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Lucy A.

June 23, 2015

I am ... A Survivor

Bloody pushchair, I thought as I puffed my way up Winchester high street, hot and bothered disapointed with my one purchase , a Paperchase birthday card. This was meant to be mine and Teds big spend up to make up for the previous months many stays in hospital for the blasted susspected crohns disease, although 99% confirmed. A nice meal of dim sum will make up for the lack of spends. It was a Sunday afternoon in late October 2014, "Ted be careful" I said as a pot of chilli paste hit the floor, menus covered, Andy's lovely white converse now a nice shade of bright red, chilli spattered up the back of his jumper. A bowl of untouched noodles later, and a very tired one year old and it was time to head home. The rest of the day was pretty normal, the Sunday dreed of work the next day. You all know the drill. A strange burning in my nose and face. " I know, I must of touched the chillis". Monday morning, dam late for work again and no petrol, what a start to a crappy day. "Mike I can't move my right hand to log on, I think it must be my crohns steroids giving me a funny turn, and I can't talk very well I don't sound like me in my head. After some negotiating how I was to get out of the office, the suggestion of being wheeled downstairs on my offfie chair was not an option and trying to direct Andy around Bracknell to pick me up was a tough one. A phone call to good old mum would make me feel better, we were driving down the M4, and I was slightly worried I had caused A lot of fuss for no reason. Taking Mum and Andy's advice, A&E was the day out of choice, I can't really remember much, although the waiting for " no Mrs Able we can't find anything wrong, you are a big fat waste of our time" I was sure was coming, DIDNT Between then and Thursday morning a whole lot went down... Literally. No Mrs Able you still need to have the disgusting picolax drink in prep for your colonoscopy outpatient appointment booked in for tomorrow, and then we will wait for your Huband and Mum to go home and stick a head guard on you so you look like Hannible Lectre and put you in a tube to take some scans of your brain for 40 minutes or so whilst you try to hold in any signs that awful drink is working". Needless to say the scan didn't happen, even with telling myself we need to know what's wrong it was a good by from them and hello back on the ward. After a visit from my good friend Jacquie, I was convinced I was acting normally although apparently not. " you can go home tonight" said the nurse, we just need to check your temprature", you guessed it, one more night it was. "Andy I don't feel well again, can you come up this morning please". Thursday morning and a husband that couldn't understand me. All I really remember is a doctor rushing in and doing some tiggely thing with my foot and asking Andy to step outside. I suppose it was at this point they informed him, he's wife had suffered a stroke. Another MRI, this time sedated thank God confirmed a blood clot to the left main cortex had occurred. 3 days after the first symptoms I was taken by ambulance to my five star accommodation which would be Winchester hospital. After lots of upsetting and frustrating moments of realising my life had taken a drastict change for the worse I had some initial rehab to learn to swallow and try and talk. My sister was shocked why I was suddenly talking like Janet street Porter. We had so many laughs those first few weeks, from mum hiding in the toilet from the tea lady to whizzing to Costa in my wheelchair and Dads bad jokes. Even if it was hard to communicate. I was transferred back to Basingstoke and then finally home where the intense rehab started. The team were fantastic, although Mum did insist on telling the young, handsom, in a Ed Sheeren way Physio my toliet habbits, ermm Mum he is helping me walk. So after 8 weeks, 4 months before estimated I was back at work, hard going but key to normality, it was so hard. The story is never ending unfortunately. Diagnosed with a hole in the heart and two extremely painful bouts of pancreatitis from the crohns I am now enjoying a few months off work with the amazing Ted. Andy's still as supportive as ever, my two sisters and families are my rock, my in-laws have been fantastic and well my parents just get me completely, it's spooky. Ted you make me fall in love everyday. For those of you that are OCD about grammer......You are lucky I can type at all. My family say I have lost some of my filter, and Im often found in fits of laughter, so come join in its so much fun. I am not going to lie its tough worrying the crohns, heart or stroke will get me in the end but I'm getting there. Keep smiling x

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