I had two operations in the RIE - the first a temporary 'external fixator' by Mr Oliver, and the second (with a spinal anaesthetic) - a complex screwing, fixing, nailing and joining by Mr Keanan. I think the latter took around 4 hours - and I remember nothing but the friendly ODOs with their tats and short hair and cheerful banter. It would be several weeks before I would find out whether this operation had been successful - at the time I was promised nothing given the severity of the injury. This was just the start of the extraordinary work undertaken by 2 different teams of surgeons to get me back to the outside world.
On the Friday after the second operation I was told I would transfer to the Plastics ward at St Johns the next day (at the time they told me I would be there 10 days) - and may even have my operation on the Saturday - so I started fasting... But on Saturday morning I missed my ambulance slot because my paper work wasn't ready - and weeping with frustration and fear I begged the staff nurse to find me another slot. The staff nurse was frantic with other things - a Saturday skeleton staff and people off sick. And then Wayne the ambulance man arrived with his trolley and colleague. After their cup of tea, I was on my way.
I was eased onto the trolley with a plastic board, my notes attached, my bags of belongings stuffed underneath that had been packed the night before by my mother and a pal (the rumour was only one bag in the ambulance - just like Ryanair...) . My flowers resting on my legs we set off through the hospital corridors, my view of the ceiling strangely disorientating. Then once I had been carefully loaded into the ambulance I was asked if I liked classical music - I did and it was duly turned on - immediately calming and reassuring.
On the way to St Johns I discover that these two generous and gentle men are driving me in their spare time - doing voluntary work at the weekend to ensure that patient transfers happen. I stared out the window at the motorway taffic, lying on my trolley, packed with blankets, the scent of the flowers pervading the ambulance while Wayne updated me on the route and time still to go. Four days on from my accident this was my first experience of calm - thanks to the patience and empathy shown by these men.
At St Johns we wheeled in through reception - down the corridor and up in the lift to Ward 18 - into the single room with its tiny ensuite immediately behind the nurse's station - met by smiles and welcomes from the nurses. My relief was palpable. The operation would be the next day - and so the preparation for Mr Addington began.
On the Friday after the second operation I was told I would transfer to the Plastics ward at St Johns the next day (at the time they told me I would be there 10 days) - and may even have my operation on the Saturday - so I started fasting... But on Saturday morning I missed my ambulance slot because my paper work wasn't ready - and weeping with frustration and fear I begged the staff nurse to find me another slot. The staff nurse was frantic with other things - a Saturday skeleton staff and people off sick. And then Wayne the ambulance man arrived with his trolley and colleague. After their cup of tea, I was on my way.
I was eased onto the trolley with a plastic board, my notes attached, my bags of belongings stuffed underneath that had been packed the night before by my mother and a pal (the rumour was only one bag in the ambulance - just like Ryanair...) . My flowers resting on my legs we set off through the hospital corridors, my view of the ceiling strangely disorientating. Then once I had been carefully loaded into the ambulance I was asked if I liked classical music - I did and it was duly turned on - immediately calming and reassuring.
On the way to St Johns I discover that these two generous and gentle men are driving me in their spare time - doing voluntary work at the weekend to ensure that patient transfers happen. I stared out the window at the motorway taffic, lying on my trolley, packed with blankets, the scent of the flowers pervading the ambulance while Wayne updated me on the route and time still to go. Four days on from my accident this was my first experience of calm - thanks to the patience and empathy shown by these men.
At St Johns we wheeled in through reception - down the corridor and up in the lift to Ward 18 - into the single room with its tiny ensuite immediately behind the nurse's station - met by smiles and welcomes from the nurses. My relief was palpable. The operation would be the next day - and so the preparation for Mr Addington began.
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