Following on from ‘Over The Threshold’ (posted October 2013) the story continues.
For the few days I was at home, before having to return to hospital, everything seemed so ‘alien’. I would look in the mirror each day, barely able to recognise myself, and just cry. The house haunted me, I couldn’t relate to it as home.
The strain was having an impact on Laura as she would enter into conversation with me, talking about all manner of events, but I couldn’t remember any of them. When I tried to answer, I’d get halfway through what I was speaking about and stop.
My own mind was now my prison. I couldn’t remember foods I liked, drinks I liked, the football team I supported, friends, family, how to drive, bank details, how to do my job and in fact, I couldn’t even remember where I worked.
The list of things I could not remember was the only thing I could remember, well apart from the hospital and the staff that had tended to me. Hospital was my home! Despite having my son and wife with me, the three days I was allowed home were the hardest.
I found every passing minute unbearable, the tears, the thoughts I was thinking, the anger, the rage, the uncertainty of everything just hit me. I’m not in control, I can’t do anything.
Simple tasks like boiling a kettle, setting the washing machine, switching the television on and even finding my clothes, were challenging. It was all so embarrassing.
There I was, a 28-year-old man having to rely on a woman I didn’t remember, to help me to be a man again. It was traumatising, it was humiliating and degrading. I thought I’d experienced utter despair when in the hospital, but my despair had reached new levels.
I remember waking up on the Saturday morning at 3am, I sat in the lounge and just kept repeating to myself over-and-over, how can I be lost in my own home?
Returning to bed an hour later, I stood in the bedroom where all this has happened, staring at ‘the woman’ lying in the bed and scanning the room looking for something, anything, that could get me out of this nightmare.
I found no respite from the trauma, I found no peace in my mind, I saw no light at the end of a tunnel. Much like the room I was standing in at 4am, I found myself shrouded in darkness. I saw no hope, having thought coming ‘home’ would give me renewed hope. But, it wasn’t to be. I was in this house in body, but my heart, mind and spirit had left this place.
What was left was a void, a chasm that could not be filled. The world talks a lot about identity, but at this moment in time I did not have one. Every time I looked in the mirror, what I saw staring back was emptiness, a blank expression. I might be home, but it’s not where my heart is!!!
I’d like to go back to the hospital now, please…
This latest blog chapter has been written by my amazing wife, Laura, without whom I don't think I would have ever got through this ordeal. Her fast actions on the day this took place may well have saved my life. I honour her, I love her and I thank her for her bravery. In her own words, Laura recalls the day I collapsed and lost my memory. It's gripping, yet heart warming.
I was sitting on the sofa having just finished dinner, Dan was upstairs settling Jake. I heard his footsteps across the landing heading back to our bedroom then there was a loud bang!
Not sure what it was, I rushed up the stairs to see what had happened, when I turned into our bedroom there was Dan, face down on the floor at the end of our bed!
Now as some of you know I am not always the best in an emergency, with my initial response being a little random (like the time our car span in the ice while Dan was driving, I turned the music off so he could concentrate. Or the time I walked in our front door to find Dan passed out on the floor and I had to take my coat off before checking on him. He was fine by the way, that's a whole other story).
However, this time I snapped in to action, checking he was breathing, shaking him to try and bring him round while calling his name. He didn’t respond, but thankfully was still breathing, I phoned for an ambulance.
The operator I got through to was absolutely amazing and I wish I could thank her personally. She kept me calm and stayed on the phone until the ambulance arrived. She could hear the panic in my voice and somehow managed to talk me through all the checks, making sure he was still breathing. She asked if I could turn him over on to his side. Unfortunately I was unable to move him, as there was no room to roll Dan over and I was not strong enough.
Whilst waiting for the ambulance Jake woke up again and was crying. I wasn't sure if I should leave Dan alone. The lady on the phone assured me that Dan would be fine and I should go and get my son. Looking back now I am sure Jake could sense something was wrong with his Dad.
So, I stood in our bedroom holding Jake waiting for the ambulance to arrive. Then Dan came round and started asking where he was, he seemed so confused. He didn’t move, he simply lay on the floor while I tried to explain what was going on. I reassured him that the ambulance was on its way. I then saw flashing lights out of the bedroom window of the rapid response vehicle.
I know Dan has covered this part already so will skip ahead.
The ambulance pulled off and disappeared up the road. I closed the front door and stood there for a couple of seconds thinking, what do I do? I settled Jake back to sleep in his room. Returning back downstairs my mind was racing, WOW has this really just happened? Is Dan really in hospital again? Why did he collapse? I needed to get to the hospital so I rang some friends to see if they could come and babysit while I went to the hospital. While explaining to them what had happened I broke down in tears. They said they would come straight away to look after Jake.
I decided to ring Dan’s dad so he could get to the hospital and be with him as I knew it would take me longer to get there. His dad was actually on duty in the neighbouring town, he was a paramedic, he assured me he would leave work straight away and get there to be with Dan. Andy and Becca Herbert (the friends mentioned above) arrived pretty quickly, I briefly and calmly explained what had happened. They are shocked by my state as I was a picture of calm, which they weren’t expecting after my break down on the phone.
This becomes my state for the next few weeks as I stay strong for Dan and Jake.
We decide that Andy will babysit Jake, while Becca took me to the hospital. Upon arrival at the hospital I walk straight up to the desk where I ask the desk clerk, where can I find Daniel Waldron?
I am given access to the A & E ward and I’m led into a little cubicle. There I find Dan lying on a bed, and his dad standing next to him. I get a look from Dan’s dad that says ‘something's not right here.’
I can tell straight away that Dan doesn't recognise me, I feel it in my stomach, a horrible sick feeling, but I just look at him and smile, he is still the man I love even if he doesn't know it.
I stay for about an hour while the doctors discuss what they want to do. They inform us they will be keeping Dan in overnight so I decide to go home as there was nothing more I could do and I didn’t want to keep Andy and Becca out any longer.
It was a sleepless night, I never sleep well when in the bed on my own at the best of times, but I also felt this heavy weight of responsibility to hold my little family together.
Over the next few days I juggled looking after Jake and visiting Dan in the hospital.
