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.