More Than My Scars: A Journey from Patient to Future Caregiver

Two scars run through the sides of my head, covered by hair and hidden by time. Though it’s been years and my scars remain smooth, when I braid through the sides of my head, I am reminded of how far I’ve come. 8 years after my procedure, I’ve developed into a thriving student who belts the lyrics to Disney songs, builds relationships through sports, and crochets like an old grandma. On top of it all, I diligently work and hope to become a pediatric neurosurgeon. My name is Thanh-Binh Hannah Nguyen, and I carry these aspects of my identity with me wherever I go. But my name, my activities, and my scars do not embody my story as a whole. They are merely outcomes of the love and support I have received.

At 7 years old, my hands and arms went numb for the first time. From then on, whenever I sang, whenever I played outside, and whenever I simply existed, my hands and arms would randomly go numb. With no solution in sight, that numbness eventually spread to my tongue, leaving my speech broken and my 7 year old self helpless. 

Not long after that, I found myself sitting in Children’s Colorado’s neurology department, face to face with my very own MRI imaging of my very own brain. On the screen, my blood vessels narrowed. and narrowed. and narrowed. until they resembled a puff of smoke. I was diagnosed with moyamoya, a disease, which, translating into “puff of smoke” from Japanese, is a rare condition where the blood vessels in the brain narrow, greatly increasing the risk of stroke. The only solution, surgery.

Before I knew it, I was passing through hospital walls and fluorescent lights in a hospital gown too big for me. 

My first surgery occurred at the age of 8, and 6 months later was my second. For each surgery, I spent 10 days in the hospital. Through those days, I not only remember the paralyzing pain that would often overwhelm me and how each time my IV was flushed, it felt extremely cold, but I also remember how the love and care that my family and medical team brought into my room brought warmth and lessened the pain. Yes, the procedure saved my life, but the way a story was told before I succumbed to anesthesia, the way a nurse mashed up a popsicle into a slushie in order to make my day a little better, and the way my surgeon wore fun ties around me allowed me to keep going.

You have inspired me. 

And, this year, as a Patient Ambassador, I am finally actively able to give back to the Children’s Colorado community through raising money for the neurology department. 

And soon, I’ll be studying biology in college, where, fascinated by my own imaging, I aspire to complete my long-term goal of becoming a pediatric neurosurgeon just like Dr. Charles Corbett Wilkinson. 

Everyone has heard the phrase, “it takes a village to raise a child.” You all are my village.

Children’s Colorado allowed me to live my life out to its fullest potential. You taught me the importance of caring for one another and how much the small things can make a huge positive difference to a human being.

And so I thank you donors, doctors, nurses and team members for helping me find my own footing in this world.