In May 2017, on a Sunday, I was at the gym using the chest press when I felt a pop. It wasn’t a sound—more like a sigh inside my body. There was no pain, but I went limp. I shuffled along the wall to some mats. I thought I was having a stroke, but I wasn’t slurring, and my eyes and arms seemed fine. My left leg felt numb—it was the strangest feeling. Lying on my back with my legs bent, both knees stayed upright when I looked at them. When I looked away, the left one fell to the side.
I ended up in A&E for hours at St Thomas’ Hospital in London. I was 34, healthy, and had started to regain feeling in my leg, so they thought it was a bruised spine and decided it was safe to discharge me. Overworked staff and shift changes meant that when MRI images of my brain went missing, nobody tracked them down.
At a follow-up appointment days later, my partner, Luke, argued with the consultant. I was still struggling to walk, and assuming I’d had a stroke caused by a blood clot, the consultant wanted to prescribe a high-dose blood thinner. But Luke—an ICU nurse at the time—demanded a scan.
He saved my life. I returned from a CT scan to find the consultant looking pale: they had found a massive bleed on my brain and were sending me to specialists at King’s College Hospital. Blood thinners might have killed me.
Tests confirmed an arteriovenous malformation (AVM)—a mass of tangled blood vessels—had ruptured near the part of the brain that controls motor function in my limbs, causing a stroke. The consultant neurosurgeon and AVM expert rated it 4 out of 6 on the Spetzler-Martin grading system, which measures complexity, location, and size.
Grade 4 is usually considered too risky to remove. But I was young; he said if I was willing, he was too. Without surgery, there was a risk of another serious bleed.
The operation required three neurosurgeons plus supporting teams of anaesthetists and nurses, so it couldn’t happen until July. Those weeks of waiting were hard. My limp disappeared, but knowing the AVM could burst again was terrifying.
The surgery lasted more than 16 hours, and afterwards Luke was called and told it had gone well. However, the doctor sheepishly added: “There’s something we have to declare. We’re really sorry, but we dropped his skull.”
Right at the end, the piece they had removed got knocked to the floor. Infection was the concern, so they considered 3D-printing a replacement and putting it in months later, but instead they cleaned it and gave me extra antibiotics.
I found out days later, when I was woken from my induced coma. But it meant nothing to me because I was on so many drugs, hallucinating and crying uncontrollably whenever I was happy or thankful.
I didn’t care. Even now, I find it hilarious that my skull has been on the floor. I love to imagine them picking it up, dusting it off, and saying, “Five-second rule!” The surgeons had pulled about 100 metres of blood vessels out of me over 16 hours. They were exhausted. And they fixed me.
Recovery wasn’t easy. Relearning how to walk was horrible, and I was exhausted for months. For a long time, whenever I tilted my head I could hear brain fluid gurgling. I still have loss of proprioception in my left foot—without looking directly at it, I can’t control it.I can’t drive manual cars. I fell 12 metres and shattered my pelvis. I’ve never felt sorry for myself because I’m just so grateful. It brought Luke and me closer: we got engaged weeks after surgery and married in 2021. I later learned that during surgery, they found the AVM was larger and more complex than they had first thought. The consultant neurosurgeon now uses my case as proof that larger AVMs can be removed successfully. While recovering, I came across a study that said survivors of life-threatening situations are among the happiest people. I feel that deeply. You couldn’t design a better life-changing experience. Skull-drop included. As told to Amy Swales. Do you have an experience to share? Email experience@theguardian.com
Frequently Asked Questions
Here is a list of FAQs based on the topic provided
1 What actually happened when the surgeon dropped my skull
During brain surgery a piece of your skull is temporarily removed to access the brain In this case the surgeon accidentally dropped that piece on the floor instead of keeping it sterile This is a known surgical complication though it is rare
2 Is dropping the skull piece dangerous
Yes it can be The main risk is infection The floor is not sterile so the bone can pick up bacteria If that contaminated bone is put back into your head it can cause a serious infection in the brain or skull
3 What do surgeons usually do if they drop the bone flap
They have a few options They might
Sterilize the bone piece using special machines or chemicals
Discard the piece and replace it with a synthetic material
Use a piece of bone from another part of your body
4 Can the dropped bone just be washed off and put back
No Simple washing is not enough to make it safe The bone is porous so bacteria can soak deep inside It needs to be sterilized with medicalgrade equipment or replaced entirely
5 Will I get an infection for sure
Not necessarily If the surgical team recognizes the mistake and takes the right steps the risk of infection is greatly reduced But if they put it back without proper treatment the risk is high
6 How would I know if I got an infection
Signs of infection after brain surgery include
Fever
Severe headache
Redness swelling or pus at the incision site
Confusion or drowsiness
Seizures
If you notice any of these call your doctor right away
7 What is a bone flap
A bone flap is the piece of skull that is cut and lifted off during brain surgery It is usually put back at the end of the surgery to protect the brain and help the skull heal
8 Why not just leave the bone flap out
Leaving it out creates a gap in the skull That leaves the brain unprotected and can cause cosmetic problems Surgeons prefer to put something back to cover the opening
