Long post alert!!! Putting myself in the firing line isnt one of my favorite things but here goes ( bullet proof vest firmly in place). Excuse me if I wax a bit lyrical.... Last Friday, September 26th, a perfect Indian summer morning, as I drove my darling daughter to her new school in Bath, we spoke of new home, the coming weekend and the recent adventure that is our life. We arrived in the car park with plenty of time to kiss, hug and say a long farewell (her year group were going on a PGL trip (acronym for Parents Get Lost). I was/am happy to see she was/is settling in and already had some friends. I parked my (rented) car in a safe place, kindly pointed out to me my the school bursar. I was tempted to walk down into town but as I emerged from the side street where the car was parked, I saw the elusive Bus 31 lumbering towards me and not one to look a gift horse in the eye, I quickly hailed it and in less than 5 minutes I was in town. Result. Now I had the luxury of over an hour before my train was due to leave for London. Ehmmm what to do! I walked past one of the many shops that Ive always been too busy (or to broke ass) to enter and browsed leisurely. Within half an hour I had bought a jumper identical to one I had already in my wardrobe. Result....Or maybe not, I thought half laughing, as I headed out of the shop and continued my walk to the station. Im going to have to return you when I get back, I said to the grey jumper. Then I was on the train. Then I was in London. Then I saw my friend. Then we were eating in a Chinese restaurant. A snatch of conversation. The a lift home in her 4/4. Images of Miro. Then nothing ... Then I was struggling to reach the surface, something in my throat, my arm heavy and immobile beside my slowly awakening body. Lots of familiar faces peering anxiously down at me. My friend Anna, putting honey on my tongue, Let me brush those chops for you! Youre in Hammersmith hospital! And had apparently been there for two days. But before that I had also apparently had been at Charing Cross hospital for two days. Total FOUR days in coma!!! To piece the story together it seemed I had a VF (ventricular fibrillation) attack, a very very bad thing indeed. It lasted11 minutes. In those 11 minutes, I had no oxygen to my brain or any other organs for that matter and I had also knocked myself out when I fell (a rather painful bump to the back of the head attests to that even now!) I have a defibrillator in my chest for this very occasion! One of the very best in the market Ive been told. However my defibrillator chose rather politely to sit this one out and merely observe and record. Ehmmm. Not so clever is it? So my reason for sharing? I died ... But I didnt stay dead. At the very least I should be brain dead now. Hanging in a vegetative state whilst my family decide when to turn off life support. I havent got away with this Scot free. My short-term memory is useless. I Cant Remember A Damn Thing. Not After Buying The Identical Jumper Images. Flashes. No real memories. Today is jumbled with yesterday. Yesterday with .... Take your pick. So where am I going with this? Inside of me, attached to my heart is one of the most sophisticated defibrillators/pacemaker my money couldnt buy ... but thanks to NHS there it is in me! My insurance against sudden death that has swept away and decimated my family to almost nothing in five bitter years. If only theyd had an ICD, we cried. They would all be alive like me today, we wailed. How Jehovah, Giver of Life must have laughed his weary laugh at our foolishness. I HAD a defib/pacemaker and it did N.o.t.h.i.n.g to save my life when I went into Ventricular fibrillation for eleven minutes. It had been programmed to combat ALL known VF but praise be to Jehovah, he threw a curve ball, a VF which it had never seen before and therefore wasnt programmed to treat. My safe guard/rail guard was as useful in shocking me back to rhythm as a handshake is in containing Ebola. I am alive today because it still within Gods will for me to L.I.V.E. My medical team here use the word miracle. No one can understand how I survived. And un-brain-damaged (my new favorite word). I am not only reinvigorated to be alive, to seek new heights and adventures but I am also so thankful and not just for my life. But I have also finally let go of the bitterness that took up permanent residence in my heart after the death of my sister Yinka, my brother, Ladi and above all of the rancor that permeated every fibre of my being when my Labake, my niece, born into my hands, stealer of my heart from that first wriggle, destroyer of the order of life, died, while we, her parents lived. O how I hated myself for living. I should have gone in her place I thought. Over and over. Why didnt you take me Lord I asked? Before my faith could be sorely tested? Before I didnt even know how to praise your name anymore! Why Lord? Well now I see my arrogance and grief. For those people I hurt because I was hurting, I ask for your forgiveness. For the friendships I let go because I couldnt bare to watch your Labake while mine became one with the earth, I ask for your understanding. I expect to be out of the hospital by tomorrow, with Gods Grace. In the meantime, I made some new friends and beautiful memories in the hospital... Im blessed and thankful to all of you, who have borne with me.
Posted on: Fri, 03 Oct 2014 09:39:54 +0000
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