27th September - Discharged from hospital...

I struggle to start all of these posts but this one is especially hard. 'Discharged' sounds so final but it was just the beginning really.
I had to see the doctors and they explained that we were keeping the wound/burn clear of infection with the dressings and letting it heal over because the skin grafts hadn't worked. Then they would look into more surgery in the future. I would be coming back to the Queen Elizabeth pretty much every week as I would have appointments with -

• Nurse clinic for dressing changes 
• My Burns consultant 
• My trauma&orthopedics consultant
• Xray's - Pelvis, hip, femur (thigh), wrist
• Physiotherapy
• Psychotherapy
• My Liver consultant
  
                                                       My new second home QEHB
  

I spent the day in hospital having blood tests and waiting for my prescriptions to go through for my medications to take home. I was eventually discharged at about 5pm. Mum helped me into some horrible tracksuit bottoms and a jumper and shoes! Pretty much hadn't worn clothes or shoes for 6 weeks.
I then went round to give cards to those I wanted to thank. I left one at the burns unit and then Joss took me round to Critical care unit C, the intensive care ward I was on. I had a card for the nurse I had on the Tuesday (the day I woke up) and the nurse I had on the Wednesday. It was scary going in there again because I didn't know what it looked like before I was either in a coma or barely conscious. On there you have one to one nursing and the state I was in I got very attached to those nurses. Then I went up to 412 my main 'home' for my time in hospital. I had a collective card and chocolates for the staff and one for my favourite nurse. It's hard to explain the attachment and not everyone who's been in hospital will have it, I think the extremely vulnerable mental and physical state I was in and my age meant they were more than medical carers to me.

I had my first post hospital cry when we got to the car, I realized I needed to pee and if I waited til I got home I would have to go in the commode in my new downstairs bedroom. Kindly Joss and mom took me back to hospital to use that toilet but it was sinking in what being at home was going to be like. Joss made a status 'Georgia's coming home!' it got 63 likes, but I wasn't happy to be home. I cried when I saw the ramps to get inside, I cried when I went into our beige dining room and there was a double bed with a back support a special table and the dreaded commode. I cried when I had to use the commode. Joss tried his best and got some scarves and photos from my real bedroom to try and make it better, I must of seemed so ungrateful but I was absolutely heart broken. I didn't know who I was anymore.

                                                  Not the actual commode I cant face that!

                                       The same luxury back support I have to have on my bed...

DRIVE SAFE, George xxx