Welcome Home!

Mum had orginally said that she never wanted to come back to the house again, because that was her and Dads house, but as she spent time thinking about it in Hospital, she decided that she should go back and she how she felt. She was in her wheelchair, and got pushed into the house ... and then left alone. It's what she wanted, time alone in the nest that her and her soul mate had shared so many memories in.

During the time of Mum being in Hospital, I had to find a house for me, A and the baby to move into. Luckily, I found one within a week of looking, so we had moved in just before Christmas. So that when Mum returned home, it would just be her and Jess, no stress from too many bodies in the house.

Mum had a stairlift fitted in her house, but she refused to use it, and bum shuffled up and down the stairs. It was funny to watch, and a classic example of her personality. I went to visit every day, and again ... we decided to make another Rota for "carers". It was decided that me, Nan & Grandad and my Auntie S (Mums sister) would care for Mum throughout the week.

After a few days at home Mum started to relax, she was back in her natural environment. We had to go to the Mobility Centre regularly so that Mum could have her prosthetic leg made and fitted. And so she would eventually learn to walk again. And she was determined! As she was about everything, she told me ... "I will walk again, there's no doubt about that."

Mum had to go to London to have intensive physio, and it felt like a part of me was lost. I rang her everyday to see how she was, probably to make myself feel better! My mum is my best friend, and after spending every day with her, it was weird and unnatural for her to be gone for a week and me not see her. When she came back she was very tired, but of course I went to see her!!

She was recovering very well, apart from one thing ... that huge bloody prefix on her arm. The cage had to go ...

Life Goes On ...

As time went by, and Mum recovered in Hospital, life at home had to continue.

J went back to school, my brother went back to work and I continued to look after my baby and run the house. But every evening, after the busy day had gone by, we would go back to the hospital and sit with our Mummy, bring her naughty treats and tell her about our days.

Every day was a huge step. Sitting up by herself, holding a cup, feeding herself, taking herself to the toilet ... but most of all ... smiling, and laughing. It's what we all needed. It seemed like such a long time ago that we sat in that cold hospital room and the Nurse had told us not to expect our Mum to live. And now, here she was eating Brownies and being cheeky to the nurses, nearly back to her normal self!

We would talk about Dad almost every hour of every day. He was such a huge part of our lives that there was no way that it could be ignored, and no way it would want to be. Everyone got upset, everyone cried. But that was important for our grieving, we needed to do that to be able to move on. Dad wouldn't want us sitting at home feeling sorry for ourselves ... he'd want us to remember the good times.

After 3 Months, on January 17th ... Mum came home.

Recovery

As time went by, mum grew stronger. She was woken up at 4.00pm on Thursday and we were sat by her bedside as she came round. It was so hard sitting there, she cried for what seemed like hours. She had known that Dad had died, as she had been concious the whole time of the crash, but she hadn't known about her leg.

I stood next to her, stroking her hair, telling her everything would be ok ... but she had lost her right leg. But this was nothing, she had lost her husband, nothing could be worse than that. I remember her saying over and over ... "This is the longest day of my life." ... and to be honest, it was the longest week of ours.

After a few days Mum was able to speak a lot better and began to tell us what had happened, although it was so difficult for her, running it through her head again and again. But she felt we needed to know, and so she was strong - as she always is - and told us.

Over the week following the accident Mum grew stronger and stronger, and eventually was moved from Intensive Care to a Amputee Ward. That was the best thing to come from this horrible situation. It meant that Mum was safe and strong enough that she would not need 24 hour monitoring. She was moved into her own private room, althouh it was a box and you could hardly move, it was a place where we could gather and just cuddle our mummy.

She didn't want to be left alone, at all. Mum is a very organised person, and so, we compiled a Rota for everyone to know when they should come in and spend time with her. Days, and nights were covered. Everyone was there beside her, being strong and showing support.

If I could, I would have been there every day and every night. But it just wasn't possible, I had a 3 month old baby, and there were things that needed sorting out at home. Calls to make, people to see, and life to carry on with.

I tried to take my mind off of the emotional stress by going shopping, keeping myself busy. Cleaning, cooking ... picking up on old things that had never been finished and needed to be done. I guess that was my way of coping. I felt I needed to stay strong for my Mum, and for my brother and sister. I think that was the best way for me to cope, and it helped.

We were told that Mum would be in Hospital for a long time, not weeks ... months.