Hi, my name is Scott McNabb, and I’m writing from the heart for my daughter, Hannah.
On July 31st, 2025, our world turned upside down. Hannah had to undergo emergency brain surgery at Vanderbilt University Medical Center to place a VP shunt—a life-saving procedure meant to relieve the dangerous intracranial pressure caused by Cerebral Hypertension Disorder. This came after a terrifying week filled with tonic seizures, intense vertigo, unbearable pain, dangerously low blood pressure, and worsening neurological symptoms. She spent nearly two weeks in the hospital.
At first, it felt like a miracle. As soon as the post-surgery pain began to fade, Hannah told us her constant headaches were gone. Her nausea, vertigo, sensory overload—all of it—had vanished. For three or four glorious days, we saw her smile without wincing. We dared to believe she might finally have a chance at a normal life.
But then… everything came rushing back. The pain, the crushing fatigue, the nausea, the sensory issues—and even the seizures. Our hearts sank. We had thought the surgery was the fix she desperately needed, and now we’re back to searching for answers.
Hannah’s shunt is adjustable, with settings from 1 (highest drainage) to 8 (lowest). It’s currently set at 7. We’ll need to make multiple 460-mile round trips to Nashville for adjustments, each time followed by a CT scan. It’s non-invasive, but it’s exhausting for her and financially overwhelming for us. Doctors are also exploring whether she might have a cerebral fluid leak—something that can cause her brain pressure to swing dangerously high or low.
We’re holding onto hope that adjusting the shunt will help. But this means more travel, more scans, more medical bills—and truthfully, we’re already struggling to keep up. Gas, food, prescriptions, hospital fees, and surgery costs have piled up, and while we’ll do whatever it takes for Hannah, we can’t do it alone.
Hannah has fought this invisible battle for nearly five years. Every single day, she lives with relentless migraines, exhaustion, nausea, body pain, focal seizures, and back pain so severe it keeps her bedridden. On top of that, she is mildly autistic, with extreme sensitivity to sounds, smells, and lights—something as simple as a door shutting can trigger panic and worsen her symptoms. She also suffers from papilledema, a swelling of the optic nerve that can cause blindness.
For years, her pain was dismissed by doctors who wrongly labeled it as anxiety. It wasn’t until one neurologist truly listened that we finally got the diagnosis of Intracranial Hypertension and were referred to specialists at Vanderbilt.
Now, recovery is not just about healing from surgery—it’s about rebuilding after years of being unheard and untreated.
We are humbly asking for your help to get Hannah the care she needs. Your donations will go directly toward:
Travel expenses for repeated trips to Vanderbilt in Nashville
Medical bills not covered by insurance
Prescription medications.
Ongoing treatments and follow-up visits.
Every single dollar helps—truly. And if you can’t donate, please share Hannah’s story so more people can see her fight. She’s 24 years old but has never had the chance to live like other young adults. She’s bedridden most days and relies on a wheelchair for longer distances.
If you know me, you know I’ve never been one to ask for financial help. But this is for my baby girl. And as a father, I will do anything to give her the life she deserves.
From the very bottom of our hearts—thank you for reading, sharing, and caring. We are almost halfway to our goal for donations! Thank you all!
— Scott McNabb & Family




