Home is where the heart is

But its not my home!

Ive been home two days, mum and dad have been great, but Im so really pissed off and angry at everything. I hate having to ask for stuff, for clothes, for money to buy Dylan a magazine, for toiletries, for bloody f**king tampax. I hate not being in control of when I get up, when I sleep, what I do.

And I buggering hate the fact that I'm behaving like a ungrateful princess who cant have her own way.

Today I messed up appointments. I was supposed to go to the RVI to see Sophie, but also had a dressing appointment at the Drs. Dad asked my why I couldn't get myself organised. I cried and run away.

Nothing seems to be going right since I came home. It wasn't supposed to feel like this. My wounds hurt, I'm short and irritable with Dylan. I'm sniping at mum.

Annette came round and it was gorgeous seeing her, but I was tired and strained. I just want to sleep, which I could do in the hospital, but at home I have to be up, doing stuff. Dad had another go at me about not getting stuff sorted "tough love" he calls it, I just feel like I'm not doing enough for them. I want to go back to my little hospital bubble!

Tuesday 28th October

I'm going home tomorrow, or is that today! The last couple of weeks I haven't written cause it was all pretty much the same stuff. But I cant sleep and this hospital room seems to be shrinking. The daily journey pretty much goes like: Breakfast, get up, exercise, get tired, sleep, lunch, exercise, feel depressed, get tired, Dinner, wash and get ready for bed.

The days have been broken up by bad TV, numerous dressing changes, baths, and visitors, lovely, lovely visitors. Vicky, Rebecca, Anna, Sue, Shaun and Joji, Annette, Mum, Dad and Dylan. All bringing respite to the boredom of healing.

I wanted to go home last week, but Mr Valham wouldn't let me because the open wounds on my legs were still a bit sticky and septic, but he relented on Friday and let me have a "weekend pass". One night at home in a real bed was wonderful but it was also hard. And made me realise that maybe I wasn't ready to go home, more importantly it made me question whether mum and dad were ready to have me home.

Although I'm getting up and moving around I still need so much help, I cant move quickly and have little or no strength in my right arm, my fingers still struggle to close and open properly and I'm so tired after doing the most basic things. Angie said today that I have done really well. That when they brought me in, very few of the staff thought I was going to make it through the week. So apparently I'm a testament to my own determination. I actually feel like a freak, a fraud and a failure. But that could be the morphine withdrawal talking, I'm not allowed to go home until I'm off the big stuff, luckily I'm being supplied with my own little cache of take home drugs.....

Saturday 9th October

Im up and moving like you wouldn’t believe, getting out of bed seems so much easier, not simple but I have control again over the middle of my body, its just a wiggle of legs a pull of the stomach muscles an Im up. So far no little accidents!

I bumbled around after breakfast stretching my limbs, pushing my arm to move. No one came, it was busy outside. At 10 I decided to wash myself, thinking that maybe the bath had been cancelled, my leg bandages were falling off so I rang the nurse button. Katherine and Carol were looking after me, but Angie came in. I was due a bath and bandage change but a new patient was really poorly and was holding things up. I told Angie it wasn’t a problem, I know how painful it is when you first come to these wards and how important it is for the staff to get you settled in and comfortable. Angie sorted out my bandages and I sat and read.

Bath! How gorgeous is that word. I got into the bath by myself! The soaking of the skin, the easing of the limbs as they float easily with little pain! Hair washed and I got out of the bath by myself. All decorum gone, bum in the air and belly flapping but bugger me I did it.

Wounds so much better again today, elbow really dry and the dressing has been reduced to a bit of stretchy bandage, Donor wound also drying up and now just needs E45 cream on to ease the itchyness. God is it itchy! I want to scratch all over, to dig in my nails. But Im resisting. Today I managed to get my left arm lifted to 35 degree angle, so much more movement that yesterday, yeah for tomorrow.

Shaun and Joji visited. Laughter and feet the main theme. Pictured below. Wheeled down to the Coffee shop for a Latte. Yum. The two of them are full of sunshine!

Mum and dad begged a night off, which I willingly granted, they need to rest, to sleep. I missed their visit, but the night passed with bad TV and visits to the toilet.

Wednesday 6th October

A bad night, little sleep and ponderings of what Im going to be doing in a weeks time, a months time! I have decided that Im not going to accept this situation. Im going to push my body, with Sophies exercises, Im going to do everything I can to make it work the way it should. So through the day I did my exercises, breathing and body pushing each limb till it hurt just a little.

Bridie, the hospital councillor came in to talk. We talked about loads of things, but mainly how Im going to cope once Im out of my safe little hospital bubble. I don’t know. It will be strange living at home, but I know I will be safe. We talked about Dylan and how he is coping, Bridie would like me to get him assessed, just to be safe.

Visits from Ruth and Renate, Donna and Liz. “Im fine, really, its all good”, hugs, kisses, “get well soons”. Such good friends make me realise how lucky I am.

Sophie came to beast me and we pushed my body, my left arm is definitely improving, I can move it a little more each time she visits, still unable to lift it more than half way up my body, but its getting there. My fingers are not so stiff and Ive more control over them.

My catheter was removed, its all down to me now. Getting out of bed is hard, my body just doesn’t want to do want it needs to do to get me up. I feel like I have not control over the middle part of my body. Needing the bed to pull me up. Im worried I wont make it to the toilet in time!

Mum and dad came again to visit, they don’t see the point in Dylan seeing a councillor, I gave in. Things are pretty status quo with the house, dad chasing up the fire brigade and police, but not really getting anywhere.

Im tired, but feeling a lot more positive tonight, the days are long, but I really do feel that its all pulling in the right way.

Thursday 7th October

Its been a good day. I had my bandages removed and the new dressings seem to have made a significant improvement. Still smelly, stringy and wet on my left side, but my elbow on my right arm is healing well and the cuts on my left arm are looking brilliant. Still looks a bit ‘Bride of Frankenstein’ but so good compared to a week ago. I can’t believe the difference two days can make.

Visited by David from Trinity Church and David Stocks. A prayer and some raspberries. Mum and dad brought Dylan, he played with bed again, such sweet hugs and kisses. He seems fine, people are dropping off toys and clothes in the bag load, sometimes mum doesn’t even know who they are off. Such kindness, such generosity!

Shaun phoned, it made me smile, Im tired tonight, but I cant sleep, more Orimorph please!

Friday 8^th October

Morphine reduced to 20mg per twice a day. Im managing to stay off the Orimorph, trying to find out how much I can push it till I feel the need to call for for help.

Tuesday 5th October

Tuesday 5^th October

Today was not a good day. I woke this morning feeling really good, my arms and leg were hurting but I thought it was the work I did with Sophie, yesterday. I made my way, with my gorgeous catheter handbag to the toilet and did what is normal to do. Yeah!

Back to the bed I noticed I had leaked lots through the night, the sheets were covered and my gown was soaked too. Val and Robbie came in to remove my bandages so Mr Valham could have a look. As soon as they began to cut through the arm bandages I knew something was wrong, it smelt so bad.

I looked at Vals face as the bandages were pulled away and it was confirmed, something was wrong. Words like soft, leakage, infected were bandied around the room I looked at my wounds and they were pink and wet, with long strings of skin hanging from them. They stunk, a sweet but wrong smell!

Mr Valham came in and again his eyes showed disappointment, more words IV antibiotics, extended stay, not good, were thrown in to the pot. My mood plummeted and I realised I was going to be here for a long time.

Val removed the last of my bandages; my donor sight bandage was wet and bloody and made me gasp with pain as it was pulled from my leg.

Val took me into the bathroom, the chair they use to help you get in and out of the bath is really clever, “this might hurt a bit when your lowered into the water Shannon”. It did, but it felt good too. I lay in the bath, bits of my body literally falling into the water around me, dabbing at the wounds, trying to get them clean, each dab a little pull of pain, not a great big pain, just a sharp one. Hair washed, body given a final cleansing shower wash. All need for privacy gone, I just wanted to be clean.

Robbie did my bandages; I lay on the bed trying to move my body into the best position possible for them to do what they needed to do. Orimorph easing my physical pain, nothing helping my thoughts and brooding, my body isn’t healing. More time till I get home to my baby.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of Orimorph, more drugs please, yes Im hurting. I cried, after dropping a book on the floor, I couldn’t get to it. My body wouldn’t work. I cried and cried, silent tears.

Mum and dad come with sparkley water, kisses and tired faces. We talked about me staying in for longer, “we can cope, just get better”. They are so good to me; I want to get better to stop their pain. I want to not be here, but I am. Today is not a good day.

Monday 4th October

It’s been a hard, but good day. I’ve walked up and down the corridor with Sophie twice and finally got some good movement from my left arm. This morning Carole, who is very gentle, washed my back, legs and under my right arm, all the bits I can’t reach, but I managed to do the rest. It was a real sense of achievement! The rest of the day I spent sitting up in my chair or doing Sofies exercises. My chest is now much clearer than it was; I’m off the horrible nebuliser.

Mum, Dad and Dylan visited, mum looks so bloody tired, tearful admission that she is really tired and feel like she is struggling to cope. She is doing so much; I’m worried it’s going to be too much!!! But my mam is my mam and she will do things her way – gods love her, even if it kills her.

She had brought me in some big pants and a vest top, cant wait to get into them after my bath tomorrow. Mum and dads tiredness makes me realise how lucky I am to have them in my life. For although they are both frazzled they come and visit, bringing kisses and hugs full of warmth and love, They also bring Dylan, who is fascinated by the moving bed, tonight he fixed it along with my catheter! The things that child will play with!

After they left I felt my tummy rumble and decided to make my own way to the toilet. Getting up is hard, the pain in my leg sometimes takes my breath away, its like little fire works going off all up my leg. But in a hobble swing motion I managed to get to the toilet and get sat down. Hoorah! We had movement – a proper pooh!!!! Having done this all by myself I went for the last step in the process and managed to get my bum wiped. Back in bed the lovely Andrea came in to ask if I needed anything, told her my good news and she was over the moon. Its Andreas birthday on Wednesday, I must ask mum to get something for her.

It’s taken me an hour to type this out and I’m shattered, each small movement sending a little pain into my arms and legs, but it’s a good pain, a healing pain. I can’t wait for my bath tomorrow!

House Fire

I'm in hopspital following a house fire.

It was awful and Im trying to deal, not only with the idea of loosing everything in my world, but of dealing wiht the physical pain.

Just to list the injuries, so in future weeks and months I dont ever forget how lucky I am.

Resuscitated 3 times

Lung damage - may cause scaring

Broken bone in my back, luckily Im told, its just a static one, so just have to be careful

Broken ribs x 3

Lacerations to chest and right arm - dealt with by the plastic surgery team

Burns to my right leg, right arm, left arm - dealt with by the burns surgery team, grafts applied from my left leg.

Light burns and lacerations to my face, back, legs (nothing serious).

Muscle damage to neck, shoulders, legs.

All in all, after being blown out of an upper storey window, the general concensus is Im doing bloody well to be here. I hurt like hell, but the morphine is great and the staff are even better.