Guest Serial: My Recovery (Part Thirteen)

This is the thirteenth part of a guest serial, in 490 words.

When Mum came to see me, I couldn’t stop crying and was begging, somehow, she understood what I was trying to say despite having the breathing tube in my mouth, for her to take me home. She tried to keep calm, but you could see the frustration of not being able to help me was really getting to her. All Mum kept saying was, “You have to stay here, I can’t provide all these machines that are helping you”.

“But when can I go home?”, I was sobbing by this point. “I don’t know”, she replied. Little did I know, this was the beginning of a 9-month hospital and rehabilitation stay.

I got so angry at Mum because she wouldn’t take me home. But I know now that I was scared and simply didn’t understand what was happening. I’m sorry Mum.

Again, I kept telling Mum that I loved her, but was now saying it every 10 seconds because I didn’t know what was going to happen. She continued to say it back to me and each time it was said, I thought it would be the last.

I always got teary when Mum and Ewan had to go home. I didn’t want to be on my own. I tried to seek comfort and reassurance from the nurses when I started to panic. I did ask one nurse if I was dying. I didn’t know what to feel when she replied, “Yes”.

To be told I was dying, to this very day it still gets to me, it made me think about what I had achieved in life. It dawned on me that I had achieved nothing. I was never able to be true to myself, be myself around others, I never chased my dreams. I always gave up too easily. But I knew I got one thing right.


He brought me out of my shell, around him I could be myself. He made me feel loved. The months prior to being admitted, all we did was argue. He struggled to come to terms with how fast my health was deteriorating, which is understandable. One time, I did ask him if he saw me for who I was anymore, and he said “No.” That broke me.

I felt more awake during the night, more aware of my surroundings. I prayed throughout the night, praying for strength to survive this. I laid there, thinking about how many times Mum had told me she loved me, and I thought, “If I die, then I will die happy knowing Mum told me she loved me”.

I also told myself, “Ewan will find someone else, someone better than me, someone who is normal, he will be better off without me”. But it broke me even more knowing I might never see him again.

I wanted to be able to tell him that I loved him, in case it was the last time.

18 thoughts on “Guest Serial: My Recovery (Part Thirteen)

  1. Nurses tend to tell you you’re dying if they think you can cope with it. Perhaps the nurse thought she was a strong character. Also if you are dying you do need to be told, so that you can sort out your affairs.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Even when my mum was unconscious and unresponsive, a nurse told me she was dying, and suggested I tell her that too, in case she could hear me. I thought that was strange, but he said “she has a right to know, I will tell her if you want me to”.
      Best wishes, Pete.

      Liked by 2 people

      1. Yes, an individual has the right to know. I knew my own mum wouldn’t have been able to cope with being told something like that, so I didn’t tell her and neither did the medical staff. I remember asking my oncologist how long I had left after all my major surgeries and 6 weeks of external beam radiotherapy. She said about 30 – 35 years and then I’d probably die from something else!

        Liked by 3 people

  2. Hmm, that nurse really shouldn’t have told her she was dying, whether true or not…but perhaps that was a hallucination.. At this point I’m thinking multiple organ failure….and depending on the number of organ systems involved and the severity, with the right treatment and care, it IS actually possible to recover, so I MIGHT be on the right track

    Liked by 2 people

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