I was a devoted stay-at-home mom, schooling my three after-infertility miracles, ages 5, 8, and 11…  I walked into the chiropractor’s office on my own power. I did not take another independent step for nearly a year…

Since Jennifer’s chiropractor carried no insurance and moved out of the country soon after the accident (thus avoiding any legal or financial consequences), if you would like to help contribute to the Saake (pronounced like the two small words, say and key) family’s massive financial needs (medical expenses alone were initially estimated to cost between $1- and $1.5- Million in Jennifer’s lifetime, but since she has already well outlived every life expectancy she was given, could easily grow much higher), please visit Jennifer Saake’s Stroke Survivor GoFundMe Page. (This support information has been added in direct response to several reader requests.) The Saakes sincerely thank you for your prayers and if God prompts and equips you to send any monetary assistance as well, this is a significant added blessing.

…He took my head in his hands and adjusted my neck one direction. We heard and felt the small pop of the air releasing between vertebra, like when you pop your knuckles, that often happens during a neck adjustment.

Then he rotated my neck the other direction.

Nothing.

No sound. No re-alignment. No relief.

“You are too tense. Just relax. Trust me,” he coaxed, as he held my head in his hands.

A second try.  A little more aggressive. A faster thrust. A longer stretch of my neck…

Tries three and four quickly followed, each successively harder and faster than the times before.  I lost count at that point. Four might have been all…

On that final attempt, I felt, and we all heard, a HUGE pop as, we presumed, my cervical spine did finally start to submit to realignment. I looked up into his face with a sigh of relief and immediately commented, “That feels better, but I am so dizzy!

Just that quickly I grabbed for the edges of the treatment table, where I still lay flat on my back, feeling like I was riding a bucking bronco and would be tossed off at any moment.

My left leg involuntarily kicked toward the ceiling…

My left arm flailed, a split second before my right joined in, throwing my body into what looked to be a grand mall seizure.

This is so weird! What’s going on? I stifled a confused giggle and simultaneously fought to control my limbs and keep my breakfast in my tummy.

The chiropractor cupped my flailing head in his hands once again. “Look at me!” he frantically shouted.

A grey blankness filled my vision. Misty nothingness replaced where I knew his face should have been. “I can’t look at you!”  was my attempted reply, but what came out of my throat was a choking slur of mostly vowel sounds, “Eye at ooc a ooooo.”

My last hazy memory in that office was hearing my mom starting a 911 call…

I do maintain memories of a vivid near death experience that I will share about in its own post.

Dozens of cards in my hospital room.

What I’ve been told was happening here on earth, during that time, was total unresponsiveness of my unconscious body, an ambulance ride I was not expected to survive, an emergency room who initially presumed they were dealing with a drug overdose, continual vomiting while comatose and emergency intubation to prevent drowning, restraints to keep me from pulling out my many life-sustaining tubes and wires as I became somewhat responsive, 5 1/2 days in an Intensive Care Unit where brain and arterial scans eventually revealed two massive brain bleeds (strokes), in my brain stem and cerebellum, caused by a serious tear in my vertebral artery.

I had to be verbally coached and reminded to breath for the first several hours, but the intubation tube came out, and restraints came off, around day 3, I believe.

I experienced a milder, 3rd stroke, while still in ICU, giving my family quite the scare. That shredded artery worked toward repairing itself, clotted, and threw the clot up into one of my lobes.

My first retained memory of ICU happened on day 4, I think. My mom and husband had been taking turns staying with me around the clock. It was Mom’s shift and it fell to her to explain (AGAIN!) that I was in the hospital because I had suffered a stroke…

Poor Mom. She’s confused. Strokes only happen to old people.

The following week in the main hospital neuro unit focused on relearning basic skills like bladder and bowel control, swallowing, and developing enough core strength to sit up, with assistance, in bed. The dizziness was unlike any horror I had ever imagined could even exist. The left side of my body was dead.

My left eye was crossed and paralyzed into pointing at my own nose. My vision was so severely doubled that, when my family took me to watch a movie at the theater a few months later (so after much improvement had already transpired), I saw two totally separate copies of the big screen. The images were not near enough to even overlap yet.

We did not figure out, for several weeks, that along with legal blindness, my left ear was now deaf, too. No wonder communication was so challenging, especially when sight, hearing, and touch losses were added to the obvious issues of muscle tone loss (preventing clear speech), and cognitive word-finding challenges.

After several weeks in a rehab hospital (that my husband had to FIGHT to get me into, twice, since doctors were ready to pack me off to a nursing home to live out the few weeks they expected I might possibly still be able to survive, as a vegetable), three more clot-induced strokes required an ambulance ride back to the regional stroke center, followed by “compassionate care” (not FDA approved, last ditch effort because there was no hope for my survival if some kind of intervention wasn’t at least attempted) emergency surgeries.

On Thanksgiving morning, 2011, an amazing doctor placed a heart stent in my vertebral artery to try to stop clotting and prevent further stroking. He went back in for a second surgery to place a second stent, later that same morning. He was very please with the results of the first procedure, but scans showed the damage still extending beyond the scope of just one stent’s ability to cover.

During the post-surgical week of complete hospital bed rest (where my neck was firmly braced because I was not allowed to turn it in the slightest), some numbness started to dissipate, only to be replaced by excruciating head-to-toe nerve pain on the left side of my body. We discovered that both the left side of my jaw (presumed to be from traumatic intubation) and left shoulder (stroke-induced loss of muscle tone needed to hold it in place) had become dislocated.

The week of recovery complete, I was sent back for a few more weeks in rehab to learn to function to my fullest within the confines of my new limitations. I learned wheelchair transfers in and out of vehicles and the restroom, how to shower with the help of a caregiver and all my needed adaptation equipment, dressing myself (ever tried to tie shoes one handed?), how to sit up in a dining room chair with arms but no seat belt, how to use utensils and eat with only one semi-functional hand, how to chew and swallow solid foods with a compromised mouth and throat, how to clear my airway or get assistance for help when I choked with every other tiny bite, much work on restoring movement to the paralyzed eye, and endless LAPS and LAPS wildly careening around the therapy gym trying to learn how to use a shopping cart as a make-shift walker.  Against doctors strong preference, I was finally sent home in a wheel chair, just starting to use a heavy-duty, seven-wheeled walker, on occasion and with close adult supervision, just before Christmas.

I was in near-full-time therapy even after I was sent home. For the first several weeks, therapists traveled to me, as I was too medically fragile to leave the house. I had a hospital bed in my living room.

The kids lived about an hour and a half from our home, with my parents-in-law, for the first eight months. That was one of the two hardest parts of our entire stroke experience, seeing my babies only on weekends. The other hard part was how stroke impacted our marriage.

Having just celebrated our 19th wedding anniversary two months earlier, to becoming special needs caretaker and invalid, rather than husband and wife equal partners, was devastating! About 6-18 months into the recovery process, I became a very weepy, ANGRY, forgetful, accusatory, “mean drunk” (it is temporary impairment of the cerebellum, via alcohol, that causes symptoms of “drunkenness” like poor judgement, slurred speech, lax muscle tone, drooling, staggering walk, fatigue, etc.) we dealt with HOURS of my irrational yelling at Rick:

EVERY. SINGLE. NIGHT.

Months, into years, on end.

I asked Rick to leave. By God’s grace, he did not.

I lost my ability to cry at sad and needed times. Except for any conversation with Rick… Tears still don’t come as appropriately or easily as they should, but I can talk with Rick without the constant torrent of leaky eyes, screaming, and hiccup-y breathing, most days now. For this we are both exceedingly grateful!

To this day, laughter is still my default reaction when things are sad, serious, or scary, though. The more I love you, the more serious your injury, the more prone I am to laugh long and hard when you are hurt. My family has learned to be gracious in this strange response, for the most part, but as you can imagine, this tendency has led to a myriad of social dilemmas.

The Lord is restoring the years the locusts have eaten. Our marriage is rebuilding. Our kids are all in traditional classrooms (the oldest is now in college!) and doing well, academically.

Emotionally, every family members was hard-hit by the traumas we survived. Thank you to all the different care providers, of so many different kinds, who have ministered to each member of our shattered family over the years, especially churches, counselors, and friends (like Kathy who has been faithfully helping me relearn to keep house, voluntarily coming to spend a day cleaning and organizing with me, each week or two, for over six years).

The most commonly asked question is, “Did you sue him?”

After many weeks and much council, I became convinced that yes, a lawsuit was appropriate and warranted. I came to understand that a lawsuit could be conducted without vengeance, but that this was the method our government had set in place to provide for my million and a half dollar anticipated lifetime medical needs.

So we met with a personal injury attorney and set the wheels in progress, only to encounter two major issues.
1. He did not carry insurance (most states do not require malpractice insurance for chiropractors, so he had opted out of his).
2. He left the country, thus U.S. jurisdiction, so even if a lawsuit (that no layer would now conduct Pro-Bono, because it would result in assured financial loss for them) had been conducted against his personal assets, there would have been no enforcement of the granted judgement.

That was the end of any hope for financial restitution.  It would have cost us several thousand dollars (that we sure didn’t have!) in the hopes of obtaining only a moral victory. We had no desire of destroying his name, nor enduring the physical nor emotional rigors of a trial, so we dropped the lawsuit.

Selling tires up in Canada now, he is no longer practicing chiropractic. Legally he could have moved back to Reno after just 12 months and my statute of limitations would have been expired, so he technically had the right to begin practicing chiropractic here once again, at that point. While I had no legal recourse as far as financial compensation, I did file a complaint with the Nevada state chiropractic board and his Nevada license was permanently revoked. He can still apply for a license in any of the other 49 starts in this country, or in any other country, but my guess is that watching my stoking face as that left eye migrated into its locked position against my nose, is a sight that lives on in his nightmares and will prevent him from ever again preforming a neck manipulation again.

If he ever reads this post, what I want him to know is that Jesus Christ, the one and only God in flesh, knowing I was beyond restitution, loved me so much that He purposefully died in order to bring me in a right relationship with Himself. Does Jesus’ death mean all these stroke realities didn’t happen, don’t still impact our lives? No. It means that if God has forgiven me at such great cost, I have no right to do less, to hold this against you, to wish for you any less than the same eternity God has purchased, by His very blood, for you. As my daughter put it simply, the unforgivable has been forgiven.

I still don’t have the cognitive function or quick reflexes needed to safely drive, so no license yet, though this is one of my long-term hopes. I am going to take a course designed to re-educate elderly folks who loose their licenses, as soon as I feel my brain and body are both responsive enough to safely allow me behind the wheel again.

I use a cane when out in crowds. I still rely on regular water aerobics to maintain muscle tone and function. (I hit physical regression and symptom relapse within as little as one or two missed classes.)

Please contact me to join our information and announcement group if you want local group attendance details.

I am seriously hoping that the book I had just started writing in the month before my strokes, Harvesting Hope From Heartache, will finally be ready for a publication contract later this year. I’m involved in many activities such as my church’s prayer team (am I ever a believer in what we free God to do through our prayers, after all the prayers I know were prayed for me!) and am starting a Christian writing group here in Reno, Nevada.

Life is different, but dawn is rising and I’m learning to sing (metaphorically – my voice, while no longer locked in monotone stone as it was for the first couple of years, is still reeling from stoke damage, in case you are trying that sentence in the literal/physical sense) again…

9 months after my first 3 strokes

  • Statement from the American Heart Association/American Stroke Association, concerning strokes and cervical manipulative therapy (CMT), that concludes, in part, “Cervical artery dissections (CDs) are among the most common causes of stroke in young and middle-aged adults.”
  • Chiropractic’s Dirty Secret: Neck Manipulation and Strokes stating, “Chiropractors would like you to believe that the incidence of stroke following neck manipulation is extremely small. Speculations exist that the risk of a serious complication due to neck manipulation are somewhere between one in 40,000 and one in 10 million manipulations. No one really knows, however, because (a) there has been little systematic study of its frequency; (b) the largest malpractice insurers won’t reveal how many cases they know about; and (c) a large majority of cases that medical doctors see are not reported in scientific journals…” [For example, my story was never reported for any legal or medical statistical collection, due to privacy laws!]

Sadly, the general mindset of many (most?) chiropractors is that there is no risk, that any association between CMT and stroke is a myth. (Seriously, do your own search on “chiropractic stoke” and you will find the word “myth” tied to it a LOT. Hmmm – I guess I just imagined my life and my family’s world being turned upside down because of neck manipulation then???) This video arrogantly explains an adjustment from the chiropractic perspective (assuring you why it is so safe and telling you all the reasons why it is the patient’s fault and not possibly the manipulation that causes a stroke) and goes so far as to say any link between an adjustment of the neck and stroke is just another “urban legend.”

According to the, now inactive (it was patient run), Chiropractic Stroke Awareness Group web page, “1-to-3 people each working day in the United States have a stroke caused by chiropractic, or 260-to-780 people each year, or 2,600-to-7,800 per decade.” This estimation is scientifically considered “anecdotal” because it is a number derived from, based upon, patients self-reporting their injuries to one another. Ask almost any MRI technician in the country, and he will confirm having run at least one round of scans on an arterial dissection (often leading to stroke) after chiropractic neck adjustment. One physical therapist here in Reno reports seeing someone new after chiropractic stroke on a weekly basis, here in this one town!

There is no established reporting system regarding chiropractic stroke, and various privacy laws currently prevent good data collection. For instance, all that you have just read about my story is locked up in my medical record and not “counted” anywhere!

Chiropractic stroke it is not terribly common, but not surprisingly uncommon either. I firmly believe it to be literally an every day occurrence, if the hundreds of chiropractic stroke survivors (or the families of non-survivors) I have personally been in contact with, are of any indication. When you become that “one,” the fact that it does sometimes happen, whether it is one in 5 or 10 million (as the chiropractic industry claims), or 1 in 20 or 40 thousand (as patient groups estimate), becomes much more pertinent than the being comforted by the low likelihood!

More videos telling similar stories of vertebral dissection leading to stroke after a chiropractic adjustment, sometimes even with fatal endings, are documented on the Chiropractic Stroke channel on YouTube, including actor Kevin Sorbo’s (stroked after a chiropractic adjustment, while staring as Hercules in the t.v. series) story. In 2017, model Katie May died and the coroner’s report directly stated her death was due to stroke via chiropractic neck adjustment. (I didn’t add any links only because of where she modeled, but if you really want to know, her story is an easy search.)

 
As a result of the strokes, deep genetic testing was preformed on my family, and all currently known genetic markers of hypermobility syndromes came back negative
  • 1. He saw the symptom, and without all that medical research yet having been done, it was incumbent on him to act with caution, presuming I might have a genetic condition that would make me more prone to arterial injury and this known potential complication of neck adjustment.
  • 2. Knowing what we now know, that I do not have vEDS, that leaves us with the problem that what happened to me could happen to anyone! Remember, I walked into his office having no clue that there was potentially anything of medical concern going on, so even if you think you are not at risk, there may be a contraindication that you have no idea even exists.