They had to put, what they called a ‘central line’,(which sounds more like a friggin underground tube route), into my jugular, and then I was taken to Intensive Care by an in-house ambulance, because it was in a different part of the hospital. The whole escapade was scary, especially, when I suddenly realised that it WAS real and not one of my hallucinogenic nightmares. Everyone, and everything, around me became ‘blurred’, and the whole episode, reminded me of when I first had my accident, and wasn’t certain what was going on around me, when I had, eventually, woken up. My mum and family, i.e. Barry and the kids, had to be told.
When I regained consciousness (or so it seemed), in Intensive Care, I thought what a horrible place it was. It was like a large, dark bleak warehouse, with lots of open space, and loads of machinery and nurses fussing. I’m not sure how long I was there, but I couldn’t define whether it was day or night, and wasn’t even sure if there were any windows in the place. There didn’t appear to be any natural light whatsoever!! Dont ask, even I dont know… it was all very confusing. I had obviously been transferred to this department where they had taken care of me… at the time I didn’t realise it was intensive care and to be very honest, in my `very warped` mindset, it felt like what can only be described as the inside of a morgue… or at least, how I would imagine it.
There were about 4 nurses that I could see, and the nurses station was right next to the bed. It was hard to tell what was happening, it was as if the conscious side of my brain was fighting against my sub-conscious and I couldn’t distinguish what was real and what wasn’t. I wanted to believe the nurses were asking me for a cup of tea, but I wasn’t sure, then they were telling me that my friend Simon had been to the ward, and left a present for me, and to tell me that he would be in sometime after Christmas. It was after them telling me about Simon, that I realised I was awake and that this was real; if I had missed Mr MacKenzies visit then I realised that something definitely wasn’t right… not to have woken up for that! I asked the nurses how bad it was, and they told me that I was over the worst, but that they were keeping me in for observations. Apparently, on the Monday afternoon when the last thing I could remember was the doctors and nurses fussing, I had been rushed to Intensive Care with suspected near kidney failure; there was some damage sustained to the liver, but thankfully, there was enough strong healthy tissue to help. I had caught Septicaemia, which is an infection of the blood which develops in a wound, and there was an intense volume of bacteria located in the abdomen. My God, I knew I wasn’t feeling well, but I hadnt expected that. The nurse said that I had been with them since that Monday 16th Dec, and it was now Friday 20th December!!! Jesus, that’s scary!
The next thing I knew I was being whisked away from intensive care in an ambulance to the maxillo-facial department (dentist), in other words, to get my bloody tooth out! I couldn’t believe it! they were actually going to subject me to another flippin ordeal… they did it though… my mouth was bloody sore, sore, painfully, painfully, sore and I felt the whole damn thing, right down to the nerve. I was shaking with the pain, whilst the dentist’s assistant was helping me wash out my bloody mouth, then before I left the they gave me some painkillers… I needed STRONG ones, ones that could knock me out!!
Oh, no, I felt awful and I had the kids arriving on Sunday. Thanks God, your timings CRAP! (I hope Mary ends up having to have a natural birth, with NO GAS, PETHIDENE, EPIDURAL OR CAESAREAN SECTION!!) available!!! . . . . OR MIRACLES!!!
When I got back to the ward, travelling in style again, in an in-house ambulance; just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse… it did. There was a black, foreign, doctor waiting for me, and I didn’t want any `foreign`, pidgeon-english, black man touching me! My God, those bastarding turks had done a good job on me hating all black foreign guys! Anyway, I calmed down, and it turned out he was there to take my coil out, so I didn’t complain, because I had been through so much anyway, what was gonna be so difficult about opening my legs for a black foreign guy, they had been `forced` once, so at least this time it was with my consent. My God, that was soo crude, but that’s the way I felt… all my dignity had gone out the window. He was actually very gentle and it was over in no time, and I can honestly say, I have never been so happy to see my little bed space waiting for me… it was like coming home after some horrendous, treacherous escapade!
The nurses got me some tea and biscuits, and after that I fell asleep. I wanted to blot out everything that had happened, at least for a couple of hours, to regain some energy for the time with my children. When I woke up it was after teatime, and they had kept me something, but it was a bit crazy giving me biscuits, as I couldn’t eat anything anyway, because of my swollen mouth. Thankfully, the pain had subsided, so the painkillers were obviously working, but my head was ‘whoosey’ (if that’s a word)! It was difficult enough trying to regain my strength and health, without having to ply so much energy into pretending I was OK. I was going to have to be so brave and strong for the kids. The children were arriving on the Sunday 21st, so I tried to ‘recuperate’ on the Saturday, and I must say the staff were superb. I got hot drinks, soup on tap, and just watched telly, and did my usual amount of complaining… talking of complaining, I missed Duncan who had already left to go to Oban to spend Christmas with his family and I hadn’t said goodbye, aah! I contemplated if I should try that little `nip` in the top drawer, but decided against it, and put it right to the back.
On the Sunday I was so excited, waiting to see Barry and the kids, but I wished I had felt better. It was mum’s last visit until Christmas and she wanted it to coincide with Barry and the kids arriving. Mum and Paula got there first. Unfortunately, my ‘disability’, the name which I hate, and something that I am having to come to terms with, did not stop me and Paula disagreeing and arguing. It was over how much the family helps to ensure the children get up here to see me… I said that the family had promised that they would do as much as they could to help out with transport and accommodation, and when Barry was trying to organise the kids to come up in the October week, the family were unable to help, and I just said that it would have been good if maybe the family had been a little bit more helpful’, and she retorted…”its alright for you to lie there, while we do all the running about that you don’t see”—unfortunate choice of words Paula!!! I actually think it was more scathing than that, if my memory serves me correctly, but that was the gist of it. It was a horrible wicked remark and I’m afraid it hurt, because for obvious reasons, I have to be here and I do not need it thrown in my face or be reminded of it—especially by someone in my own family who I love! Well, mum cautioned us both, and we were told to ‘stop it’!, which we did, and just in time as well, because Barry and the kids arrived, and it was so so great to see them. The kids looked all grown up, and I could have hugged them forever.
We all chatted, and the kids argued who could sit on the bed, or on the big corner chair… then mum made an extra fuss of the kiddies, and gave them their Christmas presents from her, and they were delighted. Margaret `darling` was on duty, and she went ahead and made tea and coffee with biccies, for all of us. Mum also, made a fuss of Margaret, which she loved. By this time, me and Paula, had agreed to disagree to keep the peace. After about an hour or so, mum and Paula decided to leave because they wanted to get home in the light, so I said my tearful goodbyes to mum, (and to Paula), and gave them both hugs and Christmas kisses.
I sat for a long time with Barry, whilst Margaret darling took the kids round to see some of the hospital, incorporating a trip to the vending machine so the kids could choose a sweet, and Barry and I could have time for a chat by ourselves. Well, I HAD to tell Barry what had happened over the course of the week, because he had been phoned, and of course he wasn’t sure quite what to do, but he had phoned every night to see how I was, and the staff had advised him that by the weekend I would be back in my own ward, but what they hadn’t said was that I was going to be feeling like shit! Anyway, he
understood, and he was telling me how tired he was, which I understood, as I know Barry’s style of driving… he only stops, when he HAS to and otherwise, just goes for it. The kiddies were too excited to be tired, but we both knew that they were going to become tired at the same time, and get crabby with each other and start arguing… so with that, I agreed with Barry that he should go to the Holiday Inn that they were booked into and get something to eat, and have an early night. When Casey and Mitch came back, I could have spent all night with them. They were soo pleased to see me and I was with them, and I know they were absolutely intrigued by the spinal unit, and the patients in it, and I think it surprised them to see so many young people in wheelchairs or bedbound. I was just disappointed I wasn’t in my wheelchair, which meant I had to stay in bed all the time. Anyway, it was time to go, and I got lots and lots of hugs and kisses, and they left, happy, and looking forward to seeing me tomorrow.
Monday 22nd December
I was soo looking forward to seeing Casey and Mitch, but I was really disappointed that I was feeling ill, and knowing it was going to be hard to stay upbeat.
Well, they arrived around about 12.30, after getting ready and having some breakfast, and by this time, lunch was virtually over in the hospital. They arrived, and it was not long, before Casey wanted to go to the machine, and then Mitch wanted to go as well, so we had to let them go together, and meanwhile, Barry was telling me that he was nearly at the end of his tether already because they had been arguing since they woke up. I actually felt quite sorry for him, and we had to agree that there was a huge amount of pressure on us all, and what they all saw on the surface from me, was not what was going on inside. I felt sick, sore, uncomfortable, knotted, wound up and not at all myself, and I let Barry know that I was on a ‘short fuse’ at the moment as well. But, no matter what, I wasn’t going to spoil the ‘fun’ for the children by letting on I was sick!!
Then, when the children came back, we all started sorting out the presents and seeing what was from who, and the children were counting who had the most—just the usual things that kids do at Christmas, even though it was only the 23 Dec, they still made it special, and Barry didn’t make me feel bad about it once. Later on in the afternoon Barry and Mitch went out to get a Macdonalds, which meant that I had some lovely time on my own with Casey, and we had a peek at some of the presents. She was telling me all about boyfriends, her girlfriends, how often she was allowed out, and what it was like living with Shonah and baby Jamie, and we talked about my ‘disability’ and how she would cope, and she was superb, she promised me she would always look after me—what a wonderful child, and generally we had a good ‘ole girlie time!
When they got back, I was starting to feel very sore and tired, and it wasn’t long before my ‘tetchy’ side reared it’s ugly head. I didn’t want to open presents; I didn’t want to eat; I didn’t want to drink; nothing was good enough, and then I was constantly apologising for being the way I was, then I was complaining to the nurses that I needed some stronger painkillers because I was so uncomfortable, and before she could do that, she had to get a doctor to prescribe them… so after 2 hours, which was really only about half an hour, the doc arrived and asked Barry to take the children outside whilst he pulled the curtain over in order to examine me. I was grouchy to the doc (whats new?), and told him about my horrendous week, and he examined my mouth and could see where the operation to the tooth had been performed and agreed that I should get something for that, and incidentally I needed something for my spasms, which were going ten to the dozen because I was stressed, and in the end he decided to prescribe some diazapam to relax the spasms, and extra Ibuprofen for my sore mouth. I was a flippin wreck!
When they all came back in, we decided to open some of the presents, and we sorted out which ones they were taking back to open Christmas day, and ones to open that day. After their Macdonalds, the children were allowed to open their presents from me. Casey loved her top shop and boots vouchers (which she had asked for specifically), and Mitch loved his FIFA 2003 PS2 game and SELBXS, and they both got HELMETS for their bikes. I had also given them both £50 to spend on whatever they wanted. I gave the presents for Shonah and the baby to Barry, and he opened his presents from me, and in his usual fashion, showed no excitement, but thanked me for his Nelly Furtado CD and silk scarf!! Yee bloody ha! Personally, I think they were all genuinely happy with their presents. They wanted me to open mine, so I put on a brave face and proceeded to open them. It was wonderful, to see their faces, hoping in anticipation that I was going to like them. I swear if it had only been a pair of knickers, I would have been delighted. As it was, they had got me a lovely set of 2 nighties, some bedsocks, a ‘special’ candle from Mitch, that I was supposed to light when I was feeling down, and it would cheer me up and make me think of them, and hope!, and a silver chain with a cross from Casey, which I put on straight away. There were other little things, e.g. a wooly hat (I love my hats and candles), make-up and a box of maltesers plus a selection box, and a little teddy from Shonah and the babe. The presents were beautiful. I absolutely adored mine, and they loved theirs. It ended up being a wonderful afternoon, and before they headed back to the hotel, they wanted to order something special for our ‘Christmas’ supper (really teatime), for us all to have together. So we got a take-away menu from the nurses, and ordered in pizza, chips, coleslaw and a baked potato for Barry. The children were starting to become a bit restless, and I could see that Barry was starting to struggle to stay patient, so the food arrived just in time, before there were any arguments.
We all sat together, and did a toast with cups of coke (mine diet) to Christmas, as this was our ‘Christmas pizza dinner’, and you know what, it was better than any turkey!! I could hardly eat anything, and Barry isn’t a great take-away fan, but the kids enjoyed it and that was all that mattered to me. When we were finished, Barry cleared everything up, and told the kids to get all their presents together, and then said that they would have to get back, before the children started ‘knocking lumps’ out of each other, as they were starting to get restless and tired. I understood, plus I felt awful anyway, and was sore, so it was a good time for me as well. We said our tearful goodbyes and thank yous, and I hugged them so hard I thought they might have trouble breathing!!
Anyway, I knew I was seeing them on Tuesday, before they went, so I thanked Barry for making our ‘alternative christmas’ such fun, and that under the circumstances, in a million years I wouldn’t have believed that I could have enjoyed the day, especially with the way I was feeling, and yet it was ‘up there’ with the best. I love the kids so much, and Barry, well of course I do (but not ‘like that’)?! It was a bit rowdy at times, but on reflection, it had been a successful day, OUR Christmas day, and Barry had excelled at keeping his temper in tact, and I had managed to get over my ‘grouchiness’, for the sake of the children. It wasn’t easy, but I had done it. I must say, I was shattered, and after they left, even though I was feeling soo bad I fell into a very ‘contented’ sleep.
Thank you God, for a lovely ‘mock’ Christmas day, and look after my precious children always, and everyone I love, especially Barry and mum, who have gone out of their way to make my christmas special.
I did open my christmas present from my mum, and it was a beautiful chain with diamonds on it, and I was told on good authority, i.e. by the nurses that they were called ‘hot’ diamonds. Mum had told me that she got it in America, and I must say, it was in beautiful presentation case, with a bracelet and earrings to match. How wonderful and thoughtful was that? I love my mum so much. From some other members of the family I received lots of varied `smelly stuff`, which I do love, and some chocolates (which I shouldn’t but I probably will, finish within about 2 days). Oh God, there was a chocolate orange (which my taste buds can’t get enough of) and a huge box of `heroes` . . . I was in ‘chocolate heaven’, and this is coming from someone who didn’t even have a sweet tooth before the accident! Looks
like my waistline is gonna become non existence soon, and not because it is gonna be so small… . Oh no, quite the opposite, my shape is going to be absolutely bulbous! Ho ho ho!
Well, my Christmas started with a drink of sherry or wine… I choose wine, I know I shouldn’t have, but for god sake, whose gonna find out, and trust me at twelve oclock in the morning, with the two other people gargling through their tracheotomies and Duncan away, there wasn’t a lot of Christmas spirit going on in this ward accept for the one I had, and it WAS only one! Actually, I could have had a bit of a laugh with ghosts of Christmases past… I was in the right place, but to no avail… just the two nurses that brought the wine… and because I was on my own they decided they would ‘spoil’ me and gave me another one… dear, dear, they obviously didn’t have any notes to say that I shouldn’t drink alcohol, so maybe I should play the lonely card, and I might even get it stretched to a third! Well, they never took the bait, they just sat with me for a while, and it was actually really nice, they knew I had had a terrible week the week before, and I still wasn’t right, and even if there was a massive party in the hospital, I wouldn’t have been well enough to enjoy it, but I suppose the wine actually had a little `kick` to it and I enjoyed it, purely for medicinal purposes of course, then I found myself telling them about my pressies, how much I missed the kids, and it was nice just to have some company and to talk about stuff in general. It was good of them to take the time, but they had to go round the rest of the ward with the goodies, and said they would be back. I waited and waited and they never came back, then I must have fallen asleep… so that’s how exciting `my` Christmas Eve had been.
One Split Second Page 29