Its funny what goes through your mind when you come so close to losing someone. The paramedics who brought Lauren to WHH said that she was lucky to be alive and if the men hadn't have found her when they did she would have frozen to death. Sitting in a hospital room for hours on end makes you think of morbid thoughts. It was hard enough going home knowing Lauren was in pain and being unable to walk again but I imagined what would have happened if she hadn't have been found. The phone call would have been 100time worse for a start, the deafencing silence would have deadly and the house would have had an icy chill. I envisaged her funeral and what I would wear. I'd wear a yellow dress as thats her favourite colour and is bright and happy, a celebration of her life, with a fancy fascinator as I knew that would have made her laugh. The only hymn she knows is 'All Things Bright & Beautiful' so we would sing that before playing a medley of Westlife and Take That songs to a photo slideshow of Lauren and then finally her favourite song 'Rule the World' would end the service. I thought her being in Kings would mean that this would stay in my head and never play out in reality...how very nearly wrong I was.
"Death must be so beautiful.To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one's head and listen to silence. To have no yesterday and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace" (Oscar Wilde).
The next few days following the accident passed by in a blur. We would wake up, get to Kings for 2 and then take it in turns to sit with Lauren. She was asleep most of the time and when she was awake she didn't really know what was being said. When we weren't sitting with Lauren we would be in the family room eating our way through the tins of sweets and biscuits Mark's mum had sent up. The doctors then gave us some worrying news. They were now more concerned with her head wound. The damage to her back was done, it was irreversible but the head wound hadn't begun to heal and was still bleeding. They were worried about infections because Lauren wouldn't let them change the sheets and pillow she had as it hurt her too much to be moved. The nurses had managed to get half of the bloody sheet off and put a clean sheet on one side but she still looked like she was laying on some grotty hospital bed in a poor Eastern European Country with the bloody sheet peaking out from under her head. The nurses had been unable to clean the wound too since she had been in Kings which again wasn't going to help it heal and the internal bleeding hadn't slowed either.
We all tried to get Lauren to let them change her bed but our pleas fell on deaf ears. She has always been a stubborn cow but she seemed to be more stubborn than ever! As well as not allowing the nurses to clean the sheets, she was also kicking up a fuss when it came to having injections and blood tests. She's always had a phobia of needles and won't go to the doctors in fear of them sending her for a blood test and this hadn't changed. She had forgotten a fair bit but soon remembered her phobia when they attempted to take her blood. Knowing of her phobia of needles I had once tested our 'sister-ship' and asked her (before the accident) that if I needed a bone marrow transplant and she was my only match would she get over her fear of needles to save my life. Her reply "Of course I would silly". So I said to her in Kings "Do you remember when you said you would get over your fear off needles to save my life, well now is the time to get over your fear to save your own life". She nodded and little tears seeped out of her eyes when she whispered "I would for you but I can't for myself". I'm pretty sure my already broken heart broke into a few more pieces at that comment.
So this refusal of treatment continued for a few days as well as a refusal to eat anything. She had a drip in her hand which was obviously helping her but she hadn't eaten for almost a week so that was causing her to get weaker and not stronger. It then got worse when she said to Mum one day "Give me something so I can sign to say I don't want any further treatment". To hear that and to know that my sister seemed to have given up was devastating.
She was assessed by psychiatrists and psycologists arrived to talk to her and she was diagnosed as being 'mentally aware' so she knew exactly what she was saying and the eventual consequences. It was so frustrating, if she was under 18 or was assessed as being mentally unfit and needed to be 'sectioned' then Mum and Dad would be allowed to give the doctors permission for whatever they needed to do but no Lauren was an adult, it was her choice. All we could do was try to get her to accept the help. I tried, Dad tried, Mum, Sophie and Julie all did. Our Uncle Alan (Dads brother) arrived and he too tried but to no avail.
One night we were all sitting in the family room as Mum and Dad were talking to the consultant about Lauren's back operation when Dad just burst into the room, interrupting the calmess, and said "Lauren will die if she doesn't let them help her in the next couple of days.. You will lose a niece, you will lose a friend, you will lose your sister and I will lose my big girl". A stunned silence followed and I just wanted the ground to swallow me up right there. Dad wanted to basically rally the troops and get anyone and everyone up to the hospital who might be able to change her mind. About half hour later Dad arrived back with relief on his face. Confused we was like "what?!" and well he decription of what happened next is funny in a way. The consultant had apparently lost his temper with Lauren, took off expensive suit jacket, threw it on the chair and well didn't so much shout at Lauren but told her forcefully that he was going to give her an injection and he was going to look at her head and she was going to let him without a fuss and miraculously she allowed him. We don't know if it was the dramatics of the doctor or she had finally realised she wanted the help but either way the doctor saved her life from his bluntness with the reality of the situation and I could finally leave my 'funeral imagery' behind...
No comments:
Post a Comment