9. Tantrums, Final Release and Going Home

Going Home – False Alarm: Dr Hamad confirmed that, as he had been satisfied with my progress, I could possibly go home on Monday. I tried to stay calm, stopped being a nuisance and kept my mouth shut.  Nothing bothered me much, except Colin kept skipping my questions about our late print deadline.

 Although Lara (sister in law) had kindly stepped in to finish off the January / March issue, I was concerned that she wasn’t aware of my system of working, my style of design, unfamiliar with our list of clients and how to deal with each.  I had always thought it very important for the “personal touch”, so how could that have been maintained while I was in hospital?  Naturally I was worried, but as Colin pointed out, there was precious little I could do, so I had to concentrate on getting better and not to get too stressed out. That was part of the cause that got me into my condition in the first place, I guess.  I was told that my blood pressure had been through the roof at the time of my attack. So with that, combined with stress – those symptoms might have caused my stroke and subsequently the major brain bleed.  Dr Hamad, Colin and everyone around me insisted that I had to learn to let go and relax more, or I would risk a relapse.  I had to reluctantly accept.  I had been warned. I hated it!

Lost Control – I Wanted my Life Back!: It hadn’t been easy, as I lay on the sidelines, not aware of how things had been done in my absence.  Everything seemed to have been taken away from me.  It was hard for my ego to admit that I was replaceable.  I certainly wasn’t happy at all.  The stubborn side of me wanted to know everything, but Colin blocked me off at every question.   I guess Colin was right. He tried to protect me from everything that he must have been going through when I had my attack and while I was in hospital. It hadn’t prevented my concerns, or when I asked my many inconvenient questions.   I also must have been so infuriating with my continual mantras of, “I want my computers” and “I want to go home”.  To which Colin patiently replied “not yet” and “behave!”.  Why he hadn’t gagged me was a wonder.  Well, he had previously joked that it had been a pity my tongue “hadn’t also been paralysed“. Cheek!

More Cards – Bit of Colin’s Backgammon Background: Vivian and I passed some of the visiting period playing gin rummy again. I had lost to her miserably. We also watched Spanish TV, while Colin relaxed by playing free backgammon games on his ipad, or secretly sorted out all sorts of things with Lara in preparation for the magazine print, the business and my home-coming.  Although he had been retired, Colin was, and still remained, an amazing backgammon player.  He first won the European Championship in 1980, where he became friends with (name drop alert), James Hunt, the formula 1 World racing champion. 

Colin and James: Colin and James became good friends and followed each other in various international tournaments and race venues. Eventually, they went onto open a night club in Marbella together, during the early 1980’s, called “Oscars”. The place was named after James’ dog!  Anyway, during that heady period, as James succeeded on the race track, Colin got through into many world cup backgammon tournaments.  Could you name any of the young faces in the attached photo?

Monday 28^th January

Hospital Release – Another False Alarm!: Release was the day I had looked forward to, permission to go home at last.  Afraid not!  Dr Hamad announced he had forgotten to arrange another MRI (brain scan) on the previous Friday, so there would have to be a further delay.  I had been totally deflated.  After counting the days and hours since the previous news, this update was a complete let down.  Dr Hamad stated that he hadn’t been sure when I could go home, but could most possibly be the next day or on Wednesday, if he could book the scan session in time.  If my results ended up to be negative, he wouldn’t release me!

It wasn’t exactly news that I wanted to hear, but I had to keep positive. Colin told me he had to return home to Estepona, to prepare for my arrival.  The poor man had so much to organise and make several phone calls to plan the delivery of a wheelchair, stroller, hospital bed and other stuff for hire and installation into the downstairs of our house.  Vivian stayed behind to care for me.  The poor girl continued to put up with sleeping in the awkward armchair, beside my bed at night again.  I certainly hadn’t been aware of the kind of lengths Colin, family and friends went through to make the right arrangements and preparation for my homecoming.   They all were absolute heroes.

Tuesday 29^th January

Going Home – Another False Alarm!: I had hoped for positive news, but Dr Hamad apologetically announced that my MRI wouldn’t be until the next day.  Another let down!  He saw the disappointment in my face, reassuringly squeezed my right hand and said, “don’t worry, very soon”.  That hadn’t given me much confidence, but I kept smiling.  Actually, I sulked like hell when he left! In the meantime, I had phone updates from Colin, that he and Lara had re-organised our lounge to fit in the hired bits and pieces.  Everything would be ready for me.  I naturally moaned because I hadn’t been released yet, but Colin kept telling me to be patient.  Patient. I wanted to scream!

Wednesday 30^th January – Day of my Release

Wheeled Off For Last Physio Session: At last Dr Hamad told me that I would be getting my MRI that morning.  Vivian had to leave for the airport within the next couple of hours.   We both had been hoping that, she could come home with me in the ambulance, but it worked out to be impossible to fit in before her flight.  A wheelchair had arrived to whisk me off for my final meeting with the physiotherapist, as Vivian stayed in my room.  When I got there, other patients were going through their exercises. Eventually, the physio, with another carer, together helped to lift me up, as I tried to grab a bar (unfortunately not the drinking kind) in front of me. I had to stand upright, so she could assess if I was able to stay balanced for a few seconds.  Unfortunately, after several humiliating attempts of slumping back into the wheel chair, I just couldn’t grip the bar hard and long enough with both hands.  After I had been so long in bed, I had become so very weak, my legs and hands couldn’t support my full weight.  I felt totally useless, as they laughed and placed me back into the wheel chair.  I became worried that fiasco would count against the Dr’s decision to release me.  Nobody had told me how good or badly I had done, so I had no idea and guessed that I must have failed miserably. The porter then silently wheeled me back to my room, where Vivian had waited patiently for me during that time.  I definitely hadn’t felt very confident after my last sorry performance.

My Last Scan Experience: I still had high hopes of my MRI scheduled for later that day, so I had to say my sad goodbye and major thank you to Vivian, before she left for the airport.  I really had felt alone and inadequate, while I waited for any or more updated news.  However, not long afterwards, a porter had collected and wheeled me in my bed to another section of the hospital.  It had been quite an adventure, as we moved along unfamiliar corridors and passed various people staring or gave sympathetic looks towards me.  I had no choice but to smile back but inside, I felt quite embarassed.  They had finally parked me in a room with people in a seating area at the base of the bed I had to be transferred to.  It seemed ages until I was attended to, but eventually they wheeled me into another room with a red light on – all science fiction type aura. 

Horrible MRI Scan – Nobody Had Warned Me!: Nobody had explained anything to me, so I became naturally nervous being on my own.  In the red room, a few people had transferred me over to a big machine. I laid back and they slid me inside a metal container. Here we go again – like before! There had been some sort of other contraption placed over my head, so that my head would be locked in and couldn’t move.  Eventually, they glided me backwards into a familiar looking iron coffin.  Inside, I had been able to see staff reflected in a mirror above my head, then an almighty banging started.   I couldn’t move and was frozen. The noise had been incessant, very loud and I tried screaming, “get me out of here”. the only response had been the thumbs up sign or a hand signal, up and down, which indicated that I should calm down in the mirror reflection, but I continued to wriggle and shout out.  The torture had seemed never-ending but, to my relief, it eventually ceased.  I still had no explanation given to me and was silently transferred back in my hospital room, then onto my bed.  I had no clue what had happened, how the test went and if I was going to be released. I felt totally vulnerable and pretty scared.

My Final Release from Hospital

Tried to Update Colin: I had waited for ages, and it seemed like hours.  Fortunately, I had my mobile phone and clumsily fumbled with the buttons. I still hadn’t been able to focus properly even with my glasses on.  Each attempt had been clumsy and horribly awkward. I frustratingly fumbled, failed a number of times, when I tried to dial Colin’s number. It had been a bit of a challenge then.   I must have accidentally called others on a few occasions. Eventually, when I succeeded, I give Colin regular updates and complaints about mt ordeal.  Poor man.

Final Release Confirmation: Dr Hamad had finally shown up, gave me the good news that he had been satisfied with my scan and I was to be released later.  At last!  I felt even more excited, when I witnessed the nursing staff bundle my belongings away in plastic bags. I just had to update Colin by phone again. 

Eventually, my bed had been transferred to another room, where I was left to wait for ages.  Each time I tried to attract a nurse, none of them knew when the ambulance would come to collect me.  I had almost lost it when they came round with feeding trays.  I hadn’t asked for food, nor wanted to eat!  I just wanted to go home!  I must have driven the nurses mad with my impatience.

Grew More Impatient: As the time passed, I became more agitated as my questions continued to be ignored.  I told Colin that I hadn’t understood why he wouldn’t fetch me.  Each call had ended with, “be patient”. I was positive that everyone had forgotten me.  I no longer felt the security of my old hospital room to go back to.  After a while, I rang Colin again and told him that I wanted to get a taxi home.  He went beserk and pointed out that I couldn’t even walk, couldn’t speak properly and had no money. How was I going to achieve that?  I was past caring. I would find a way, which he impatiently responded, “don’t be ridiculous!”.  Apparently, I must have called him around 22 times by then.  The poor man.  I had no choice but to lay back and wait even longer.  I hadn´t the ability to do what I wanted. All had not been well with me, so I sulked even more. 

The Ambulance Home

I waited an eternity, but was suddenly faced with the welcome sight of a friendly looking paramedic at the side of my bed.  My spirits soared but I hadn’t wanted to ruin the moment with, “where the hell have you been?”. He wheeled me out of the room. I had finally got out of that place!  If truth would be known, who would have been more relieved by my departure? Me, Colin or the hospital staff? 

At that stage, I really hadn’t a care. The paramedic rolled me into the back of the ambulance and I had felt us move away from the Hospital.  He had kindly supplied me with some colourful magazines, but I had no energy or capability to flick through them.  I just concentrated on working out, through the side windows where we had stopped and what places we had passed.  I was completely disorientated. Nothing looked familiar or comforting.  The only thing that kept my spirits up were the further phone calls between Colin and me, while I attempted to describe my surroundings and we tried to work out where I was at each stop. We discussed where I was, or how much longer I might get home.  I really hadn’t been concerned because, although my driver took me the “scenic route”, I knew that I would eventually be home.  The ambulance finally slowed down and I had actually recognised some trees and buildings through the windows.  I felt so excited when the vehicle stopped, the back doors opened and I was rolled out to the pleasing and grinning faces of Colin and Lara. I was at home at last …….

Please view next page 10 at Link “Home and a First Few Days Adapting”: https://www.rebootinglinda.com/home-first-few-days-adapting/

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