Guest Serial: My Recovery (Part Fifteen)

This is the fifteenth part of a guest serial, in 670 words.

I remember being moved to a bigger ward, it seemed more busier too. It was getting really late at night and a nurse moved a recliner alongside me. They let Mum stay because nobody knew if I was going to make it through the night. She held my hand and I never wanted her to let go.

I kept waking up throughout the night to check if Mum was still next to me holding my hand. Despite everything, I felt safe knowing Mum was holding my hand.

At one point, I woke up to see a nurse talking to Mum. She then wrote on my whiteboard, “You’re being moved to another ward”. I nodded and watched on as the nurse and Mum got everything ready to be moved.

The corridors were really dim at night, but enough light for people to see where they were going. I remember squinting as we entered the lifts, the ceiling lights were so bright.

We arrived in a small square-shaped room and Mum started unpacking my things.

The nurse, who took us there, was talking to Mum for a few minutes, then she started to write on my whiteboard. “They’ve found a room for me to stay in, I will still be nearby”.

I didn’t see Mum for hours after she left, then again it could have been minutes as it felt like time was going so slow.

I remember wearing an oxygen mask, and it was really overwhelming, especially with also having a breathing tube in. When the oxygen mask was taken off, the nurse tried putting a tube up my nose again, and still it was really uncomfortable. She stopped trying after a few attempts.

I know I kept nodding off, I just couldn’t fight the tiredness.

I woke up and was instantly emotional. I knew it was March but I didn’t know the date, I frantically tried working out what day it was, in my head, but I was becoming more stressed out. I was worried that I’d missed Ewan’s birthday. While sobbing, I kept shouting, “I’m sorry!”

I was so relieved when I saw Ewan walk up to my bed, but he was wearing the t-shirt I had got him for his birthday, so that answered my question. I had missed his birthday. The realisation made me cry even more and I kept telling him that I was sorry and that I had let him down. He tried his best to reassure me that it was OK, but I still felt guilty.

Mum arrived shortly after and when she saw me, she started crying. I think it bought back memories of her step-dad (my step-grandad) as he had also had Ataxia, but he died from Pneumonia. Then seeing me in the exact same situation, I guess she thought the same would happen to me. I can’t begin to imagine what it must have been like seeing me like that.

It’s true when people say you don’t know what is around the next corner.

Suddenly, a group of nurses and a short thin woman came up to me. I remember the woman clearly as her glasses were almost bigger than her face. She was actually quite scary looking!

A machine was bought into the room, it looked like a huge robot arm. I thought, “I hope that don’t come anywhere near me, I don’t even want to think what it does!”

And it bloody well was being wheeled over to me.

Eventually, I realised it was a portable X-Ray scanner. I thought, “That’s a clever contraption!”. Once the X-Ray was done, everybody crowded around me again. I looked at Ewan, scared, not knowing what they were going to do. He tried to be strong for me and smiled gently.

The scary looking woman put a new oxygen mask over me. This one seemed more powerful and overwhelming than the last. I was becoming more and more sleepy with each breath I took.

Then it all went black.

15 thoughts on “Guest Serial: My Recovery (Part Fifteen)

All comments welcome

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.