I was wheeled through in to a tiny little room full of drugs and chemical concoctions, some of which were going to help save my life. I cannot remember the anaesthetists name, but she was a very young, pretty looking girl. She held my hand as I went under and told me to think of a place where I would like to be right now where I felt safe and calm. Oddly enough I thought of Brazil, not Sam and the kids, where I had spent 6 months with living with Shamans in 2004 before I’d had Inky, right by the beach with virgin rainforest directly behind us. Then I remembered that I’d had a dream the previous week that I was finally going to visit Brazil after 12 years of missing this vibrant, beautiful, yet in areas devastated by deforestation country, in a tiny business plane. In the dream I’d forgotten something and had to get off the plane whilst it was flying and the pilot said I’d be able to get back on (even though the plane was still airborne?!?)… Brian woke me before the dream finished.

The next thing I knew I was in recovery. My eyes had trouble focusing at first. Eventually I spotted a clock on the wall and fixed my eyes on that. Only thing was I could see about 4 of them. Not like double vision, quadruple vision. as i couldn’t read the time I have no idea how long it was until I thought, ahh, it’s 130. So 1330. About 3 hours or slightly more/less since I’d been knocked out. I stayed focused on the clock, breathing fresh oxygen through my mask. My body wanted to go back to sleep, but all I could think was OMG IM ALIVE. MUST STAY AWAKE. MUST NOT GO TO SLEEP. WANT TO SEE SAM AND BRIAN AND INKY. WANT MY MUM. I WANT TO GO HOME. I don’t know how long I lay there, a nurse at my side, talking to her. Oral morphine at some point. Then my Mum was allowed in. ‘MUUUUM!!!!’ I introduced, or tried to introduce her to my nurse. Until about 15:00 I kept forgetting her name, although it was SAM!!! And each time, my Mum told me, I would say ‘but how can I forget that name when my partner is called Sam.’ Hehe. Pretty funny. Another thing, Mum made me aware that I was having a blood transfusion through a drip… something I felt icky about, other peoples blood, but in an emergency… Sam told us it was my own blood they had salvaged, cleaned up and were putting back in. WOW 🙂 Mum left for a bit, and I lay there till 16:30 chatting with lovely Sam. I actually felt like I’d made a new friend. Maybe everyone is, or appears, that kind and angelic though when you’ve woken with an euphoric feeling of gratitude, marvelling gratefulness at still being alive and allowed home at some point and to be reunited with my sweet family. I wondered if I’d ever see her again.
So, at 16:30 a male nurse called SAMMY wheels me back to my ward. My Mum comes to say hi for a bit and make sure I’m OK. Then leaves. I have called Sam already and he arranged for my Dad to have Brian. Actually, my Dad was going to have Brian anyways so I could go to the baby shower with just my big girly Inky and also give Dad’s girlfriend, Kate, a lift over. Nonetheless, Sam arrived around 6pm with fish and chips (he’d told me this is what him and Brian ate and I got a real craving for it). Up until this point I had drunk about 10 glasses of ice cold water (I was parched!) and not eaten yet. Saying that, I did get some hospital soup, potato and chive, which was cooling on my little hospital table when Sam arrived. I tried to eat some fish and chips, which was only luke warm by the time it was delivered, but it hurt my throat to swallow. I guess where I’d had a pipe down my throat when I was unconscious. Also I’d been on my phone a helluva lot talking to a good friend of mine, telling her what had happened, texting friends/family etc. I was buzzing with joy the whole time. I felt pure love and gratitude for the hospital staff (or life saving angels, I thought of them now, for they had saved my life), who had so changed my opinion of this hospital I could only ever associate with bad memories and the deep scars left by it. And now… I felt like something I didn’t realise needed healing had been healed. I thought if ever I need to take either of the kids to A&E/hospital for anything (god forbid), I would be OK with it now and not associate hopsitals (especially Worthing) as a place of sorrow. So, as I was saying, the fish and chips were a bit of a let-down, but I have to say – and even the hospital staff said no one had ever said this – the soup was perfect. Slightly salty, creamy and easy to swallow. I asked for more…

Sam stayed until around 20:30pm. At 9 my last blood test was done (I’d had one immediately upon waking in recovery – the results were already better than when I’d come in in the morning) and then the night staff came on. From here on I didn’t enjoy my stay as much. Where I’d drunk so much water, I was going for regular pee’s. I done 3 with help, the last 2 I walked myself to the loo, passing the desk of nurses. My blood results were meant to be back by 21:45. Every time I passed the desk I asked for my results after 21:45. They tried to coax me in to staying the night saying I needed rest and sleep. I couldn’t. The lady opposite me was off her face on drugs and kept on asking for more, on top of that surrounded by moaning groaning people, whistling nurses who feigned cheerfulness but got snappy when asked a question… and then hearing A&E staff who came up to the ward saying they would have to start wheeling patients up here because they were full down there, and also that they were short 2 beds… then a couple patients arriving from A&E. How was I meant to rest, plus I had my heart set on going to my Dads.My Mum and Inky were waiting to come and pick me up. At 23:30 I’d had enough of waiting. I went to the desk and said that I would be discharging myself if they didn’t get my results in the next 10 minutes. I had them in my hand in 2. All good 🙂 I messaged my Mum to come and get me. Yippeeee!!! I now had to get dressed alone. The staff were pretty unhelpful. T’was slightly laboursome but I managed and didn’t even get escorted out by anyone. Walked myself down 2 flights of stairs and several long corridors to the great outdoors. INNNNNKYYYY!!! My big girly. So happy to see each other, holding hands the whole way to my dads. I would have stayed at Mums, but I was worried her/our gorgeous dalmation would jump on me, hurting my fresh scars. I was glad I had seen Inky too as I had been worried about how she was feeling. She was going back to my mums to stay as there wasn’t enough space at Dad’s for all of us. My Mum would drop her to my Dads in the morning.



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