This post is continued from The day I died and lived to tell the tale
I woke up on the 7th day. At least, I opened my eyes.
The nurse came in and asked me if I knew where I was – I shook my head.
She told me that I had been very, very ill and still was.
As I peered into the haze, I could just about make out my husband walking in with my mother-in-law.
They asked me what day it was and pointed me towards the calendar on the wall. I couldn’t see. (Don’t worry, it’s because I didn’t have my glasses on) My husband told me it was the 27th of June and that our baby was doing fine. What baby?
I could not remember having the baby and my fuzzy mind still thought that she was due on the 4th of July (the original date that we were supposed to have her) I opened my mouth to ask a question
But…I couldn’t speak.
Not. A. Word.
As I tried desperately to find my voice, I just couldn’t.
My brain was in a fuzz and I was desperately trying to make sense.
I was desperate for water.
I tried to tell them what I wanted. I couldn’t.
I could not even gesture because somehow I could not raise my hand.
I just lay there – struggling to get words out.
And I was very, very scared…
They tried to find out what I wanted and mentioned everything – pen, paper, a towel, was I uncomfortable? In pain?
I could only shake my head.
Finally someone got it right. Water.
But I was not allowed any and had to make do with someone wetting my lips with an ice cube instead which was more than welcome to my parched lips.
I was still connected to many tubes – a central line in my neck, lines on both arms and a tube down my throat (that thankfully I knew nothing about or I would have spent the entire day retching) and I had an oxygen mask (which I hated but could not remove as I could not lift my hands)
I could still not recall having had my baby. My husband told me she was fine. He showed me a photo on his phone but my mind still could not connect why I was in hospital and my baby was at home.
I remembered none of the trauma. Amazingly. Thankfully.
The mind had an awesome way of protecting me – Forgetting.
Doctors came in and checked me over. I was told that I had a hysterectomy. It had to be done to save my life.
At that moment the enormity of what had happened still didn’t hit me.
I only knew one thing – I wanted to see my children. And I had to get out of there – fast!