Reflecting one year on....
As it approaches a year since the most life changing day of my family’s life, undoubtedly the worst day of my life, I have had some time for reflection, to consider the events of a year ago and the subsequent months and how they have had such a huge impact on my life. I wasn’t sure whether this was just going to be a personal reflection or if I would share it, however after Andy (my husband) read it over he felt it was worth a read, so as it is about him I felt he had the final call. In actual fact the main message that I want to get out of this piece of writing is to make the most of everything that you have right now because you never know what is literally around the corner. We have been living in a crazy time recently, full of insecurity, confusion, instability and the unknown, however there is also so much positive that I feel we can all gain from the situation and a lot of that is to do with appreciating the small things, whether it be the fact we have been blessed with good weather whilst unable to do much, or that we have had precious time to either be with our families at home or more time to speak to loved ones via the countless means of technology available to us now - in fact how fortunate that this all happened when we have technology. So with that in mind and with time to reflect, the following seemed to flow out and I wanted to share the positives of what happened, the lesson of living for the now and appreciating that the present is all you can be certain of, so the best thing you can do is make the most of it.
On June 2nd 2019 my husband Andy went up to have a shower, about 9.30am in the morning. As I was changing my son’s nappy I heard a thud above me. My husband is generally heavy footed however the lack of response when I called his name to check on him, and the pulsating on the floor that followed alerted me that something was not right. I popped my son back on the floor and ran upstairs to a sight that even a year on will never leave my head. Without the need to go into too much detail it was a scene that one only really sees in a horror movie, blood spraying from my husband’s head whilst his naked body having just come out the shower shaking uncontrollably and foam coming out from his mouth signifying the seizure that had taken over his body. I recall trying to work his phone that lay next to him to dial 999, though with it being a new touch screen and in my state of shock I was hopeless. I placed a towel on his wound, ran downstairs, grabbed my phone, shut the kitchen door where my two children, aged almost 3 and 18 months were, and opened my front door screaming for all it was worth ‘help, help’ as I dialled 999 simultaneously. My neighbour very quickly came across and in desperation I asked her to look after my children as I ran back upstairs to see to my husband, now connected to the emergency services.
What happened next is a mixture of horrific images and memories. Two of my other neighbours appearing upstairs in my bedroom with me, one of whom assured me my two children had safely been taken over the road and looked after whilst I listened to the lady on the end of the phone assisting me in keeping my husband alive. I distinctly remember blood, everywhere, and trying to keep my husband decent as he moved between lying shaking aggressively in one instant to then trying to push me away violently as blood spurted from his head. The reassuring fact that he was able to push me was combined with the fact he was ‘not there’ with no idea who I was and no ability to gain any kind of understanding. He moved between being violent to almost unconscious and without the support of my amazing neighbours by my side I think I would have lost it totally.
It felt like a lifetime before the ambulance arrived and they were clearly concerned by the scene that they found themselves in. I remember screaming at them to stop the blood coming out of his head, to calm him down and save him whilst hearing talks of a helicopter ambulance and various other medical terms. My neighbour led me out to the hallway to allow the professionals to get on with the job and informed me she had called my family who were on their way. There are no other words to describe how I felt in the situation aside from helpless. Allowing these people to try and save his life. I went downstairs to find the outside of my house like a crime scene, several police cars and ambulances out the front and the arrival of a helicopter crew which was enough to take my breath away and not in the positive sense.
As I write this I am aware that it feels somewhat unreal, but this was the reality. My parents arrived and I found out after that my mum was not allowed into the house as at the time it was treated as a crime scene - that I was a suspect. I went out to her and all I remember saying is ‘there’s no hope, that’s it’. My dad, not the best in such situations (but then again who is) almost passed out and required the spare ambulance services who were on the scene to provide him with oxygen. Almost laughable in retrospect. By this time the air ambulance crew were upstairs trying to find the best way to treat my husband, and with no disrespect to him as I know he had to do his job, this painful police officer decided it would be the right time to ‘question’ me, ask me what I was doing, why the kids weren’t in the house etc etc. All I wanted was to know Andy was okay, and the questions were unbearable. Days later when I checked my RING video from the morning I heard that he had relayed the story almost as if I had committed a crime. I understand how it could have been perceived this way but at the time I was in no position to be interrogated. In the midst of this the amazing helicopter doctor came down and I can’t recall whether it was more of a question or a statement but she relayed to me that she was going to have to put my husband in a coma, to calm him, to stop the trauma to the brain, to allow them to staple his head together, and basically to try and save him. Now I have only ever seen TV shows where to be honest a coma is something that people often do not come out of. I remember asking her if he would ever wake up. She couldn’t answer. In my head that was it.
I sat in my kitchen in disbelief as above me they prepared to put Andy in a coma, staple his head and get him to the helicopter where they were to airlift him to the Royal London Hospital. One amazing police officer told me that in order to get there for when he arrived we would have to leave my house and he would ‘blue light’ us there. He was kind and caring and said he would be with me to go upstairs and grab my things (in retrospect this was because I was a suspect and couldn’t be alone at this point).
I remember hovering by the front door waiting for the medics to bring Andy downstairs. All I kept hearing were snippets of how to get him to the helicopter, which fence to bring down, how to remove the stair gates etc. Finally they got him out to the front where I was and there is another image that I will never forget. He was basically in a bag, the type you see in hospital dramas where people have no chance. His head was stapled, his eyes rolled back, and he was attached to a huge oxygen can. He looked helpless and just not there. I went over and told him to please stay alive, that Lola, Archie and I love him so much and to stay strong. I mean what on earth do you say to someone when you think it is your last words to them? The lovely police officer checked I had everything I needed and said we better go as I left my helpless husband to be taken to the helicopter. My incredible amazing neighbours along with my sister and her husband who had arrived reassured me that they would sort the kids and the house out so I literally got into a ‘blues and twos’ police car, as if I was in an episode of The Bill and was speedily taken to the hospital.
The whole journey was a blur. I remember repeating to my mum, that’s it, life as I know it is over. It is mad what goes through your head in these situations. I cursed the fact that sorting our life insurance was on our list of things to do, I went through every sour word that I had ever said and remember turning to my mum and saying ‘I should have been a better wife’. I messaged my best friend saying ‘the worst thing in the world has happened Andy has knocked his head and is being airlifted to hospital. Pray for us’ Throughout the journey the police officer updated us as to when the helicopter had left our house and how it would arrive just after us, but with no update on Andy’s condition. An hour later we arrived at the hospital and again I found myself in a movie like scene where I got taken to ‘the room’ as in the kind of small room where you get given lots of tea and prepare for the worst. My sister had been in touch with Andy’s parents who arrived at the hospital shortly after and for the next couple of hours we just sat, with no idea what on earth was happening.
After what seemed like a lifetime the doctor came to speak to us and as I held my breath for all it was worth, she informed us that they had done the major brain checks and he was breathing and was going to be okay and hopefully be out of the coma soon. I simply said to her ‘will he remember my name’ as for the previous few hours all I had been thinking, considering the state I had left him in, was that I would either be a widow or he would never know who I was. The utter relief of her saying yes he would was unbelievable and as if a light had been turned back on. I remember curling over as if my body was collapsing almost as if I had been holding my breath for hours and I was finally able to breathe again.
It was a little while later that I was allowed to go in and see him. He was covered in blood, looking totally battered, but he opened his eyes and there was life. It was like a miracle and never have I felt so grateful in my whole life that when I could see he recognised me and knew who I was.
The next few hours went in a blur, he had tests, I had lots of tea, his friends soon heard about what had happened and I was offered messages of support and kindness. Towards the evening he got moved from where he was first placed into what I think was an intensive care area. Sadly I wasn’t allowed to stay with him that evening, but as I left he was conscious, stable, aware of who I was and there was life in his beaten and bloody body. It was awful leaving him to go home but I was assured that I could call at any point to check up on him and he was by some miracle, going to be okay.
What a day, the lowest of the lowest, to the high of being given a second chance. My sister’s husband drove us (my mum and I) back to my house where I was beyond touched by what my neighbours had done for me. The whole house had been put back to normal, bloody carpets professionally cleaned, duvets, pillows and towels all removed and some sense of normality so so far from the scene I had left. I will never forget the kindness that these amazing people showed us that day, true ‘Saviours’ as I labelled our WhatsApp group.
I packed a bag and stayed at my parents that evening, where my brother and sister were with my children, who thankfully had got through the whole situation unscathed. I got into bed that night, knowing I wouldn’t sleep as so much was running through my head. What if the day hadn’t turned out as it had, what if my neighbours hadn’t heard me, what if the children had seen Andy in that state (I was told that my neighbour’s daughter had caught them just as they were about to climb the stairs to see what was going on) These thoughts haunted me and I had to go someway to reason with them and accept that they were just thoughts and we were okay. They do say time is a healer and that is true of these thoughts and images that played on my mind immediately after the accident.
The next couple of days involved going to the hospital as Andy steadily improved, the kids retained normality and went to nursery who were amazing with them and helped me out no end. Andy was in a state of shock of course, a massive head wound, pumped full of drugs but worse than anything, the lack of understanding as to why this had happened and even more than that, what exactly had happened. Did he have a seizure and then pass out causing him to smash his head against the bedside table, or did he slip, smash his head and the head wound caused the seizure? A year and every test possible later there is still no conclusion and that lack of knowledge and understanding is without a doubt the hardest thing to get out heads around. This was especially the case in those first few weeks as we lived in fear that something would happen again,
By another miracle Andy was allowed out of hospital a few days later. We stayed at my parents for a few days in order that someone could always be around him and I had some help with the children. Our holiday was cancelled, life almost went on pause and it was a very strange time, a mixture of so much gratitude along with a huge amount of anxiety and fear. Nothing could have prepared us for that day and I don’t think for me especially, life will ever be the same.
Andy’s recovery was unbelievable considering the state he had been in. Of course it was full of questioning, fear and patience but week by week, month by month normality started to resume. He couldn’t drive for 6 months and had just left his company starting on his own in recruitment a month before the accident. This stress of work was real, however compared to what could have been it really was irrelevant, everything was put into perspective. We made the most out of short walks, family time and fresh air as we started to get back to normal. I do remember especially for the first few months group gatherings filled Andy with fear, whether it be the noise, the questions from people asking how he was and what had happened etc being too overwhelming. Everyone was so so kind, offering words of support and help but I remember at some point just wanting to run from it, not discuss it and just move forwards. I also distinctly remember receiving a call about a week or so after the accident from the lovely police officer who took us to then hospital, simply checking in. He called not knowing the outcome and when I said he was alive, next to me, he sounded so shocked. Once again the reality of how close we had been to another scenario hit home.
It goes without saying how grateful we are for the EHAAT emergency services who saved Andy’s life. A few months later we were invited to go to the base and meet the team and this was truly amazing. This is where I learnt even much more about the incident. The fact that the crew had all thought I had caused the incident - the violent wife abusing the husband in the shower. This filled me with fear as I understand how this could have been the case - in another household, another family this is some kind of reality. The ‘what if’ they pursued this line of enquiry question played on my mind. I also asked them if, at the time, they thought he was going to survive and the reality is that no, they didn’t, there was no clarity as to what had happened, how badly his head had been damaged and how he would respond to the coma. This again gave me shivers and reminded me of how truly lucky we were. I will forever be grateful for the team who saved us.
A year on and still every time there is a thud or bang upstairs, I find myself shouting up, or running upstairs like a lightening bolt to check all is okay. Leaving Andy alone for long periods of time took a lot of getting used to and it was especially hard for the first 6 months when he wasn’t able to drive or bath the children alone, amongst many other things. I do feel that I will always be affected by the accident - even now if I don’t hear from him for a certain amount of time the worry that something has happened is there, which I feel is a normal response and I am aware people who haven’t experienced anything like this have these thoughts. However like a wound that is healed over time, the experience has slowly become a memory, that sometimes pops into my head and causes a moment of reflection, something to learn from and make you appreciate what you have. I do laugh as for the first few months it was like a honeymoon period of marriage, he couldn’t do anything wrong as I was just so grateful to still have him by my side. That obviously still stands but now I feel I can tell him off for not taking the bins out or leaving finished toilet rolls on the windowsill!
By some other miracle we are now expecting our third child and I pinch myself sometimes with the knowledge that it could have been so so different. Whilst this was without a doubt the worst thing that has happened to me I appreciate that I can learn from it, be grateful for the life that we still have, grateful for the decisions the medical team made to save his life, grateful for my family and friends who were by my side throughout, grateful for my amazing neighbours who went above and beyond the call of duty. And of course whilst like any married couple with the pressures of daily life we have our ups and downs, there are many moments when I look at him, remember that image that will never leave me, and count my lucky stars that we got a second chance.
I was supposed to run the marathon this year but aside from the fact it has been postponed due to Corona, pregnancy has led me to defer to next year. Instead to mark the occasion I am going to be doing a live workout class on Sunday 31st May to raise money for our lifesavers EHHAT and to celebrate a year on from ‘that day’ so please do get in touch if you want to take part or just donate to the amazing cause - I have pasted the link below. Thank you so much for taking the time to read this.
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