Lying in my very uncomfortable hospital bed, ( a nurse told me it was a broken spring) it did occur to me that most things happen for a reason, but for the life of me I couldn’t think what that might be, yet.
An operation had been needed on 3 vertebra in the lumber region of the spine, which by all accounts had gone wrong. It was now 8 ops later, plus 6 MRI’s, a stint on life-support for 3 weeks, gangrene and lets not forgot the super-bug, but I am still alive and thank goodness the brain still working.
It must have been around the tenth week, when that I had that thought, of things happening for a reason, because up until then, I was floating in and out of consciousness. High on pethidine, so I was “meeting” long gone relatives, going to exotic islands, planning my escape from this place, which sometimes was a prison and sometimes a home for the mentally challenged, which at that point I probably was! We all have those moments….don’t we?
One of the best “strange event’s” was when the Nurses Station turned into a Night Club or meeting place, lights, music, people….and yet a few moments later it was the nurses station again. Oh yes and then there was that strange black tent in the middle of a field, it was shaped like a Teepee tent. So let’s be honest, we have all had those fleeting visions of a different “world”. Be it one too many headache pills, one too many drinks or your first splif. I have lived for 75 years, so shocked I am not. Most of the time, I think I was enjoying every moment. But not so for my family.
My poor family, after weeks of visiting an inert person, they now had to listen to my whispering demands that they should get the police to break me out of “here”, that I had devised an escape route. Insisting that the bed would easily roll down the stairs, through the doors to the sea. Which, at that time I was positive it was the Irish Sea, even though I am actually 700 kilometre’s from the nearest ocean and a single storey hospital! Anyway, enough of that, the 10 weeks turned into 18 weeks, and only then did I come home, even though the Doctor’s were reluctant but I am pretty sure the Nurses and Carers rejoiced.
Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you, I could no longer do anything for myself, I could not walk or comb my hair, which was falling out by the handful, because 10 weeks of anti-biotics’ are not good for the hair. I was a large blob propped up in bed with about six pillows and a pyramid thing at the bottom of the bed. Well, this will not do I really have to organise myself, so that is how I met the Amazing Alex, she was the only physio who would do home visits.