Guest Serial: My Recovery (Part Twelve)

This is the twelfth part of my guest serial, in 919 words.

The day after I came home, I woke up with a horrible burning feeling in my stomach, maybe I caught something from being in hospital? It wasn’t long until I began vomiting bile. I’d never experienced this before so it did freak me out. I actually have a fear of vomiting and, each time in the past that I have been sick, I usually say afterwards, “Well, I hope that’s got rid of my fear now!” But it never did.

Once I had been sick, I did feel more myself. I don’t remember any noticeable changes or showed any other symptoms. Although, I remember falling asleep at lunchtime on the Sunday.

The following is spoken by my Mum,

“You slept for hours, which was normal. It was around teatime that I tried to wake you, as I had made you some toast, I knew you wouldn’t have wanted much to eat as you’d been sick earlier in the morning. You woke up briefly and tried to take a small bite, but you fell back asleep. I knew, deep down, that something wasn’t right.

At night, you started getting agitated and began throwing your arms about. I phoned 111 to ask for advice, after explaining how you’d been feeling that day, they advised me to give you paracetamol because they said it sounds like you had a fever. You managed to take 2 tablets.

We noticed that your clothes were wet, you’d had an accident. So, Ewan and I cleaned you and changed you into a fresh set of clothes.

Later on, that night, there was still no sign of improvement. I phoned 111 again and they sent a doctor out to come and see you. He tried to get a reading of your oxygen levels and blood pressure, but he couldn’t get a clear reading. The doctor came to the conclusion that it was best to get you to hospital, to get checked over.

Paramedics arrived and they tried to get you to stand, but you just fell to the floor. You were carried out on a stretcher.”

The following is spoken by Ewan,

“When you were sleeping in your recliner, and getting agitated, I held you in my arms as you were trying to throw your arms about. It seemed like you were having some sort of fit or seizure. I knew something was wrong, but I know you, I knew you were going to pull through.

I came with you in the ambulance, to King’s Lynn, I was there with you all the way.

I continued to stay with you, until the early morning. Doctors and nurses were flitting in and out. They had to put you in the resuscitation area, only because there were no other beds available. It broke my heart seeing you like that, but I knew you were a fighter.

Mum came up in the morning to stay with you, and I went home. I hated leaving you but I promised you I would come back.”

The following is spoken by Mum,

“Ewan got in touch with me to say you had been admitted to Critical Care.

On the Monday, we came to see you, the nurses had made you comfortable. They kept a close eye on your oxygen levels and blood pressure. But over Tuesday and Wednesday, there was still no change.

On Thursday, the hospital rang me, at lunchtime, to advise me they were going to put you on a breathing machine because you were getting very agitated and they needed you to rest, to give your body a chance to survive whatever was doing this to you.

As soon as I got off the phone, I came up to be with you. When I saw you, you had an oxygen mask on, you were throwing your arms about and rocking your head from side to side. The nurses said they were going to put you in an induced coma, to let your body rest.

Doctors took me into the relatives’ room and told me they did not know what was wrong or what was causing this, but they did mention it could be a type of Mitochondrial disease.

After you were asleep, they let us see you. It was very upsetting to see you laying there, with 6 different machines around you.

The doctors didn’t know if you would pull through. They moved you to the other end of the ward as that was where the patients, who are in more critical condition, stay.

A chaplain came in to say prayers for you, he went to your beside and prayed.

We thought we were going to lose you.

Jill and I stayed in the visitors’ room for a few nights, so we could be close to you. The nurses kept you stable.

You developed Pneumonia. You were put on antibiotics. You were also on dialysis.

They tried to remove the breathing tube on the Sunday, but you couldn’t cope without it. They were weaning you off the sedatives that kept you asleep. We had bought up your microphone and headset, which you could hear through sometimes, to see if that would bring you round. I said your name and you opened your eyes.

You woke up on Mother’s Day, that was the best present any mother could have wished for. You knew we were there.”

I woke up to realise I was in hospital; I had no recollection of what had happened since I fell asleep on the Sunday before…

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