As I lay there defeated in so much as I could not move or speak, I felt tears stream down my cheeks more because I of the anger I felt at not being able to communicate.
The physiotherapist came in and helped me sit up but I fell back again.
I gritted my teeth and willed myself to sit – I had to see my children.
And I managed to sit for about 10 seconds. On my own. An achievement for me.
I tried to stand but fell back. My legs would not support me. Worse than that it seemed that I could not remember how to walk. My co-ordination was gone.
There was a chair not even a metre away from the bed but I could not walk to it.
I still could not talk so I could not tell them how I felt or what I wanted.
I could nod my head to say ‘Yes’ or ‘No’. That’s all!
When it was time for my husband and mother in law to leave, I kept indicating I didn’t want them to go. I didn’t want to stay in the hospital.
But them staying was not an option. I was in the ITU and my children were at home and needed looking after.
I was still being fed by a pipe.
That afternoon, they decided to move me to the chair to get my circulation going and to get me moving a bit.
I was lifted in a patient lift from the bed to the chair. One of the most humiliating experiences of my life.
A patient lift involves a piece of fabric being put under a patient and then suspending the patient in the air to transport them from bed to chair or one place to another.
I was totally at the mercy of the staff. They helped me to the chair and I had to be strapped in as I could not sit unsupported.
I could only sit there for about 10 – 15 minutes as I got tired and had to be transported back – in the patient lift.
It was soon to get worse. That night was the worst night of my life…