Good Friday, 10 April 2009, and a very ‘good’ Friday it is for us too!  So many things conspired seemingly against us to quit the Rally early and ultimately return to Spain far sooner than we had ideally intended……. A world wide recession reduced our income making it more sensible to remain in Malaysia where Anahi could be maintained and kept safely within our now limited budget; a collapsed business, a few personal upsets which wore us down; two sets of tenants moving out of our home and apartment in Spain at exactly the same time; two small needy ‘campo’ cats who have been spoiled and wouldn’t survive alone; damp and general maintenance requiring immediate attention; the list is longer – anyhow with a firm belief that we should now ‘follow The Flow’ and generally quieten down and take each day as it came, we flew home.

 

We spent a great week in the UK visiting family and friends, thoroughly enjoying all their warmth and hospitality, before heading back to Spain.  Paul had had a brief tummy upset which immodium put a quick halt to, he felt a little giddy and had a rest off the motorway and an early night, but nothing you wouldn’t expect with a mild dose of food poisoning…….

 

We had a good journey home, hired a car at the airport, decided to stay one night at our now un-let apartment midway to our home to save us the journey up the hill into the countryside where we live….another early night with a hot toddy………

 

6.30am on the 25^th  Paul got up to go to the loo – keeled over, cracked his head open on the marble skirting board and lost consciousness; his hair neatly sliced off with the impact and fell in a halo around his head soaking up the blood – I am ashamed to say with my medical moment upon me at last I didn’t have a single medicinal item to hand or piece of knowledge to help him; not even the number of a Spanish ambulance.   Our neighbours came to the rescue and within 45 minutes we were off to Motril Hospital.  With two new sim cards in our phones (so no telephone numbers) no battery on the computer, no Spanish money and no spare clothes or toiletries – we were moribund for 15 days without much communication. 

 

The medical team were fantastic – they stitched his head and began exhaustive tests to find the cause of the collapse - an endoscope discovered a burst peptic ulcer – he had been bleeding internally for three days but the immodium had arrested the flow. A laser cauterised it, he was put back on the general ward where I stayed the night beside him in a chair which is the custom in Spain; we fully expected to go home within a day or two.  Unfortunately he carried on loosing blood, 15 pints in all and as fast as the transfusions were going in, it was flowing out, all night the limited nursing team struggled whilst I had him not perched on the ‘bed pan’ but immersed in a huge round washing up bowl to catch the flow.  Eventually he fitted and I thought we had lost him……..

 

In the morning he returned to surgery thinking that the ulcer had somehow started bleeding again - but it was fine – this meant there was something else haemorrhaging but we couldn’t find it and it was Friday afternoon and the surgeon of gastronomy was off for the weekend – all we could hope for was to keep him stable and alive until Monday.  His family flew over and the priest hovered outside but he made it through, now with two endoscopes searching the tracts and eventually the culprit was found midday Monday – a massive burst duodenal ulcer – anaemia had set in and diabetes too.  We spent eleven more days of convalescence together on a wonderful general ward with two other men and their caring partners all waking and sleeping and commiserating together.  This is a Spanish custom. There was no modesty left amongst us – we became as close as you can get and even though we could hardly understand one word the other spoke it formed no barrier.  Paco had been in a coma and his return back from the ‘other side’ was emotional to say the least – our neighbour had had a heart attack but daily grew stronger.  We had as many as 20 Spanish visitors with us in the ward at any one time from 8.00am to 1l.00pm at night, a customary social occasion, and they checked up on us too!  All Paul’s veins in his arms collapsed and the food drip absorbed into the soft tissue by mistake and this has been the most painful reminder of the whole episode.

 

 

Home and safe…….

 

He is alive!  He is home (at the apartment) and thank God or The Flow which brought us back to Spain just in time;  I have over £3,000 worth of medical equipment on board Anahi – oxygen bottles, a fribulator, epi pens, anti biotics, more neck braces and bandages you could shake an old stick at - but 15 pints of blood?  He would have died, of that there is no doubt…………………

 

 

Alive to see another sunrise from our balcony……

 

 

And the moon…..

 

 

 

MEMORIES OF A DARK TIME

 

Lying here on blue plastic chairs

Wrapped in rugs, three silent pairs

Of strangers thrust together so

A hospital ward; the lights dimmed low

 

Eleven nights and eleven morns

Not knowing if there will be three dawns

For the three poor men stricken down

We three carers, beside but alone

 

 

The plaintive wailing in the night

So near to death with so much fright

The smell of blood, the heaving chest

The fearful eyes no longer jest

 

‘Will I live – or will I die?’

‘You’re out of danger now’ – I lie

The wild eyed fit before the dawn

your rigid frame – I start to mourn

 

A puny bed pan to catch the blood

A washing up bowl stems the flood

Fifteen pints of blood donated

I wonder where it originated

Fit and healthy kindly souls

Have saved a life – achieved their goals

 

Veins collapsed and purple blue

The needles searching, hurting you

Two endoscopes in a throat so sore

Can’t bear to see you suffer more

 

Not one burst ulcer, there were two

One hidden deep – oh where are you?

The priest he hovers by the door

Keen to save just one soul more

 

Our doctor’s beauty – with shiny curls

Red shoes click on marble; girls

Rushing in and men rushing out

Intensive care - there is no doubt

Has saved the lives of these three men

So they can wake and play again

 

And play they do – like children now

Dancing in nighties – they make a vow

To keep in touch and meet one day

As they clutch their zimmers; giddy sway

 

The tears they roll down every cheek

We’ve all escaped the tightest squeak

It makes us humble – so very meek

Answers moral questions that we seek…..