Once Bitten,Twice Dead

On my way out this morning I got stuck at the train gates. It has reminded me that I must move away and start somewhere else once I am on that road to recovery. I watched three trains pass by, the same trains that brought her to me. In a beautiful ironic twist a bird was hovering high above the station. You couldn’t make it up.

The flat I still live in holds so many memories. Good ones that are a constant painful reminder and bad ones that do likewise. I have nearly died twice in this place. Laying on the same sofa I can look at the rafter that has been dented by my weight on the cord I tied around it.

On May the 10th 2017 I again nearly died in the same room. I had given up smoking some 3 years previously and had switched to vaping. I joined a gym and was getting fit and healthy again. I had been at Harlow comic on as Negan at the weekend and wasn’t feeling too good even then. On the Monday after a gym session I was feeling a bit breathless. On Tuesday I went to the doctors and asked them for some help and they gave me a salbutamol inhaler. That night the only way I could get to sleep was to prop myself up in bed with loads of pillows. By Wednesday morning I was already in trouble and went back to the doctors. It was quite clear that I was in a lot of distress and they didn’t seem worried that I finished off the entire inhaler. I was struggling to breath, I was having palpitations and I was quite simply told I was just anxious and told to go home and breathe into a brown paper bag. Like an idiot I did as I was told and by 10 that night I knew I was in deep serious trouble. I phoned 999 and managed to tell them what was happening. I must have waited 2 hours for someone to come and help me. In that time I was fighting with every inch of my body to stay calm and survive until they got to me. I remember looking at my phone which was only feet away and thinking I must phone my children to say goodbye. I didn’t even have the energy to move or any capacity to talk. What could I have said? I know I was on the verge of collapse and I know what it feels like to drown without dying for hours. It’s a feeling I would not wish on my worst enemy. You are absolutely powerless. You cannot escape. You cannot move out of its way or reason with. Gulping for air that doesn’t give anything at all and your lungs are filling with nothing but poison.

The entry to my flat is via a buzzer and I live on the top floor. The buzzer went off and the 10 foot journey to press the entry button was the longest and toughest distance I have ever had to cover. I collapsed back into the sofa and a first responder turned up and started to wire me up. I remember whispering to him ‘It’s not my heart mate’. Its very difficult to hang on when you are on your own, but especially so when someone arrives to help you. It’s very easy to lie back and let them do all the work as you think you are safe. I think my past experiences allowed me to keep fighting alongside the first responder and the two paramedics that turned up. I remember being strapped to a chair and fighting to get out of it. The 15 mile journey to the resus unit felt like I was in another world. I can still hear the paramedic talking to me all the way ‘Come on Doug you can do it, keep on breathing. Come on Doug we are nearly there you can do it’.

I remember nothing until my body felt like liquid fire had been injected into me and I went stiff as a board. This happened twice. Lokking back I wonder if I had died a little in there and they had use a defibrillator on me. After that I remember hearing voices again saying ‘We aren’t out of the woods yet’ and ‘Its still a close run thing’. At 7 in the morning I came around. The first thing I asked for? A cup of tea. I could barely talk but I knew that I had survived and all I wanted was that tea. I was told I was minutes away from being intubated so I considered myself lucky.

I spent a week in the ward taking massive amounts of steroids. I was afraid to go to sleep in case I died. I had an oxygen mask on constantly with tubes up my nose. I was scared, I was frightened and I was in shock but I wasn’t alone. K helped me so

much and I owe my life to her, the first responder the paramedics the resus team and the nurses on the ward all saved me. My recovery is a different story for another time. But I suffer flashbacks everyday. I can still hear the paramedics and the team in A&E and the sound of any siren makes me physically cringe. I cannot overstate the affect this has had on me mentally and physically. Everyone who sees me says ‘Dont you look well!’ but no one knows whats going on inside me. I am not the same person I was but I’m determined to get back there.