SCIENCE EPISODE

They Found an Aneurysm In My Brain:

My MRI Story

I want to share something a bit personal today.

A couple of years ago, I decided to do a full health checkup — not because anything was wrong, but out of curiosity. I just wanted peace of mind, to catch anything early (like cancer), and to feel like I was on top of my health. So I signed up for one of those full-body MRI scans.

I thought it would be cool to know. But what actually happened was… a bit intense.

How a full body MRI scans works

So, quick science moment — how do MRIs actually work?

An MRI (Magnetic Resonance Imaging) like a magical camera that can see inside your body without touching it. But instead of using regular light, like your phone camera does, it uses magnets and radio waves.

Here’s how it works, step by step:

1) When you lie down inside the MRI machine, you're entering a giant magnet.

This magnet is super strong. If you compare it to a fridge magnet, it’s about 5,000 times stronger. But unlike a fridge magnet, you can turn the MRi magnet on and off.

2) Your body is made up of trillions of tiny particles called atoms, and many of them are hydrogen atoms (especially because your body is mostly water–and water is hydrogen + oxygen). These hydrogen atoms are a bit like tiny spinning tops, and the big magnet makes them all line up in the same direction.

3) Once your hydrogen atoms are all lined up, the machine sends radio waves to them. It’s like giving them a gentle nudge or "push," and they start spinning in a different way, like they’re wobbling around.

4) When the radio waves stop, the hydrogen atoms slowly go back to their original lined-up positions. As they do, they give off little signals, like tiny echoes. The MRI machine "listens" to these signals.

5) The MRI machine collects all those signals and uses them to create detailed images of the inside of your body. Different tissues (like muscles, fat, and organs) give off different signals, so the machine can tell them apart and create a clear picture.

The cool thing about MRI is that it doesn’t use any harmful radiation, like X-rays or CT scans do. It just relies on magnets and radio waves, making it a super safe way to look inside your body and see what’s going on.

The scan was easy… but then came The Call

So there I was, lying in the MRI machine, headphones on, casually watching a documentary. It felt like no big deal.

Then a few weeks later, I got the results. They sent me my brain scan (which looked really cool). But then… the doctor said something that made my blood run cold.

“We found an aneurysm in your brain."

Ummm… WHAT.

The stress of “knowing”

Honestly, the moment they told me, I almost passed out. Suddenly, I knew there was this thing inside my head that could — maybe — kill me. But also, maybe not.

What do you even do with that information?

What even is an aneurysm?

If you’re like me, hearing “aneurysm” immediately makes you think of strokes and sudden death. But here’s what I learned:

  • An aneurysm is like a tiny balloon or bulge in a blood vessel.

  • It’s a weak spot where the blood vessel wall isn’t as strong as it should be.

  • If it stays intact, nothing happens.

  • If it ruptures, that’s when things get dangerous — it can cause bleeding in the brain (a hemorrhage), which is often life-threatening.

The stats? About 3.2% of people have an unruptured aneurysm (that’s about 1 in 30 people), and most never know it. Ruptured aneurysms are much rarer: about 10 per 100,000 people per year. (read study)

Mine was a small 3x4mm pouch on my left internal carotid artery, behind my eyes. The technical term? Supraclinoid segment aneurysm. Not something you ever want to hear about your own brain.

Getting answers (and feeling super alone)

The company that did my scan didn’t exactly shine here. They said they’d refer me to a specialist, but they never followed up. No check-ins. No support. I don’t have some fancy medical team on speed dial, so I felt completely alone and panicked.

I ended up asking around, reaching out to doctor friends, and finally getting an appointment with a specialist — after waiting three more stressful weeks.

When I saw the specialist, they kind of side-eyed me for doing a full-body MRI in the first place (because, as they said, “When you look, you find”). But honestly? I was so glad I did.

The next step: an angiogram

The next step was to figure out whether the aneurysm needed to be treated. Sometimes they can block off the bulge with a little coil, preventing rupture. But sometimes, the risks of treatment are actually higher than just leaving it alone.

To decide, they sent me for an angiogram — a procedure where they snake a tiny tube through your arm (or leg) up into your brain, inject dye, and then take super precise X-rays of your blood vessels.

Was it stressful? Yep. But I really wanted answers.

The verdict: leave it alone (but keep watching)

After all the tests, the conclusion was: my aneurysm is small enough and stable enough that the risk of trying to fix it is higher than the risk of leaving it as-is.

I get an MRI done once a year to make sure it hasn’t grown. And so far, so good.

Some people can have much bigger ones, which are more likely to rupture. The smaller it is, the lower the risk of rupture.

And the rupture is really the danger here. If it ruptures, then you have a brain hemorrhage (a bleed in your brain) which can lead to death or permanent disability. If the rupture is caught early enough, it can sometimes be treated (currently about 30% of ruptured aneurysms in the US have a positive outcome). (read study)

Would you want to know?

This whole experience left me wondering: Is it better to know? Or not know?

On one hand, I live with the anxiety of knowing there’s something in my brain that could (but probably won’t) rupture. On the other hand, if I ever get a sudden, awful headache (which can be a symptom of a ruptured aneurysm), I’ll know to get to the ER immediately.

I still don’t know if I’m grateful or regretful. But I am glad I can talk about it now — because these things are more common than we think, and no one really tells you what it feels like to find out.