I've always suspected that I'm not quite 'normal' and one of the nastier experiences on the I.C. ward pretty well confirmed it...
Because I was unconscious by the time the ambulance arrived, I was put on a ventilator which involves a tube down the throat and a hook-up to a machine to do your breathing for you...not nice, but I was oblivious 'cos they'd dosed me with morphine and it was the morphine which gave me the willies. There were kittens playing on the floor of the ward...ginger ones in case you're wondering...small goblins with horrid faces sitting at the end of my bed and the most dramatic...a helicopter landed in the ward itself.
And all this was once the morphine had begun to wear off and the breathing tube had been removed after being in situ for three days...
Three men in scrubs...it was much like living in an episode of E.R...put their heads round the curtain one day...nodded happily at me and smiled a lot. I asked the nurse who were they? And she said they were the team who put me out...it took three of them?
It was all quite surreal...eating hot buttered toast at three in the morning while the ward manager told me about his days spent nursing in Saudi Arabia...practising walking down the corridor with a walker on wheels while Roger carried my oxygen in a back pack and caught me each and every time before I fell over...
The palaver of getting out of bed to sit in a chair for half an hour when all the tubes and wires had to be disconnected and then reconnected and no matter where I put an arm or a hand something would leak blood or come adrift and all the alarms on the machines would beep furiously and bring nurses running from all directions...I spent a lot of time apologising and they spent a deal of time telling me not to worry.
It gradually dawned on me that I'd actually been quite ill when more young men in scrubs began to pat my knee and say how relieved they were to see me looking better...by this time I'd stopped asking who they were and just said thank-you...and my knee was the only safe place to pat...in case you were thinking... 'cos my arms and hands were smothered in needles and such-like.
Now I'm sleeping a great deal...can't concentrate on anything harder than a Word Search puzzle...and am on a complicated diet which involves eating six small portions of food a day...though I did manage to get yet more blood tests done at the Doctors this morning and had my hair cut as well...and wrote this.