I don’t want to go to Chelsea

My brother in law helped get her settled, writing her details on the board, and ensuring he knew the nurses. ICU at the Marsden was very different, a bright open room, lots of seats, and more up to date equipment. Not to say the last hospital wasn’t good in terms of treatment, but the modern nature made you feel more confident.

She was still in a coma, and would be for a couple of days, but now we were with the doctors and nurses who had been seeing her for two years. They determined that the issues had been caused by the immunotherapy, basically causing her body to over work, and start shutting down the major organs. Things were in a bad way (not as bad as the previous doctor thankfully), but we could see the way forward.

Now family could start visiting, and especially when they brought her round. In her typical fighting way, she was soon engaging with us all, and bossing us around. The kids could be taken in to see her as well (which they thought was great fun – mainly because they rank hospitals on hot chocolate). They still didn’t really understand the severity of the situation.

The major logistic issue was that the hospital was a train away, and this made it harder to take the kids for a quick trip – we had to combine it. My parents came down as they had now finished school, and so we could go up and back easier.

It was a Saturday when we had visited, and I was on my way home when I got a call half way back. She had had a minor stroke. Started with convulsing, and scared my mother in law who was still there. I was stood in the rain by my car at the station, not knowing what was going on, or what to do. They settled her, and sedated her, before we could all breathe again.

It is strange writing this down, as this a major thing to happen to a body, but feels like one more bump on the road for us. There have been long term implications – she cant see down the left hand side, has to take a multitude of drugs to counter act the effects, along with those taken for the other surgery, and it means our lives are a considerable amount harder. She doesn’t have the same energy, cant drive, gets tired, forgets things, cant see the children on one side, trips over the cat, but she is still alive. For one terrible evening, for one more terrible evening, that might not have been.

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