WARNING: DO NOT CONTINUE READING IF GRAPHIC IMAGES OF INJURIES WOULD UPSET YOU.
Fri/Sat 17/18th October
The ambulance crew member in the back with me was very chatty, which helped with what seemed like an eternity to get to the hospital.
Straight into the trauma unit and attached to a monitor, not that I could see the instrument panel, which was a little frustrating as it would have helped to pass the time. I’m guessing it was a little over an hour before I was trundled off for a CT scan to check my neck and back. All seemed OK and it was a relief to have the head blocks removed.
From the CT scan room I was taken to resuss. This is where David found me on his arrival. Shortly after that I was moved to a waiting area for x-rays. David took a few photos of my elbow as I couldn’t see the injury (see below) and after about half-an-hour we were both taken to x-ray. The process wasn’t pleasant. In order to get the correct angle the technician wanted me to twist the arm into a position that was very painful, but I reckoned it was worth it if that enabled the doctors to see what was going on. The downside was the faintness it induced, and the technician decided to call a halt and I was trundled back to resuss. I was monitored again and left to recover. As my blood pressure had dropped to 63/40 I was laid flat and as it rose to more normal levels so I was raised up on my trolley, little by little – it was a slow process.
Eventually, I was feeling well enough to go back to x-ray where the process and my reactions repeated themselves plus nausea. But it turns out they got the x-rays they needed and I went back to resuss, again.
The doctors decided to keep me in for the night and once they’d found a bed David left as he had to drive back to Lincoln. Thanks mate.
At around 2am Saturday morning a doctor woke me up to clean the elbow injury. To say it stung would be an understatement.
The next morning, after breakfast, I was told the medical team would pay a visit to assess the situation. Eventually they turned up, checked the wound and pronounced me fit enough to go home. However, this wasn’t as easy as I thought it would be. I’d intended catching a bus into Sheffield and from there another to Chesterfield – not allowed. The hospital couldn’t let me do that in case anything happened during the journey. They wanted to know if someone could pick me up. David had returned to Lincoln, I have one daughter in London and the other in Dundee, so a lift was out of the question. In the end a nurse organised a taxi.
This was one of the worst car journeys I’ve experienced in a long time: too close, too fast, in a nutshell.
Still, I was home.