Geno was rushed to Cleveland Clinic’s Richard E. Jacobs Center, where a CT scan confirmed the stroke. Doctors administered a clot-busting drug, but it wasn’t enough. Geno needed a thrombectomy — a procedure to physically remove the clot — which meant an emergency transfer to Cleveland Clinic’s main campus.
For Bo, riding in the ambulance without knowing what would happen next, the fear was overwhelming.
“I was thinking he was gonna die. I was thinking, how is this gonna happen? How am I gonna tell his brothers? How is Adrienne gonna feel if he doesn’t make it — she wasn’t there,” Bo said.
At main campus, a pediatric neurologist assessed Geno using a standard stroke-severity scoring system.
“He was basically at the top of like, you know, checked all these different boxes of not communicating, not doing, not doing, not doing,” Bo said.
The clot itself proved severe. It took doctors six separate attempts to fully remove it.
“We later learned the clot was so severe — or significant, I guess — that they had to do six separate passes to actually remove it all,” Adrienne said.
Uncertain days
Geno survived the procedure, but the days that followed brought new fear. His speech was significantly affected, and the uncertainty of what recovery would look like weighed heavily on his parents.
“Is he going to be able to do all those things that we’ve worked so hard over the course of eight years to be sure that he can do and enjoy the life that he has,” Adrienne said.
Geno, even at eight years old, understood enough to be frightened himself.
“He kept asking questions about — as we perceive them — am I going to be able to talk? Am I paralyzed? And to hear those words come out of your eight-year-old’s mouth, it’s just — it was really difficult,” Adrienne said.
For Adrienne, the fear went beyond physical recovery.
“He is such a special kid, and losing that piece of it — losing his ability to be himself and to let other people see that — is the thing that keeps me up at night,” she said.
