When I found out that I was being moved to a hospital closer to home, I was elated.
However, my first couple of nights there were marred by a number of unfortunate events.
When I found out that I was being moved to a hospital closer to home, I was elated.
However, my first couple of nights there were marred by a number of unfortunate events.
Saying goodbye to the various nurses, doctors and other hospital staff who had spent the last few months looking after me was actually quite emotional. Perhaps because of the small team that worked in the unit I had been kept in, we had all gotten to know each other very well.
I was starting to feel a whole lot more human again and although I was still being monitored for several things (I can’t remember what they were and am not absolutely sure I knew even back then), my doctors were very happy with the progress that was being made…
What’s happening to all my door frames? Do I need to start wearing different underwear?
Once I was let out into the big wide world it became clear that there were a number of unexpected (and often ridiculously simple) issues that I would now be needing to consider.
One thing I was allowed to do now that I was making progress in my recovery, was go out into the real world. That didn’t mean a quick breath of cold air by the doorway of the hotel or a roll around the hospital grounds but actually out into the city…
After weeks of lying in bed, the freedom of getting in a wheelchair had been one of the greatest feelings I’d had in a very long time. However, this had simply been a stepping stone, something to keep me moving forwards until I was ready for what came next…
At the beginning of December of 2012, I had the faintest hope that I might actually be out of the hospital and home for Christmas day. This was despite almost every single person I spoke to telling me it was very unlikely…
Last Sunday, the 20th of November 2022, was the ten year anniversary of my amputation. Although, if I’m being honest, I was asleep for five days after it happened, which means I haven’t technically lived with being an amputee for ten years until the 25th. So, you know, I guess you can put the title of this post down as being “Clickbait”.
A couple of months ago I was asked by the British Heart Foundation to have a chat about some of my story in an episode of their podcast series “The Ticker Tapes”.
I had been asked while in the ICU if I was experiencing any pain where my leg had been. To my shame I had never heard of this side effect of amputation and so, though it was a very strange thing to ask. I shrugged off the suggestion and said that I couldn’t feel a thing but then again, with all the drugs that were being pumped into me I couldn’t feel much of anything…