruptured. Until then, she had lived the hectic life of a journalist, loved travelling, and had no idea that she had an aneurysm in her brain. Today, she knows that nothing comes without effort, but also that it is possible to live a full life even with a brain injury.
This interview was written in the summer of 2026.
Jana, what actually happened that December? Were there any warning signs?
None at all. I felt fine. I would occasionally get headaches, but I put that down to working too much. I lived a hectic life, loved travelling, and never really had time for doctors. On that critical evening in December, I went to pick up the Bethlehem Light and buy a Christmas tree, and later that evening I wrapped presents. It was Saturday, and I was happy that I had everything organised. All that was left was to buy the Christmas carp, and then Christmas could begin, I thought to myself in bed. But on Sunday morning, I didn’t wake up. My husband called an ambulance, and everything after that I only know from what I was told, because I fell into a coma.
How long were you “out” and what were your first feelings when you woke up?
I didn’t wake up until February. I remember people in my hospital room talking about the war in Ukraine, and I had absolutely no idea what was going on. I thought, what war? Has everyone gone crazy? It wasn’t until that evening that my husband explained to me that war had broken out between Russia and Ukraine. And then my real fight for survival began. I couldn’t walk, I had difficulty speaking, my concentration was practically non-existent, and after several operations I had no hair and weighed 20 kilos less. My short-term memory was almost completely gone.
What helped you most not to give up during the hardest moments?
My family was my strongest motivation. My son was six years old at the time. Because of Covid, he wasn’t able to visit me in hospital, but knowing that I had him and my husband kept me going. The doctors were worried that I might not even remember my family. Interestingly, at first I responded better to English than to Czech, which was lucky because my husband is a foreigner and doesn’t speak Czech.
Rehabilitation after something like this is usually a long process. What was it like for you?
In March, I was transferred to Kladruby, where I had to learn to walk and speak again. Afterwards, I attended intensive rehabilitation at Albertov with a whole team of specialists, including a special education teacher, a psychologist, a physiotherapist, and a speech therapist. It was my speech therapist who later introduced me to Cerebrum.
Why was becoming involved with Cerebrum important to you?
At first, I thought I would never fit in with that “crazy bunch,” but now I’m really happy there. I go to yoga, bowling, and a book club, and I meet people who have been through similar experiences. It’s a wonderful group where people support one another. Feeling comfortable and accepted among other people is incredibly important to me now.
Has this experience changed the way you see the world?
Definitely. I’m more humble now, and I appreciate the little things. I’m less critical and spend more time with my family. Maybe “the man upstairs” just wanted to warn me that I needed to slow down a little in life.
What is your life like today? Have you managed to return to everyday responsibilities?
My life is good now. I pick up the children and drive them to their after-school activities, which is still a challenge because I have to remember all the names and places. But I can also manage things that once would have seemed unimaginable to me. I can fill in a tax return, arrange a mortgage, use the Czech government data-box system, and I can even fix the dishwasher if I need to.
What would you say to people who have gone through something similar?
Never give up! Nothing comes without effort, and you have to keep training both your body and your memory, but even with a brain injury, it is possible to live a very happy and fulfilling life.
