3 Little Angels part 2

"Just try and stand up Mr. Freer". Here he is again. "Or at least sit up a bit so we're making some progress". That's the doctor talking, which he's good at. His bedside manner is slipping though, obviously a busy man and one awkward bugger who, in his eyes, wont even try. It's the listening part of his job he needs to work on. I've told him it hurts, hurts like stars coming into my field of vision, hurts like if i go one inch further i'm going to pass out, hurts so bad I really want to punch the ignorant shitbag just for doubting me. He's not listening though, I presume he thinks I'm milking it, or that I'm just a whingeing little wimp!

I woke up, obviously! I woke up and there they were, my 3 little angels! I didn't like the fearful look they gave me but I was yet to see a mirror! I did like the warmth, the tears, the relief  and the love they showed though. I was in intensive care and they were a bit worried for a while. I'd been put under the knife, my internal organs having taken exception to wearing a seatbelt! Spleen ruptured, liver lacerated and intestines partly removed (2 metres cut out) and then they'd stapled me back together and hoped for the best.

Now the doctor is over me and i'm trying to explain, "it's my back you see, are you sure you've x-rayed it"? "This patient is recovering from an RTA and we're trying to get him to sit up". He's got an audience of some students and a few nurses this morning. "Only, the thing is, he's not very responsive, are we Mr Freer"? If i could get up mate, I'd be up wouldn't I, kicking the shit into you... "Can you please just check the X..." "We're going to have to move him onto a ward soon and hopefully he'll try a bit harder for us then". And he's off, turned tail and walked away.

I've had a few visitors now, and they all wince when they see me. I finally get to see a mirror and see why! My face is basically a bruise, a bruise with a few cuts thrown in! i've got a bad gash down my left leg too but that's the least of my worries! Kieran's been down to say sorry, he got a broken arm (yup, that was it!). His parents have popped in to promise me any help needed (turns out their boy was not insured.... turned out they didn't really want to help). Family have been, my Dad, my sister, happy to see I made it but concerned where I will go from here. I've had to give up the flat as I'm not going to be working anytime soon and Sue, the ex, graciously offers to put me up and maybe even 'give it a go' again.

It's one of the nurses (isn't it always!) who finally listens, days have passed now. She sees the strain, sees how I nearly faint with the effort of just lifting my weight and she asks me where exactly it hurts. The next morning I get sent for a "most unorthodox" (tosser!) 2nd x-ray and as I'm being wheeled out and back up to my ward I see them rushing past me with a brown A4 envelope. Here he is, Doctor fucking Oblivious, "Don't move Mr Freer" he says! Don't move? Don't try and sit up? Don't try and go for stroll doc!!? "If you move now, you may never walk again"! Wow, there's a sentence to make you pay attention, the guy isn't even acknowledging the irony of his sudden concern but he's got my interest and I'm not moving!

It was the 2nd vertebra up on my backbone that was broken, all pretty closely tied up with the spinal cord apparently. I've gone from whingeing pain in the arse to star patient in a matter of minutes and they have me lying down now whilst they shape and construct me a full body cast. Not full as in the 'mummy' sense but full as in my entire upper body covered with my little legs popping out underneath and my battered head poking out the top! They finish patching it all up and leave me to dry for a while and then my nurse is back, the listener, who, as it turns out has listened to my (nicotine yearning) appeals again. She's armed with a wheelchair and a single Benson and Hedges! I think that cigarette was possibly the nicest or most satisfyingly appreciated of my entire life!

What a job those nurses do, juggling egos and idiots, dealing with abuse and the obtuse and yet still there, day after day saving lives and giving, always giving. She will not have got any credit but i know it was her who had a word in the right ear to get me the 2nd x-ray and so it's to her, and to nurses in general (I even went and married one..!) that I am most thankful.

There's not much more story from the hospital. I got a new doctor, guess the old one was too busy! I had an eye watering experience when they wanted to examine my urinary tract with a camera... ouch! It, and me, thankfully all started working properly though and time started its' healing. I got to the point where, a few weeks in, i noticed that i wasn't actually doing anything that i couldn't do at 'home' (I didn't have one of course, but still!). Just taking pills and resting was all I did and so I discharged myself, the body cast was doing its thing and I wasn't going to spend 3 months in the hospital bored shitless while it did it.

And so I discharged myself into the care of my ex, probably not my greatest plan ever but that's a different story again!!