Home time!!!!

Yes, the title of this next post is 'Home Time'...

Monday morning meant being seen by doctors and my consultant, as they don't do their rounds in the weekend. This involved them all standing at the end of the bed, with my notes, and mumbling stuff to each other, and even when they spoke to me I had to get them to repeat it as I couldn't bloody hear as I have been deaf in my left ear since my accident. I think they mentioned something about seeing how I was in the next few days, then maybe see about going home. Well that wasn't what I was hoping for! But later that morning, after the nurses had made my bed and I had had a wash, I was taken for another CT scan to check to see how my head was. Basically to see if the clot had reformed or if there was any new bleeding etc. So I was pushed in a wheel chair to the x-ray department, by a very lovely and friendly man, who asked me about the origins of my name. I had the CT scan without having to wait and was taken straight back to my bed. Shortly after this at midday, my consultant came to see me and said the best news I had heard "your CT scan showed that there was no more bleeding and it was all how it should be, so you if you can arrange to be picked up, you can go home today"...Horray, I was being let out! So, I immediately rang mum and asked if she could pick me up. Then I rang my dad to tell him the good news too. I spent the afternoon packing up my stuff and chatting to the other ladies on my ward, and showing them my scar and shaved head, as the consultant had removed the dressing to see how it was healing. But it was only when that had been removed, and I had glanced at myself in the mirror did I realise I had metal staples in my head! It hadn't even occurred to me about staples, as I just presumed I had stitches, I suppose I never really thought about it. This was a big shock at first, and had to look away from my reflection as I hated it.

This is what I was left with after the surgery; half a shaved head and a scar the length of my hand held together with metal staples. Having my hair shaved off was worse for me than the operation I think, as to me, my hair means a lot and my hair is a big part of me, as I have had long hair for years; I wouldn't be me without my hair! But I know it will grow back and the scar will heal, hopefully beyond recognition! It's just the memories and horrific time I had will be with me forever. I know I had to have this done to save my life, so I suppose I got off quite lightly as I could quite easily be 6 feet down!