Major catchup!...

I always sit down to update this blog and then end up not writing anything so now I have loads of things to write about! 
I'm going to try and keep each thing short and sweet and rambling to a minimum..

On the 5th December (was that really almost 4 months ago?!) I jetted off to Budapest with Joss and two close friends for another 21st birthday celebration, I mean if you can't go clubbing you have to have two trips right? It was a fantastic few days but I did struggle with the wheelchair a little and had some low times thinking about how different my 21st should of been. Although the hostel was pretty wheelchair friendly and I managed to get to the bathroom there with my crutches or sticks. All in all it was great to get away with some of my biggest supports and best friends.

The trusty chair in it's 3rd country!

 

On the 23rd December I moved back up to my old upstairs bedroom after 16 months sleeping in the bedroom my parents had to make for me in our front room, in order for me to come home from hospital. I started off in that room barely able to transfer from my wheelchair into my bed with a board and with a commode in there, but it was still hard moving back upstairs. After I first went back into my room I decided to have it painted a different colour to make it easier but it still didn't feel like 'my room'. I think it's because I feel so different from the 'old' me now and I probably subconsciously thought everything would be back to normal when I went back. I'm slowly accepting I won't be exactly the same ever again, no part of my life will be the same but that doesn't have to be a bad thing. 

On Christmas eve I had an appointment with my burns and plastics consultant to review my scalp surgery (read about that here), at the review it was decided that I will have the surgery repeated to improve the size further and hopefully that will help with the pain and pulling of the hair around it. I also had some painful steroid injections into part of my shoulder scars that are hypertrophic in the hope it will break down some of the tissue and help with the pain. Most of my scars are hypertrophic..

''A hypertrophic scar is a cutaneous condition characterized by deposits of excessive amounts of collagen which gives rise to a raised scar, but not to the degree observed with keloids.^[1] Like keloids, they form most often at the sites of pimples, body piercings, cuts and burns. They often contain nerves and blood vessels. They generally develop after thermal or traumatic injury that involves the deep layers of the dermis and express high levels of TGF-β.
When a normal wound heals, the body produces new collagen fibers at a rate which balances the breakdown of old collagen. Hypertrophic scars are red and thick and may be itchy or painful. They do not extend beyond the boundary of the original wound, but may continue to thicken for up to six months. They usually improve over the one or two years, but may cause distress due to their appearance or the intensity of the itching; they can also restrict movement if they are located close to a joint.
Some people have an inherited tendency to this type of scarring'' wikipedia

The 3rd January was both the one year anniversary of me standing up and my first driving lesson since before the crash. I may need to have an automatic but I am determined to learn and pass in a manual if possible because I feel it is an advantage to be able to drive a manual if needs be. Having a car would be so helpful to me as I can't walk anywhere but could get out more independently if I could drive to my destination. It's definitely very emotionally hard being in a car and I am filled with panic but I'm focusing in how much it would aid my recovery.

The 8th January was my five year anniversary with Joss! I intend to do a full post at some point about everything he has done for me but we'll save that for a really soppy day! 

For the 16th and 17th January I was in London with mom to see a ballet as her 50th birthday present from me! I used my wheelchair for 90% of the trip but was able to use sticks to get on and off escalators without which we wouldn't have been able to use the tube at all. My barely 5ft tall mom had to carry my wheelchair while I clung on to the escalators and you would be shocked at how few people offered to help! Just being able to do that though is massive progress for me. The ballet was called La Corsaire and was a sort of pirate love story, I enjoyed it a lot more than I expected to be honest and the skill of the dancers is just amazing.

 

Last but certainly not least Joss had an operation on his shoulder! His first operation date was cancelled pretty much just before the anesthetist came to see him! And he ended up having it three weeks later on the 17th February (his 22nd birthday). He dislocated his collar bone in the crash which was treated with a sling and left but as it was causing him pain again 18 months on they basically pushed it back down and secured it into place with an artificial ligament. It was very painful and he wasn't allowed to drive for 5 weeks which was hard on both of us as I can't walk anywhere we were pretty stuck, but he's doing really well now and is back driving phew!

 

Now I hope this post wasn't too boring as I was trying to cram in too many things but I really am going to try and update this more often as i find it really helpful even just to myself. 

Thank you to everyone that ever reads this blog and to all the people who give me feedback on it. It gives me a place to express myself, see my progress and hopefully help any other people in the mean time. I absolutely love hearing from people and would love some comments if anyone has any :)

DRIVE SAFE, George xxx

OCT 2012 missing hospital - what the hell?! + How I shower etc with no downstairs bathroom...

  So I spent an agonizing 6 weeks in hospital desperate to get home only to get home and wish I was back there...
You're all probably thinking 'what the hell?' 'Is she crazy?' 'why would anyone want to be in hospital?!'. And it is extremely hard to explain but this blog is for me to keep an honest accurate account of this accident and my recovery and this is how I felt.
   Don't get me wrong before this I never sat at home thinking 'I really wish I could be in a horrible accident' and while I was in hospital I did not enjoy it. But I didn't really 'get' what being home would be like...I didn't come home to my bedroom I had to move into our front room. To get into the house I have to use ramps so I'm a prisoner in my own home unable to enter or leave alone. I cannot go upstairs at all. We have no downstairs bathroom, this means as a 19 year old female I have to have a commode chair in my fake bedroom which my mother has to empty. The ONLY reason I'm talking about every aspect of this horrific crash and it's results (even the most embarrassing and soul destroying) is because I think it's important for people to see how this driver's dangerous choices have ****** up my life. To shower I have to be taken to my parents friends house as they have a disabled access downstairs shower. This means I can only shower twice a week and involves packing two cars with me, my ramps, my wheelchair, my transfer board, commode chair (doubles as shower chair) and clothes, wash stuff and towels.   I have to be wheeled in up my ramps through their living room, mom puts the chair in the shower base puts my wheelchair next to it, I transfer with the board, she puts the towels ect. out and leaves. I shower as best I can and then text her to come and do my back dressing and reverse the procedure to go home. YES it's good that they can even offer me showers at their house but it's degrading and exhausting.

                                          Ramps to get in and out of my front door (can't use backdoor)

Anyway back to missing hospital. In the middle of October I had my first of many 'trauma reviews', these involved me going to the QE to have xrays and a meeting with my trauma/orthopedic/bones consultant. From  day 1 I have been completely strictly NO weight bearing this means I cannot put ANY weight through EITHER of my legs and must use a wheelchair and transfer boards. I was not even allowed to be rolled onto my right side because I had a big fracture in my hip socket. At this review I spent hours waiting for xray and then a meeting with one of 'Mrs bones consultants' registrars (doctors). Just to receive BAD news...still NO weight bearing at all. I have about 7 breaks in my pelvis and hip socket, and my left thigh was so badly snapped they had to remove a section before plating it and it had not began to grown back and the pelvic fractures had not begun to heal.

It was the last straw really. I felt SO depressed - why had this happened? why me? why didn't the grafts work? why did I have to use a fake toilet when the person who did this to me was fine? I missed hospital, at least in hospital I could use a toilet now I could transfer. I really bonded with some nurses which is a weird thing because you spend so much time with them and then just leave. And you know what people care more when you're in hospital, I had been inundated with cards and flowers (which sadly died before I got home!) and now I needed visitors more than ever now I was living in my own version of hell no-one really came round.

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

Wednesday 26th September - First real shower!!!

   So as I have said many times before my 'washing situation' was weird and always changing...
Briefly -

• Intensive care - Rolled and wiped down to try and prevent bed sores. Agony.
• 1st 3 weeks on Trauma ward - Rolled and bed bathed daily by nurses.
• 4th Week on Trauma ward - Showered on special chair daily to clear burn infection.
• 1st week and a half on Burns Unit - Hair washed over special bath by nurses and only allowed to wash at sink to not get graft VAC dressing wet. 

So Monday My graft was again confirmed failed but they decided to try and help the wound heal with dressings. Wednesday  morning my nurse came in and asked if I wanted a shower?..erm YES!

She helped me onto the commode toilet/shower chair and wheeled me into 'my' bathroom (I was allowed to use the treatment bathroom as mine because of the wheelchair). Wheeled me into the far corner where the shower is, helped me undress and took my backdressing off, wrapped my donor site dressing in a bin liner and...LEFT!
First time in 6 weeks I was in a bathroom in the shower alone, no cast wrapped in a bag! She left all my wash things on another chair next to me and I had to figure out how to do it all myself! It was a lot harder than you probably think, trying to wash my 'hair' (the half left) without touching the big skinned section of my scalp and my shoulder injury's. I was desperately trying to avoid touching my burns and I couldn't bend down or wash the backs of my legs but it was AMAZING!


When I was done I pulled the nurse cord and she came back, followed by a team of doctors. She asked them to wait outside while she came through the privacy curtain and helped my dry and dress my bottom half. Then I had to hold a towel over my chest so the doctors could come and look at my back. After my mum arrived and a conversation with her the decided if she felt confident to do my infection control dressing I could be discharged tomorrow! I will add she was allowed to do it because she is a midwife and so understands how to perform infection control and I would be coming in every week to see the nurses here anyway. So they showed her exactly what to do and I eventually went back to my bed very excited indeed!

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

Monday 3rd September...No more Catheter or PCA Plenty of infection...

 This post is quite personal, they all are but I think bodily functions are always more embarrassing to talk about! I'm writing it anyway because this blog is also a way of me keeping a diary because I keep forgetting to actually write in mine (Im using it to write these because we had to keep one for the solicitors from day one). Also I want to capture every detail because these sort of things don't cross peoples minds when they think of crashes, so if you don't want to know about me going to the toilet by all means don't read it haha
  3rd September over two weeks since the crash. I had spent all of this time with a 'urinary catheter' this was put in when I arrived as it was pretty obvious I wasnt going to be able to go to a toilet anytime soon. Also while I was in a coma I was being pumped with fluids so obviously your bladder still needs to empty but you cant go so the tube goes all the way into the urethra (don't worry I wont be attatching any photos! aha) and continually drains into a box/bag. This stayed in for so long because my injuries were so severe i could not even use a bed pan regularly. But after over two weeks it had to come out because of the high infection risk. I was terrified. I thought it takes a few nurses and a lot of pain to get from my bed onto the commode chair and if theyre busy they wont answer my buzzer quickly. Plus I hadn't felt the need or gone for a wee in over two weeks, I think I forgot that you don't suddenly need the loo then wet yourself...So anyway they took it out at midnight (not something you want to be woken up for) I don't know if it hurt going in as I was in a coma but it stung coming out! You have to pee within six hours or you need another put in and I went at 5.55am I like to live on the edge! Anyway it wasn't as bad as I thought, I had a commode (basically a chair with a hole in that you can fit a pot under to be used as a toilet) luckily while I was in hospital the commode chair actually fitted over the toilet in my 'en-suite' so once I was on it the nurse could just push me in and it was basically the same as using the toilet I just had to buzz for them to come and get me out. They also had to pull my bottoms up/down for the first week because I couldn't move to lift or adjust like you normally could. Actually it wasn't even embarrassing I was so weak, so vulnerable and in constant agony I really didn't care. I didn't care when I had to be bed bathed naked and rolled over so someone could wash my back and I didnt care that someone had to wipe my ass at 19. But think about that when you think 'I'll just speed through here I'm going to be late' or think about showing off in your car. I didnt care because I didnt have the ability to care at that point.
  My PCA (patient controlled analgesia-morphine) was also taken away. Funnily enough they don't really like you to be filling yourself with an opiate for more than two weeks! Luckily I was still allowed Oramorph (drinkable morphine) whenever I wanted it because jesus did I need it. Skin stapled to a huge burn on your back, countless broken bones burst liver and road burns really fucking hurt. Plus my donor site on the back of my thigh was really starting to hurt...when my nurse took the dressing off it was pretty clearly infected! With pseudomonas to be presise.
  This meant I had to have betadine soaked gauze and a new dressing put on it and more antibiotics! Betadine either is iodine or has iodine in it (I cant remember!) but that means its bright orange and soaks through everything!
DRIVE SAFE, George xxx