Sunday 23rd September - Cast off left in A&E...

    You may have read in my earlier posts that my broken wrist wasn't noticed until almost 3 weeks after the accident when I couldn't use it to get into my wheelchair. Despite the fact that I could of made the break worse and the pain it was kind of a good thing because it meant they only left the cast on for 2 and a half weeks.
    On Sunday 23rd September the nurse said I would be having my cast taken off 'later'. It's an amazing hospital but when I had to have something done it generally took hours if not days and involved being wheeled around in the bed or chair trying to end up in the right place. I was even abruptly taken out of the toilet on the trauma ward with my nurse trying to keep my dignity and rushed to a heart scan that wasn't in any way for me!
    Anyway as usual it happened during visiting time! My friends Beckie and Ryan came to afternoon visiting with Joss that day. I think I had about 10 minutes with them before a porter showed up, most porters I had were lovely but some were not so. They showed up with a patient chair (picture below), I pointed out that I have my own actual wheelchair as I cant stand or walk, he looked annoyed. I couldn't of sat in his chair even if I wanted to as I have to use a special cushion to keep my pelvis in place! (cringey I know)

He went off to talk to a nurse and came back for me with my notes, he got me to carry them (pretty hefty pile I can tell you!) and Joss came with me. I told Beckie and Ryan I'd be as quick as possible and got taken away. The porter clearly had no idea where to take me and we ended up going through Resus and A&E, this was quite traumatic for me. Luckily there was no-one being rushed in or anyone in a bad state but it affected me a lot. Knowing I'd been rushed in from the helicopter people shouting things like 'female, 19, motorbike vs car....' I wouldn't of been taken into the a&e people wait in with broken ankles and lego in their nose but it was still upsetting. The porter pushed me into the room where they take casts off/put casts on said something to the poor doctor/nurse and buggered off. There was a woman in the room getting a cast luckily she wasn't bothered that I was in there! The man was trying to sort out why I was there, everyone (staff) was confused and shocked that I was an inpatient and had been brought down to a&e let alone left there! Thank god joss came with me! We had to go and wait in the corridor with other people waiting to be seen. I felt very self concious, I was sat in my wheelchair in my pjamas wrapped in a blanket. Obvious wounds and half my hair shaved off with a huge dressing on my head, with everyone else there like in normal clothes. 

Eventually the nurse took me to have my cast off, they literally use a round electric saw (I'd never broken anything before this) she said though that they couldn't x-ray it, I'd just have to put my splint on and wait back on my ward for xray. 

Guess what, that Xray was done at evening visiting time! Luckily I didn't need to have a cast put back on!

DRIVE SAFE, George xxx

Thursday 20th September - Moved to a shared room...

     The day after my second skin graft Joss and my mom were in the room with me when the sister came in and told me they had to move me to a shared room. They packed my things, unplugged my bed and wheeled me up the corridor and into this big empty room. I was crying because every change was so frightening to me. I had been in my own room for 5 weeks since leaving the intensive care unit and I liked it that way. Not because I was loving that I got a private room, but it was an ordeal every time I had to use the bathroom - the toilet in this room was on the opposite side of the room next to the other bed which was currently empty. I liked that in my own room I could just lie with the tv on and pretend none of this was real, I couldn't even use my laptop on this ward and I was worried about having to make conversation with whoever shared the room. I'm not the kind of person who can just shut the bed curtain and ignore someone but I was too weak to talk lots. The one plus of this room was there were a few high up small windows! An ounce of natural light!
   From this day I had a new person in my room everyday and quite frankly it was horrible. I will give you an outline of the 'one-nighters' without giving any info about them just in case! They were all women as you can't mix sexes in the 2 bed bays.
Night 1 - Burnt hands from sticking them in a bonfire. Snored so loud the nurse was actually distressed that I would be unable to sleep. Discharged next morning.
Night 2 - Planned operation. TV unbearably loud all night. Discharged next morning.
Night 3 - Thrown aerosol on fire 'sunburnt' face. Discharged next morning.
Night 4 - NO-ONE!
Night 5 - Tea spilt in lap. Dramatic antics. Discharged next morning.
Night 6 - Lovely old lady who had falleed until I left.n down the stairs (only available bed). Stayed until I left

    I hate to seem un-caring but it was very very hard to have sympathy for the majority of these. They kicked up more fuss than I had the whole time about very minor injuries and moaned like they were being kept in a prison. I also had a few thoughtless comments about a singed fringe when I was lying there with half a shaved scalp.
   But they weren't to know that I wasn't in the same vote as them (minus the obvious wheelchair and wires) and I'm glad that I was a rare incident. It's a good thing the nurses were shocked at how long I'd been in hospital and when they read my notes because it means that it's not common to be hit, run over and dragged down a road and it's not common to receive such a multitude of injuries. I hate that all this happened to me but I'm genuinley glad that it doesn't happen to many people because it's horrific.
DRIVE SAFE, George xxx

Tuesday 18th/Wednesday 19th September - Skin graft 2...

    On Tuesday 18th my 3rd day on the burns unit, I was woken up at 5am to have my water taken off me and be told I was going to theater that day for my second skin graft. When you're having surgery you get a 'Nil by mouth' sign on your door, literally meaning 'the patient cannot drink or eat anything'. So I was given my tablets with the tiniest sip of water after my obs and told I was second on the list for my operation. I was terrified of going 'under', less so than the first graft as I explained in the earlier post but after pulling myself out of a coma the thought of being put to sleep frightens me to death. My mom arrived at 10am (on the dot every day!) but at about 2pm my burns consultant (Mr VN) came into my room in his scrubs. His first operation had taken longer than he thought and he couldn't perform my graft today. I was gasping for a drink and gutted. I was so desperate to go home that when he said I could either wait for him to do it Friday or have his colleague do it tomorrow I opted or his colleague. I regret that slightly now.
   Wednesday 19th exactly a month to the day of the accident I had my second graft. I was taken down before my mom arrived and I was very anxious. I was less vulnerable than the first time, as in I could sit myself up and before I didn't even know where I was but I was very scared. I was scared about where they were going to take the donor skin from because that creates a scar in itself, I was scared about waking up, I was scared and so sad that I was even having to do this. My favorite health care assistant came down with me and I woke up a few hours later in the recovery room. After the first one I was so vulnerable and weak I used the bit of energy I had to thank the nurse for looking after me while I woke up but this time I felt more ok. I tried to feel a bandage and dressing to find where the skin had come from but I couldn't move my arms. When I got taken back to my room my mom came and sat with me.
I hate that the first operation I had they didn't wake me up, I remained in the coma and was wheeled back to my space in ITU still on life support.It frightens me and makes me feel weak, is any of this really happening?

Sunday 16th September - Moved to the Burns Unit...

  I had now been in hospital for exactly 4 weeks, most of which I had spent on the military trauma ward. I didn't want to be there but I had subconsciously become VERY attached to the ward namely the nurses. After my back was confirmed failed and infected it became clear that I needed to be moved to the hospitals burns unit for more specialist care. I needed to go but I didn't want to. When I left intensive care I was put in the Military trauma and orthopedics ward because I was a 'Poly-trauma' and had received SO many life threatening injuries - internal, external, structural...I had about 20 injuries.
  Anyway on Sunday the 16th September My mom had gone home and my step brother and his wife were visiting before my boyfriend Joss (rider of the bike) came in the evening. Half way through visiting my nurse for that day came in and told me they had a bed free on the burns unit so I was going down. I acted calm and OK because I didn't want to stress my brother out as they had to leave soon anyway. Inside I was freaking out though, I didn't want to leave my nurses that had become like a cross between medics and friends. I had LIVED in that room for almost 4 weeks, it was where I went when I was taken from the intensive care unit - a vulnerable, battered body that could barely speak.
  My nurse (the male one I mentioned last post) insisted on coming down with me to settle me in instead of just being taken by a porter. He stuck his head in before we went and said 'Im really going to miss you' and I could of cried it was such a strange emotion like I was leaving my family almost. He packed all my stuff up and I was taken to the unit on my bed so that I could keep the same bed. He took my wheelchair, transfer board and even the commode chair so I could have the same things.
  The burns unit is a unit not a ward. My room was still a private room and was in the high dependency area. It had no windows. The Burns unit is in the most appropriate place in the hospital in terms of critical care and theater proximity but this means there is no natural daylight. My room on 412 had a whole wall of glass, I could only see car park or road and I was so high up but it is invaluable. I even slept with my curtains open, you can't know claustrophobia until something like being completely trapped DYING underneath a car happens to you. So my room had NO windows it was literally a concrete box, the unit was a square with the nurses station/desk in the center like an island so even if my door was open I could just see a desk and more room doors. Upstairs I had my laptop so I could watch iplayer or look at facebook but here there was absolutely no signal even my phone could barely text. I was the only patient on the unit in a wheelchair with numerous broken bones as well as burns and wounds so I couldn't go off the unit unless it was visiting and I was able to get into my chair. I'll also point out that the toilet in my room which had the disabled sign on it was the size of a wardrobe so my wheelchair didn't fit and I had to remain buzzing to be put onto he commode and wheeled into the toilet and vise versa. It wasn't a bad place at all and you didn't have to pay for the telly (most wards like my other were about £20 for 3 days and I was in a LONG TIME) as there was no internet signal and the telly's weren't very reliable. That night was very hard, Joss left me his hoodie and as soppy as that sounds I really needed it. I was very lonely, my nurses were lovely but I didn't know them yet and they were reading my notes whereas upstairs had had me from ITU. I couldn't see anything but walls and I was so frightened they wouldn't let my mom in the next morning as she had special allowances on the trauma ward as I was so young and had so many injuries.
DRIVE SAFE, George x

First glimpse of the burn...(fairly graphic description)

     The last post and this one do not have dates in the title as they either span a period of time or I can't remember the exact day.
    The week they were desperatley trying to clear the infection from the failed skin graft on my back was about 3 weeks after the crash. But I still hadn't really seen the extent of any of my external injuries and they were dressed or in places I couldn't see. I couldn't even turn my head enough to see my shoulder when they changed the dressings and obviously not my scalp, so I had NO idea what the situation with my back was really. Infact it hadn't even occured to me that they would all obviously become scars I would have forever.
    As I explained last post, the daily infection routine involved being put in the wet room and my burn undressed and washed. On this particular day my nurse left the room after washing the burn to find some more dressing packs. The water turned off and I felt instantly cold so I reached for the shower 'on' button. The shower was turned on and off by this large silver 'button' type thing. (I happened to find a picture of a bathroom on ward 412 which I was on...below)

     As I put my arm forward I caught a glimpse of my side in the silver. I thought it was someone else and looked behind me, obviously there was no-one there. The burn is from my left side on my waist/hip and follows round my back to my spine, it is rectangular as it was caused by my back becomming stuck and melted to the drivers exhaust. The only way I could describe it was 'zombie bite'. It wasn't just red, it was green, yellow, white, black, bubbled, mangled and oozing. It looked like it had been chewed . The burn was full thickness and so went through every layer which meant it also 'scooped' in like something really had just bitten a massive chunk out of me.
   I felt shocked, horrified, scared, alone, ugly and mostly like none of this was really happening.

Treating the infection...an hour in the bathroom...

  The day my infection treatment started (over 3 weeks after the accident) was pretty eventful...
So incase you havn't read all the posts very briefly, by this point I had had my urinary catheter removed and when I needed the toilet I was transferred to a commode which luckily fitted over the toilet in my bathroom, then I had to use the buzzer again to be brought from the toilet and put back into bed. Anyway on this day (12th september) as most days, my mom left before afternoon visiting and put me into/onto the toilet before Joss arrived. (I got her to do this because I hated buzzing the nurses everytime I needed the loo as I felt they were busy doing more important things) So when I was ready I tried to see if I could reach the flush myself yet, I still couldn't and noticed that the seat was covered in blood which was dripping off the side. It was coming from my back/burn. I pulled the buzzer cord and waited about 5 minutes. Then a male health care assistant came in and looked shocked like he'd walked in on someone by accident. I explained that people had to bring me back to bed and that I was worried as there was blood pouring out of me. He said he would go and get the nurse (could of taken me off the loo first!), so I sat waiting, and waiting...eventually I heard Joss's voice which meant I had been on the loo waiting for 45 minutes. He came in, I told him about the blood and he went into the corridor ''my girlfriends been left in the toilet nearly an hour''. Don't get me wrong the nurses were horrified and it had been a miss-comunication, the sister thought he had brought me back to bed!
   She came straight in got me out and into bed and looked at my back, the bleeding had slowed but she decided now would be a good time to take my staples out. Having staples pulled out feels exactly like having staples pulled out of your skin. I don't know how many there were but they went the entire way round my burn holding the skin (which died) on. So I'd say 30 or more probably. It hurt like fuck, I could feel them being pulled out of the healthy skin they were anchored into.
  After this and the meeting with my new consultant mr VN I needed daily infection treatment. This involved being put onto the commode chair in the morning, wheeled into the bathroom under the shower area. The nurse then had to remove my pjamas and underwear, put a towel over my crotch for 'dignity' *what's dignity again I cant remember anymore? then a carier bag over my wrist cast and angle me so other dressings didn't get wet. They soaked the dressing so it hurt less to pull off, showered water over the burn and washed it with special stuff. That REALLY hurt every day, I always said it was fine because i hate making fuss at nurses but JESUS having someone rub a massivley infected full thickness burn is the second most painful thing I have ever experienced (second to being rolled onto a smashed pelvis and snapped leg). Then they washed my hair and body, dried me and dressed me. People probably think, 'oh god how embarrassing' but having my hair washed under a real shower instead of in bed in an inflatable bowl was incredible. I was in too much pain and too vulnerable to care about these amazing people having to see me naked and wash and dress me and wipe my ass. THEN once dried and partailly dressed came the infection clearing wound dressing, I had to have betadine soaked gauze strapped all over the burn. which always soaked bright orange through my pjamas, bedding, everything!
  I actually didn't mind the dressing part of the day as I always had a joke with wichever nurse I had as they got orange everywhere and competed to see who could strap it better so less leaked out, one of my favourite nurses frank even joked about seeing me naked on our first meeting. He was quite young and little things like that, that genuinley made me laugh made me feel a little more human again.
DRIVE SAFE, George x

Wednesday 5th September - 10th September Ups and DOWNS...

  It may read as though I'm skipping days throught this blog, I'm writing it from a diary my mom kept whilst I was in hospital to keep track of what happened when, for the solicitors.
  These were a stressful few days (everyday was but these more so...). On Wednesday the 5th September DAY 18 in hospital, my Vacum dressing was removed from my back (full thickness burn and graft) again. Once again this happened out of nowhere for me as a team of doctors, students and a consultant came into my room and talked about me to eachother while my nurse came in as fast as possible to try and get down what they were doing, so that I would know and so it would also be in my notes! They made me sit forward for this which was marginally better than being rolled but I had to hang on to my nurse to hold myself up and it killed my back, my pelvis, my legs everything. The removal itself hurt a lot, they peeled it off pretty fast but the thing is completley, air and water tight so it sticks pretty hard. They peered at the burn and muttered to themselves that it didnt look good 'here or here' but was probably 80% taken. That means 80% of the skin stapled onto the burn had survived and was doing well. They re-dressed it with a fabric dressing and special pads. They also pulled the dressings off my head, shoulder and hip and left them open for the nurse to try and figure out what they wanted doing with them! That was the first time I had seen my shoulder and hip injuries and they were pretty nasty. They called it 'road damage' or 'road burns' and basically where I had been dragged 10m under a car the tarmac had ripped through my jeans and 100% leather jacket and basically dragged and rubbed big patches of skin off me. My hip skin was hanging off and so was stitched back on and I have large areas of scar tissue which were once essentially gaping holes. The same happened to my head, my helmet was driven over and ripped up at some point and my scalp was rubbed away to my skull on the right side. Hense the hair removal, LUCKILY my hair has grown back through some of the scar tissue on my scalp and so they can cut out the remainder of scar tissue and pull it together to create a straight line scar. Which if you'd seen my head in A&E should be absolutley amazing!
  On Friday 7th September my wrist was comfirmed broken. One of the first things I recall when I came out of the coma was telling the nurses my wrist hurt (I couldnt feel my lower body so it didnt hurt at that time) they told me it was probably just a sprain because they had done a full body scan...Nope 3 weeks later it was 100% broken and put in plaster! Meaning I only had one un-damaged are (my left arm).
  Monday 10th September was heartbreaking really. It was DAY 23 and I was told I may be able to be transferred to a nearer hospital if I carried on progressing well, I was desperate to go home and really hoping for that. I met Mr VN (Im not sure if Im allowed to use his full name so I wont!) this day, he is a very senior burns and plastics consultant, he's also a wing commander in the army and runs private plastic surgery clinics in london. He had been told about me and wanted to take over as my burns consultant. He looked at my back, didn't order someone else to take off the dressings and actually spoke TO me! Sadly he took one look at my back and was absolutley certain the graft had completley failed and that the wound was becomming extremley infected. He was furious that someone had looked at it and told us it was 80% taken becuase it was 0% taken. They told me I'd have to go straight onto antibiotics, have my back treated everyday and when it was clear repeat the whole skin graft procedure. I was completley devastated I couldnt believe any of this had happened and just wanted to go back and never leave the house that day. I still do.