It’s Duncan, here (again!)
At the end of Bulletin 3, I’d lost the casserole and James was moving to the High Dependency Unit. There’s exciting further news on both counts.
Firstly, the casserole has turned up. I went into my office in Whitehaven yesterday, got hugged quite a lot (on which more anon) and apart from concern about James, there was a good deal of interest in the Mystery of the Missing Casserole. Well, I opened a Flora tub yesterday and, lo and behold, there was the casserole. Amazing!
Your minds can be set at rest on that score. I know, I shouldn’t have got into such a stew about it.
Secondly, James. He swept through the High Dependency Unit (as my father would have said, “like a dose of salts”) in a couple of days. I was discussing his progress with an HDU nurse who said “he’s doin’ canny” an expression which I took to be Geordie approbation. Anyway, he’s done so canny that he’s now in another ward – Ward 31. He’s in his own little cubicle.
In terms of mental condition, he’s making good progress. There’s no problem with his comprehension, he answers questions with squeezes (whatever happens to be in squeezing range).
Physical stuff, he can do a thumbs up, he follows with his eyes, his physios sat him on the edge of his bed yesterday, he’s got good core strength, he gets tired fairly quickly and can’t talk unless his “trachy” is adjusted, which hasn’t been done when Penny and I have been there in the last couple of days. He is still on painkillers which make him drowsy. His arms and legs seem OK if feeble.
So in the last 13 days, we’ve progressed from a situation where, had he not been resuscitated, he would have been brain dead in a few minutes or everything dead in a few more minutes or paralysed from the neck down had there been a little more movement (a few mms probably) to having a James who is definitely alive, moving all his limbs and understanding what we say. So, result!
His eyes look a bit odd – a bit glassy – but in this respect he is also improving. As one of my colleagues kindly reassured me yesterday “he’s bound to look a bit odd with you as his father”.
We think that the medical team will keep him in Ward 31 for a week or so, resolve the trachy, swallowing/ coughing etc and then send him down to London. We are arranging a meeting with his consultant to discuss the best place. Because he’s in need of physio, brain, chest and possibly eyes, he’ll need a multi expertise place: Kings, The Royal London in Whitechapel or St George’s in Tooting have been mentioned. The Whitechapel place would be convenient for a lot of his mates.
His immediate support team (Bean, Penny, Alasdair and I) are also returning to some degree of normality. I haven’t liked to enquire too closely about the girls’ dress sizes (which to be honest, I don’t really understand. I can visualise heights, waists, hips and chests/ busts but I’m not quite clear how this all comes together in a single dress size. What size is a slender 6 foot woman or a clinically obese lass of 4’ 11?). Alasdair is also OK after a rather turgid time last week. I was told that I looked a bit haggard yesterday, which is an improvement on last week when I looked “bloody awful”.
Alasdair has now gone back to London to his flat and work. Many thanks to ABMA for their support. Bean is going to win a swimming competition in Sheffield this weekend. I’m going to London for a meeting on Monday and will return to Lorton and the office on Tuesday - I’ll come over for a few evenings in the week. Penny stays here (in charge) with support from The Poole Siblings and their esteemed spouses through to mid-next week, plus support on a day by day basis from one of my cousins and some friends of James. She’ll be staying in an absolutely sensational borrowed flat (more marvellous friends of friends).
Next weekend, Alasdair and Bean will come up and I will come over ………….unless, of course, The Boy has gone off to London! We’ll keep you posted.
Thank you all for your continued interest and support. You’ve been great – food, chocolate, flowers, cards, texts, phone calls, blog posts, emails, general supportive interest, medical interpretation and advice and hugs galore.
I’ll close on the subject of hug etiquette and my complete ignorance of this (yeah, and pretty much all else too). I hope that I haven’t inadvertently caused offence in the Hugging Department. Normally (well over the last 34 years), the hugger has been Penny and she gets kissed when she hugs me. Otherwise men get a firm handshake, women get a chaste little kiss on left and right cheeks.
In the maelstrom of emotion that has constituted life from about 1800 hours on16 October 2010 up to today, I’ve been hugged by loads of beautiful women, which triggers (per Pavlov’s dog) a kissing response, and I’ve been halfway through a manly handshake only to find myself swept into an embrace Mediterranée. One then has to untangle hands and slap each other on the back. So if you are a girl (and got kissed, sort of by mistake) or you are a bloke (and ended up with a knuckled chest), I apologise. I’m trying to do better.
With love from us all (& James)
Penny, Bean, Alasdair and Duncan
Friday, 29 October 2010
Wednesday, 27 October 2010
The Recovery Phase
Thank you all for your kind responses and blog posts.
Should you so desire, you can find out a lot about nuclear emergency planning from the Department of Energy and Climate Change website (DECC). The planning process divides the “timeline” in two: there is an emergency phase and a recovery phase. The emergency phase is the sexy, glamorous bit with heroes and heroines (heropersons), flashing blue lights, breathing apparatus, fires, newspaper reporters, headlines and so on – it’s the bit that Hollywood turns into films. The recovery phase, worthy and important but not sexy, takes the affected community back to normality after the fires are out and when the heroes have gone off to be heroic elsewhere. (Since you are probably wondering, yes, Duncan is a small-time player in the unsexy bit-no change there).
James’ predicament is a bit like this – it’s his personal Chernobyl. He is now firmly out of the emergency phase (helicopters, resuscitation, back from the brink, blood, operations etc) and into the recovery phase. There’s nothing left to operate on (apart from the removal of his neck plate in 4 months or so). His lungs are returning to normality.
He had an MRI scan yesterday and the neurosurgeon had a chat with us afterwards.
The scan showed that there had been a small amount of bleeding at the point where the spinal cord comes into the brain (the interpeduncular cistern, since you ask) and this has:
• Affected his oculomotor nerve (which accounts for the curiously dilated pupil in his right eye). If this doesn’t mend itself of its own accord, it can be corrected with glasses. What he sees is a rather blurred picture out of that eye, a bit like the effect of eye droplets that opticians sometimes use to dilate the pupil. The other eye is OK.
• Caused some weakness in his left side, which can be resolved by the physioterrorists (joke).
He still has his tracheostomy. This is necessary to manage the vomit risk. Were he to vomit, he couldn’t necessarily deal with the result by spitting it out or swallowing it – so it (i.e. the vomit) might trickle down into his lungs and that ain’t good news. So, the “trachey” stays in place for the time being. The arrangement reduces his conversational capacity to an occasional hoarse whisper. I thought that you would be interested in this – we had sputum in Bulletin 2.
He is also doped up on opiates. His chest pain (caused by the extensive rib damage) is significant. This makes him intermittently dozy. He reserves maximum responsiveness for Bean and his friends.
Apart from that, he had a good day yesterday with some old school mates (nothing wrong with his memory of various sordid teenage escapades).
What next? Our (i.e. Penny and Duncan’s) idea had been to get him over to Lorton so that we could look after him until he was better. I was thinking about this in the wee small hours one night last week and decided that it really didn’t make much sense. The Boy will get more social variety in London and more visitors. It is easier for friends, relations, work colleagues etc to drop in. Penny can operate her business from James’ flat, I can get down without much trouble. Newcastle General Hospital seem to agree with this. John Macfarlane (one of our stalwart Cumbrian supporters) looked a bit crestfallen when we mentioned this: he had wanted to go running with James before James was well so that he (John) would be able to keep up with him.
We don’t know when this relocation will be – perhaps in the next week or two? We’ll keep you posted.
Not much other news.
1. Penny and Bean have apparently both dropped a dress size.
2. I’m in trouble because I lost a casserole, brought up by Sister Barbara. There was a slightly astonished silence when I disclosed this last night on the ‘phone. “How can you lose a casserole, Duncan? I put it into the car for you, you can’t have just lost it!”
Could there be a link between these points? Anyway, should you be travelling between Newcastle Central Station, Newcastle General Hospital and 21 Simonburn Road, Fenham and you come across a stray casserole, by all means tuck in – it’ll probably help you to maintain your dress size.
Thanks again for all of your good wishes. We’ll continue to keep you posted.
With best wishes from
Penny, Bean, Alasdair & Duncan.
Should you so desire, you can find out a lot about nuclear emergency planning from the Department of Energy and Climate Change website (DECC). The planning process divides the “timeline” in two: there is an emergency phase and a recovery phase. The emergency phase is the sexy, glamorous bit with heroes and heroines (heropersons), flashing blue lights, breathing apparatus, fires, newspaper reporters, headlines and so on – it’s the bit that Hollywood turns into films. The recovery phase, worthy and important but not sexy, takes the affected community back to normality after the fires are out and when the heroes have gone off to be heroic elsewhere. (Since you are probably wondering, yes, Duncan is a small-time player in the unsexy bit-no change there).
James’ predicament is a bit like this – it’s his personal Chernobyl. He is now firmly out of the emergency phase (helicopters, resuscitation, back from the brink, blood, operations etc) and into the recovery phase. There’s nothing left to operate on (apart from the removal of his neck plate in 4 months or so). His lungs are returning to normality.
He had an MRI scan yesterday and the neurosurgeon had a chat with us afterwards.
The scan showed that there had been a small amount of bleeding at the point where the spinal cord comes into the brain (the interpeduncular cistern, since you ask) and this has:
• Affected his oculomotor nerve (which accounts for the curiously dilated pupil in his right eye). If this doesn’t mend itself of its own accord, it can be corrected with glasses. What he sees is a rather blurred picture out of that eye, a bit like the effect of eye droplets that opticians sometimes use to dilate the pupil. The other eye is OK.
• Caused some weakness in his left side, which can be resolved by the physioterrorists (joke).
He still has his tracheostomy. This is necessary to manage the vomit risk. Were he to vomit, he couldn’t necessarily deal with the result by spitting it out or swallowing it – so it (i.e. the vomit) might trickle down into his lungs and that ain’t good news. So, the “trachey” stays in place for the time being. The arrangement reduces his conversational capacity to an occasional hoarse whisper. I thought that you would be interested in this – we had sputum in Bulletin 2.
He is also doped up on opiates. His chest pain (caused by the extensive rib damage) is significant. This makes him intermittently dozy. He reserves maximum responsiveness for Bean and his friends.
Apart from that, he had a good day yesterday with some old school mates (nothing wrong with his memory of various sordid teenage escapades).
What next? Our (i.e. Penny and Duncan’s) idea had been to get him over to Lorton so that we could look after him until he was better. I was thinking about this in the wee small hours one night last week and decided that it really didn’t make much sense. The Boy will get more social variety in London and more visitors. It is easier for friends, relations, work colleagues etc to drop in. Penny can operate her business from James’ flat, I can get down without much trouble. Newcastle General Hospital seem to agree with this. John Macfarlane (one of our stalwart Cumbrian supporters) looked a bit crestfallen when we mentioned this: he had wanted to go running with James before James was well so that he (John) would be able to keep up with him.
We don’t know when this relocation will be – perhaps in the next week or two? We’ll keep you posted.
Not much other news.
1. Penny and Bean have apparently both dropped a dress size.
2. I’m in trouble because I lost a casserole, brought up by Sister Barbara. There was a slightly astonished silence when I disclosed this last night on the ‘phone. “How can you lose a casserole, Duncan? I put it into the car for you, you can’t have just lost it!”
Could there be a link between these points? Anyway, should you be travelling between Newcastle Central Station, Newcastle General Hospital and 21 Simonburn Road, Fenham and you come across a stray casserole, by all means tuck in – it’ll probably help you to maintain your dress size.
Thanks again for all of your good wishes. We’ll continue to keep you posted.
With best wishes from
Penny, Bean, Alasdair & Duncan.
Tuesday, 26 October 2010
Update
Thank you all for your kind responses and blog posts.
Today, James has been promoted (within the Critical Care Facility) from Intensive Care to High Dependency. This recognises that his breathing needs less aid than it did. It changes the nurse: patient ratio from 1:1 to 1:2. It means that we’ve been chucked out of the hospital accommodation. We still get a preferential parking rate. He also starts a physiotherapy/rehabilitation routine. We have to supply pyjamas (or a nightie!), shower gel, toothbrush etc.
We’ve been advised that head injury patients progress is slow. James is breaking the mould (why stop at ribs, clavicle, vertebrae?). We (and the nurses) reckon that he’s making excellent progress. His doctors (like the nurses – marvellous) are more guarded. I rationalise this on the basis that they don’t want to raise expectations ergo they present the gloomiest picture ergo this cannot be generally representative. So, Team Poole is splendidly optimistic and positive.
An example of this:
James’ Aunt Barbara came to see him last weekend – about 24 hours after the crash. She was disgruntled after sitting with him for 30 minutes because he couldn’t be bothered to open his eyes or even acknowledge her existence. I had a chat with James before she dropped in Sunday afternoon. It was a bit of a one-sided conversation, indeed it was more of a monologue, but I represented the benefits of good manners in general, the correlation between manners and Christmas presents, Aunt sensitivity, Aunt travelling times, consequences for father if son didn’t perform etc.
James responded by looking at Barbara, squeezing her hand, not pulling all his drips and drains out, and finally, when Sunil (the Nurse) adjusted the tracheoscopy, James whispered answers to a few (admittedly rather fatuous) questions – favourite colour –blue (useful come to think of it, it’ll help Bean when she’s pyjama shopping at John Lewis today), name of prime minister (we probably all know that) and confirmation that he knew that he was in a hospital.
Also, Sunil tried eyes: we’ve been a bit anxious about this, they look a bit wonky. Anyway, Sunil held up some fingers and James counted (or guessed) three. As it happens, he was:
A) right,
B) his maths appears to have improved, and
C) he can’t have double vision .
The upshot was that Barbara left thoroughly Regruntled. Well done, James!
A second example:
When offered the choice (for a minute while one of them went to fetch something) between the company of his girlfriend, Bean, and that of a girl friend, Charlotte, who was visiting and had been telling him about the excellent fish pie that she had made for Team Poole the previous evening, he very forcefully opted for Bean.
Clearly, he can understand what’s going on and there’s nothing wrong with his libido or hand/arm strength. Charlotte (far from being offended by the implied aspersion on her conversation topic and fish pie prowess) kindly said that it was one of the most romantic things that she’d seen in her life. Charlotte’s fish pie was one of the most welcome dishes that I’ve had, by the way.
The medical team are very conscious of the risks of infection. They’ve cultured a few bacteria from James’ sputum (spit etc). There are three types of baddy but not in sufficient quantity to cause concern and apparently on balance it’s better not to zap them because in so doing one would zap other goody bacteria. The risk is being carefully monitored.
That’s it for now – Team Poole is lodged in a house borrowed from Charlotte’s extremely kind and generous friends for 6 days, then some of us will take a flat and the others will revert to weekend visits.
Thanks again for all of your good wishes. We’ll continue to keep you posted.
With best wishes from
Penny, Bean, Alasdair & Duncan.
Today, James has been promoted (within the Critical Care Facility) from Intensive Care to High Dependency. This recognises that his breathing needs less aid than it did. It changes the nurse: patient ratio from 1:1 to 1:2. It means that we’ve been chucked out of the hospital accommodation. We still get a preferential parking rate. He also starts a physiotherapy/rehabilitation routine. We have to supply pyjamas (or a nightie!), shower gel, toothbrush etc.
We’ve been advised that head injury patients progress is slow. James is breaking the mould (why stop at ribs, clavicle, vertebrae?). We (and the nurses) reckon that he’s making excellent progress. His doctors (like the nurses – marvellous) are more guarded. I rationalise this on the basis that they don’t want to raise expectations ergo they present the gloomiest picture ergo this cannot be generally representative. So, Team Poole is splendidly optimistic and positive.
An example of this:
James’ Aunt Barbara came to see him last weekend – about 24 hours after the crash. She was disgruntled after sitting with him for 30 minutes because he couldn’t be bothered to open his eyes or even acknowledge her existence. I had a chat with James before she dropped in Sunday afternoon. It was a bit of a one-sided conversation, indeed it was more of a monologue, but I represented the benefits of good manners in general, the correlation between manners and Christmas presents, Aunt sensitivity, Aunt travelling times, consequences for father if son didn’t perform etc.
James responded by looking at Barbara, squeezing her hand, not pulling all his drips and drains out, and finally, when Sunil (the Nurse) adjusted the tracheoscopy, James whispered answers to a few (admittedly rather fatuous) questions – favourite colour –blue (useful come to think of it, it’ll help Bean when she’s pyjama shopping at John Lewis today), name of prime minister (we probably all know that) and confirmation that he knew that he was in a hospital.
Also, Sunil tried eyes: we’ve been a bit anxious about this, they look a bit wonky. Anyway, Sunil held up some fingers and James counted (or guessed) three. As it happens, he was:
A) right,
B) his maths appears to have improved, and
C) he can’t have double vision .
The upshot was that Barbara left thoroughly Regruntled. Well done, James!
A second example:
When offered the choice (for a minute while one of them went to fetch something) between the company of his girlfriend, Bean, and that of a girl friend, Charlotte, who was visiting and had been telling him about the excellent fish pie that she had made for Team Poole the previous evening, he very forcefully opted for Bean.
Clearly, he can understand what’s going on and there’s nothing wrong with his libido or hand/arm strength. Charlotte (far from being offended by the implied aspersion on her conversation topic and fish pie prowess) kindly said that it was one of the most romantic things that she’d seen in her life. Charlotte’s fish pie was one of the most welcome dishes that I’ve had, by the way.
The medical team are very conscious of the risks of infection. They’ve cultured a few bacteria from James’ sputum (spit etc). There are three types of baddy but not in sufficient quantity to cause concern and apparently on balance it’s better not to zap them because in so doing one would zap other goody bacteria. The risk is being carefully monitored.
That’s it for now – Team Poole is lodged in a house borrowed from Charlotte’s extremely kind and generous friends for 6 days, then some of us will take a flat and the others will revert to weekend visits.
Thanks again for all of your good wishes. We’ll continue to keep you posted.
With best wishes from
Penny, Bean, Alasdair & Duncan.
Sunday, 24 October 2010
PHOENIX
Hallo everybody, this is Duncan (James’ dad speaking),
Over the past 6 days, we have had fantastic support from rescuers, relations, friends, colleagues and people that we don’t know at all, but who have kindly taken us into their thoughts. We have been deluged by so many texts and calls that it has been difficult to reply to them all. We’ve decided to update you by email/blog because we otherwise can’t cope: Newcastle, which has a fantastic hospital called the Newcastle General, has not got a large enough pigeon population to send out daily messages to the 100+ people who’ve been in touch. If you know of anybody who may be interested, please pass this on to them.
The Before
The Accident happened last Saturday afternoon 16/10/10. James had come up to stay with us in Cumbria for a couple of nights and took himself off paragliding to Carrock Fell, which is the Mecca of paragliders nearest to us and given the prevailing weather conditions. The weather was good, he was having a really good day, witness two texts, one which featured as a message on twitter:
16 Oct 2010 11:54
Followed the wind round to carrock fell and bizarrely there are a few other pilots here. Cumbrian autumnal colours are stunning
16 Oct 2010 13:09
Amazing flight from top of Carrock Fell. 30 mins of pretty good Lakeland views....It’s a bit fresher than Turkey though!
The After
By 1800, he hadn’t got home. Penny and I had been invited out by some friends to a ceilidh and so had catered for James. Penny rang his mobile to issue a string of instructions about (very expensive) fillet steak, (Sainsbury’s not very expensive) Montepulciano, Güs and reblochon. The phone was answered by Matthew Cadamy, who announced himself as the A&E consultant to Newcastle General. Matthew said that James was in hospital, serious head injury, we should come over, was he allergic to anything (A: dogs), was he up to date with his jabs (A: don’t know).
We left immediately and got over to Newcastle in 2 hours. On the way, we rang Alasdair (James’ brother) who was on his way to a 1950’s party in Russell Square and Bean (Victoria Beaney) who is James’ Significant Other. By 0200 hours on Sunday, Bean (having driven), Alasdair (who had trained up and, as an aside, I recommend giving Newcastle Central Station a pretty wide berth at midnight on a Saturday), Penny and I were assembled and visiting the Boy in relays.
He wasn’t a pretty sight.
The damage inventory is:
Damaged C1 and C2 vertebrae (transl: top two in spine), an unresponsive right pupil, a gash about 3 inches long on his jaw, a broken clavicle, about 10 broken ribs (some with more than one break) on the left of his rib cage and a collapsed lung. He was on food drips, saline drips, 4 lots of drug drips and a life support (breathing thing) machine.
Since this is intended to be a quick update, I’ll close on the accident and the present position.
The Accident
He crashed, hard, into some rocks and ended up badly injured and scrunched up.
I’ve spoken on the phone to the ‘Good Samaritans’ who got to the scene of the crash first. One, Jim Stilling, is a paramedic, the other, Jonathan May, is a trained first aider. He was airlifted out by helicopter officer i/c Colin Clark (North Air Ambulance) and enjoyed (!) a 19-20 minute ride to NGH. I’m not going to write much about what they said. The keyboard isn’t waterproof. Suffice it to say, these marvellous guys saved his life – the expression used was that he received Rolls Royce treatment on the ground. So more on that, anon.
The Present
James has been in and out of surgery to repair his damaged body.
The first was an operation to connect base of skull to C3 and C4. This immobilises his head and so protects his spinal cord – this took some 3-4 hours on Monday afternoon. Tuesday saw a tracheotomy. On Thursday, he had an operation on his ribs, using what looks like Meccano on the X ray, to hold the bits of broken bone together. As an Ironman, he has now been upgraded to feature titanium, which we understand is a lighter and stronger material. This lifts the 15 or so pieces of rib off his left lung, helps him to breathe, means that the bones will knit together suitably aligned, preserves the capacity of his lung and reduces pain in the short and long terms.
There’s no question that he’s on the mend. The reactions are back to external stimuli, he also responds extremely well to Bean (and follows her instructions – other than when she tells him to let go of her hands), Penny and the rest of us get responses on hand grasping and eye-opening. This is particularly encouraging for Bean – it’s clear that he recognises her particularly and is obedient for at least some of the time (wise man). Penny and I gave up trying to get any obedience years ago. His medics are pleased with his progress – it’s gradual but they have told us not to expect him to sit up suddenly and invite us off down the pub for a few beers. We can wait – he’s coming back.
I’ll close on a few acknowledgments – many thanks to all who’ve prayed for him (including the congregation of York Minster, Gary and Flora & Co and the Sisters of the Order of the Holy Paraclete and the Speldhurst community), to John & Rosamund, Veronica Beaney and Poole siblings who’ve visited and looked after us, to, Dave, Brett, Martha, Aaron, Rosie (and baby Lucy – what a tonic she is!), Kim & Tom, Hinksy & Kirsty, Cols and Charlotte who’ve come to Newcastle, also to all who have thought of/texted/rung us and sent their support. We’ve also had welcome hospitality from friends in Newcastle, Claudia and Iona (and James).
I would also like to acknowledge the support, sympathy and understanding that the employers of the Core Team (Penny, Alasdair, Bean and me) and, of course, James have given us. So, many thanks to Willis, Total, ABMA, Godwin Symons’ clients and the Nuclear Decommissioning Authority.
With love from us all,
Penny, Bean, Alasdair and me.
Team Poole still standing!
Over the past 6 days, we have had fantastic support from rescuers, relations, friends, colleagues and people that we don’t know at all, but who have kindly taken us into their thoughts. We have been deluged by so many texts and calls that it has been difficult to reply to them all. We’ve decided to update you by email/blog because we otherwise can’t cope: Newcastle, which has a fantastic hospital called the Newcastle General, has not got a large enough pigeon population to send out daily messages to the 100+ people who’ve been in touch. If you know of anybody who may be interested, please pass this on to them.
The Before
The Accident happened last Saturday afternoon 16/10/10. James had come up to stay with us in Cumbria for a couple of nights and took himself off paragliding to Carrock Fell, which is the Mecca of paragliders nearest to us and given the prevailing weather conditions. The weather was good, he was having a really good day, witness two texts, one which featured as a message on twitter:
16 Oct 2010 11:54
Followed the wind round to carrock fell and bizarrely there are a few other pilots here. Cumbrian autumnal colours are stunning
16 Oct 2010 13:09
Amazing flight from top of Carrock Fell. 30 mins of pretty good Lakeland views....It’s a bit fresher than Turkey though!
The After
By 1800, he hadn’t got home. Penny and I had been invited out by some friends to a ceilidh and so had catered for James. Penny rang his mobile to issue a string of instructions about (very expensive) fillet steak, (Sainsbury’s not very expensive) Montepulciano, Güs and reblochon. The phone was answered by Matthew Cadamy, who announced himself as the A&E consultant to Newcastle General. Matthew said that James was in hospital, serious head injury, we should come over, was he allergic to anything (A: dogs), was he up to date with his jabs (A: don’t know).
We left immediately and got over to Newcastle in 2 hours. On the way, we rang Alasdair (James’ brother) who was on his way to a 1950’s party in Russell Square and Bean (Victoria Beaney) who is James’ Significant Other. By 0200 hours on Sunday, Bean (having driven), Alasdair (who had trained up and, as an aside, I recommend giving Newcastle Central Station a pretty wide berth at midnight on a Saturday), Penny and I were assembled and visiting the Boy in relays.
He wasn’t a pretty sight.
The damage inventory is:
Damaged C1 and C2 vertebrae (transl: top two in spine), an unresponsive right pupil, a gash about 3 inches long on his jaw, a broken clavicle, about 10 broken ribs (some with more than one break) on the left of his rib cage and a collapsed lung. He was on food drips, saline drips, 4 lots of drug drips and a life support (breathing thing) machine.
Since this is intended to be a quick update, I’ll close on the accident and the present position.
The Accident
He crashed, hard, into some rocks and ended up badly injured and scrunched up.
I’ve spoken on the phone to the ‘Good Samaritans’ who got to the scene of the crash first. One, Jim Stilling, is a paramedic, the other, Jonathan May, is a trained first aider. He was airlifted out by helicopter officer i/c Colin Clark (North Air Ambulance) and enjoyed (!) a 19-20 minute ride to NGH. I’m not going to write much about what they said. The keyboard isn’t waterproof. Suffice it to say, these marvellous guys saved his life – the expression used was that he received Rolls Royce treatment on the ground. So more on that, anon.
The Present
James has been in and out of surgery to repair his damaged body.
The first was an operation to connect base of skull to C3 and C4. This immobilises his head and so protects his spinal cord – this took some 3-4 hours on Monday afternoon. Tuesday saw a tracheotomy. On Thursday, he had an operation on his ribs, using what looks like Meccano on the X ray, to hold the bits of broken bone together. As an Ironman, he has now been upgraded to feature titanium, which we understand is a lighter and stronger material. This lifts the 15 or so pieces of rib off his left lung, helps him to breathe, means that the bones will knit together suitably aligned, preserves the capacity of his lung and reduces pain in the short and long terms.
There’s no question that he’s on the mend. The reactions are back to external stimuli, he also responds extremely well to Bean (and follows her instructions – other than when she tells him to let go of her hands), Penny and the rest of us get responses on hand grasping and eye-opening. This is particularly encouraging for Bean – it’s clear that he recognises her particularly and is obedient for at least some of the time (wise man). Penny and I gave up trying to get any obedience years ago. His medics are pleased with his progress – it’s gradual but they have told us not to expect him to sit up suddenly and invite us off down the pub for a few beers. We can wait – he’s coming back.
I’ll close on a few acknowledgments – many thanks to all who’ve prayed for him (including the congregation of York Minster, Gary and Flora & Co and the Sisters of the Order of the Holy Paraclete and the Speldhurst community), to John & Rosamund, Veronica Beaney and Poole siblings who’ve visited and looked after us, to, Dave, Brett, Martha, Aaron, Rosie (and baby Lucy – what a tonic she is!), Kim & Tom, Hinksy & Kirsty, Cols and Charlotte who’ve come to Newcastle, also to all who have thought of/texted/rung us and sent their support. We’ve also had welcome hospitality from friends in Newcastle, Claudia and Iona (and James).
I would also like to acknowledge the support, sympathy and understanding that the employers of the Core Team (Penny, Alasdair, Bean and me) and, of course, James have given us. So, many thanks to Willis, Total, ABMA, Godwin Symons’ clients and the Nuclear Decommissioning Authority.
With love from us all,
Penny, Bean, Alasdair and me.
Team Poole still standing!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)