Apology for absence by Julia Jones
I'm sorry I didn't post today. I've been writing a monthly piece for AE since October 2011 and it's become a moment to take stock in every month, to write freely about whatever's uppermost in my mind at that moment. I feel I'm among friends and it's both an unburdening and a chance to clarify my thoughts. I look forward to it.
This month I knew I was going to be late as I've had eye surgery to repair a macular hole and kept away from the computer during convalescence. Instead I enjoyed something of a reading holiday and would probably have written about it if yesterday (September 8th) had not begun shockingly early in the morning with my daughter Georgeanna collapsed in the bathroom being repeatedly sick and with "the worst headache I've ever had in my life". Her neck was stiff, she was clammy with sweat, floppy and at times barely conscious.
We thought meningitis, so many of the signs were there -- but not all. Called 999. The ambulance crew were helpful but uncertain. A migraine? A virus? They took her to A&E anyway. Uncertainty continued. It wasn't until a puzzled doctor decided to send her for a CT scan "just to see whether we've missed anything" that it became clear that she was bleeding in her brain. A rush to the resuscitation unit and a long, tense wait while, unknown to us, urgent attempts were being made to transfer her to a hospital with specialist neurosurgical facilities. Georgeanna's condition stabilised and by the time she and I were told what had happened she was clear and conscious and well enough to post to facebook!
That was funny but a subarachnoid haemorrhage isn't a joke one would want to repeat too often. We wept, briefly. Two of her brothers left their offices and hurried to be near her. Her father arrived, lines etched deep in his face, uncertain where to sit or what to say. So were we all. The doctor kept repeating "you've been very lucky" and when we were finally leaving for the blue light ambulance transfer, the manager of the resuss unit gave me an unexpected, gulp-making hug.
The relief when Georgeanna was finally installed in the high dependency neurosurgical unit was intense but tempered by their expert assessment of the possible perils and procedures in store. Today however they have carried out an awe-inspiring procedure called endovascular coiling and the aneurism is quelled.
The 9th of the month is almost over; no proper blog has been posted but my daughter is in expert hands and I think she's going to be okay. What a wonderful health service we have. How fortunate I am.
This month I knew I was going to be late as I've had eye surgery to repair a macular hole and kept away from the computer during convalescence. Instead I enjoyed something of a reading holiday and would probably have written about it if yesterday (September 8th) had not begun shockingly early in the morning with my daughter Georgeanna collapsed in the bathroom being repeatedly sick and with "the worst headache I've ever had in my life". Her neck was stiff, she was clammy with sweat, floppy and at times barely conscious.
We thought meningitis, so many of the signs were there -- but not all. Called 999. The ambulance crew were helpful but uncertain. A migraine? A virus? They took her to A&E anyway. Uncertainty continued. It wasn't until a puzzled doctor decided to send her for a CT scan "just to see whether we've missed anything" that it became clear that she was bleeding in her brain. A rush to the resuscitation unit and a long, tense wait while, unknown to us, urgent attempts were being made to transfer her to a hospital with specialist neurosurgical facilities. Georgeanna's condition stabilised and by the time she and I were told what had happened she was clear and conscious and well enough to post to facebook!
That was funny but a subarachnoid haemorrhage isn't a joke one would want to repeat too often. We wept, briefly. Two of her brothers left their offices and hurried to be near her. Her father arrived, lines etched deep in his face, uncertain where to sit or what to say. So were we all. The doctor kept repeating "you've been very lucky" and when we were finally leaving for the blue light ambulance transfer, the manager of the resuss unit gave me an unexpected, gulp-making hug.
The relief when Georgeanna was finally installed in the high dependency neurosurgical unit was intense but tempered by their expert assessment of the possible perils and procedures in store. Today however they have carried out an awe-inspiring procedure called endovascular coiling and the aneurism is quelled.
The 9th of the month is almost over; no proper blog has been posted but my daughter is in expert hands and I think she's going to be okay. What a wonderful health service we have. How fortunate I am.
Comments
How dreadful for you and your daughter to go through this but it sounds as though the worst is well and truly past.
I think it's nearly two years since my niece suffered a brain aneurism and for a few days we didn't even know if she would pull through. Of course her case may have been different so probably unwise to compare directly, but her recovery has been, all things considered, astonishing.
Thinking of you and wishing you best and speediest recovery. Ali B