I wouldn't advise you break your kneecap!

 I had never suffered a serious injury. Minimal hospital visits in twenty-three years with nothing more than an overnight stay, an odd allergic reaction, and a serious case of vomiting when I was eleven. I've always been healthy and aside from a case of health anxiety leaving me waiting in A&E for hours only to be reassured I didn't have a brain tumor I had never suffered anything serious. 

Seven weeks ago, however, on the way to the gym, my stupid self took a fall landing straight on my knee and breaking my kneecap not only in half but the bottom half into three pieces. The floor was super slippery thanks to the rain and despite knowing it would be difficult to walk in that area especially in my cheap Primark trainers I believed I would be okay. evidently, I was wrong. I'm forever haunted by the sound of my bones breaking. even as I sit here and type this my skin goes cold just thinking about it! It sounded so strong, so clear and in the moment I just knew it was serious. My first thought as I lay there on the floor was how important it was I stayed calm. Thankfully I was with my mum and called her over to turn around and simply told her id broken my knee and needed her to call the ambulance. I tried my best to stay in control and calm and while I did cry a couple of times it was the thought of losing my leg, dying and the idea of surgery that brought me to tears, not pain; in fact, I didn't feel any pain at all. It just felt, empty and when I touched it I couldn't feel any bone, it was like a sack of water. I remained calm most of the time and snapped myself out of panic knowing it wouldn't help and focused on my breath. Of course, the floor was freezing cold, the rain was still pouring and my fave leggings were destroyed beyond repair! I must also mention that people staring at you while is certainly annoying is not something you care about in this situation! The paramedic soon arrived ( a very attractive woman who I very confidently hit on after too much gas and air. I have to admit that she was brilliant. she kept me calm and reassured me. I remember the win making it difficult for her to inject me and the blood that went all down my arm. The gas and air took away any pain I may have felt but again, I don't remember feeling a thing! This drug also managed to make me extremely confident and was the best high I've ever experienced! a tank and a half down I was certainly calm. 

The wait at the hospital was brutal! I will forever feel sorry for the two brilliant nurses who helped me pee from the bed. using pads and having them wipe me and lift me on my side was embarrassing to say the least but these two women had such a calm approach that they managed to make me feel comfortable and not like a total annoying little bitch. I don't remember the first x-ray thanks to the morphine and all the other drugs they had me on but a few hours later my worse fears were confirmed and i was finally told I would need surgery after breaking my left patella. The brilliant doctor who delivedred the news didn't waste any time and was blunt and honest, something I came to be gratful for.He went on to inform me that aside frrom moprhine no pain relife would touch the pain I would be in and asked me to rank the pain level at the time. Now, I have to admit, I sat in A&E for hgours and even befor that had expereinced minimal pain, this included hours before being given morphine and found the pain to be no more than a seven at most. 

I was told because of this not being a life-threatening situation I may be waiting a few days for the surgery and they asked if it was possible for me to go home and wait for the surgery day. If I'm being honest this stunned me. How I was expected to go home like this was something I didn't understand and I was pretty angry especially considering I had so many stairs to go up and in that moment I could'nt piss without someone lifting my ass. Eventually, a doctor let me know that it would be much easier for me to stay in hospital but a lack of bed space meant I was left in a random room in the A&E department where I was told it could take up to sixteen hours before a bed is ready. In this time I consumed the world's worse excuse of a sandwich, begged my mum to buy me some sweets and an overpriced charger, and was in and out of sleep. By elven PM I was thankfully given a bed and sent up to a ward but the rush meant I didn't even have the opportunity to properly say goodbye to my mum and upon hitting the ward and finally having time alone I burst into tears. It was hours of emotion being kept in finally leaving my body. I was put back on a drip, given some water and the bag my mum had left them and once I knew she had made it home I made it my mission to show her I was okay and so sent her a video of me smiling hoping it would put her at ease.

The following two days were mentally and physically painful. Morphine helped but I had a four-hour wait between each dose and by hour three the pain was unbareable. I got through the days by watching comedy films on Netflix thanks to my phone and keeping in contact with friends and family. My surgery day was changed twice which of course, left me extremely frustrated! All i wanted was to get it over with and be home, out of pain and not alone. Mentally this was a difficult time and it was laughing at movies and the lovely old lady on my ward who borrowed my phone five times who kept me smiling and going. 

The day of my surgery I was full of anxiety. my heart rate was through the roof, i wasn't allowed to eat yet felt so sick and I had a million worries going through my head from not waking up from surgery to conspiracy theory videos I had viewed about people who had felt their surgery during the procedure. The woman who was set to put me under came to speak to me an hour before and I was able to ask questions and voice my worries which massively helped. Without her, I'm not sure how I would have gotten through it. Being down in the room, I didn't feel like me. I was scared and tired and with Covid restrictions in place, I couldn't have any family with me before or after surgery which left me feeling alone and even more anxious. The three incredible nurses and doctors did their best at keeping me relaxed. Talking to me, asking me questions, playing music, and making jokes about how lovely my hair was, and eventually I was just gone. 

so what is surgery like? Honestly, I couldn't say. When you're under you don't feel anything, hear anything, or even dream. You're just gone. Time passes and your body is there but you're gone. It left me feeling as though that's what death will be like and in some ways, it was both terrifying and satisfying. One minute I was breathing through a mask and the next minute I was waking up. opening my eyes I didn't even take in where I was, what was around me, or what the faces in the room looked like. I don't even remember their voices or the first thing I could smell. All I remember is asking if it went well and when I could back to the gym, repeating these questions until I was sent to my new ward. I felt dizzy, my heart rate was high for about half an hour and my vision was very blurry for a couple of hours. The food was much appreciated and to this day I'm surprised at how much I enjoyed the hospital meals. There was no pain for another twenty-four hours and I had the best staff looking after me in the evenings. They took care of me physically and mentally and as I laid in bed watching more comedy movies I felt calm and oddly proud of myself, drifting off into the deepest and best sleep of my life. It should be noted that my time in hospital saw me sleep so incredibly well. I was well-nourished and while I had tough moments mentally this second ward felt relaxing and comfortable. 

The morning after surgery I was up and walking. My notes were changed from nonweight baring to weight baring and so two lovely ladies from the physio team came to see me and we practiced walking. I must admit, this was difficult and painful but manageable. I moved slowly and my leg was extremely swollen. a lot of my medication had worn off at this point  and despite being on so much pain relief still, it didn't help during this time. Walking did, however, come much easier than I thought it would and hours after they left I continued to practice walking to the toilet and back, getting myself out of bed, using the toilet. The other women on my ward cheered me on as I walked and it felt so incredibly good to have that support considering I had no friends or family able to see me. The following morning, it was physio part two and I moved onto crutches and practiced walking upstairs. Both women were very impressed and I was soon told I was well enough to go home! Now, the stairs were difficult and terrifying, to say the least. After watching a man before almost falling down the same flight of stairs I worried for my own fate but shockingly found it easy. I couldn't wait to call my family and tell them I could come home and while the wait for transport was very long indeed it felt so damn good knowing I would soon be in my own home. 

and that leads me to recovery, something I'm going to be talking about another day. My time in the hospital was difficult, mentally and physically and there were several shockingly bad moments I will be discussing at a later date but I have to take this time to say thank you to the staff who looked after me especially over in the second ward. One nurse, in particular, will forever be in my mind. This woman did everything to make sure I was comfortable and she left me feeling like I had a friend and someone I could rely on. I also have to thank the two younger nurses in my first ward who spoke to me about hair, Rhianna's wigs and normal life, as well as another staff memeber who kept me feeling strong and proud, helping me walk and again making me feel like I had a friend. The lovely women I met and had me feeling less alone and of course, my friends and family who kept in contact. This time of my life has taught me so much and while it saddened me at the time im glad so many people showed their true selves when they didn't bother to contact me at all during this time. This silly yet serious accident has taught me a great deal about myself and I'm ready to keep going because the struggle and the challenges simply never end.