The first time I had an accident, I was a child. Excitedly jumping up and down on my bed, my head hit the side table, which went through the wall. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, blood trickling down the side of my face, my skull had been fractured in an unfortunate knock to my head. It was nobody’s fault but my own.
Luckily, the care, love & quick-thinking of my father to rush me to hospital may well have saved my life. Thank you Dad, I am very grateful to you, the doctors & nurses.
Although I have absolutely no memory of what happened at Ninewells Hospital in Dundee, the place of my birth, that evening, I suppose it was a rebirth of sorts for me. I am glad to say I made it out alive and seemingly relatively unscathed.
Back home, I happily put together my Ancient Egypt Lego set, showing that I still had some brain cells left, which was a big relief.
If you had told that little boy living in pain — his head bandaged up like an Ancient Egyptian Mummy — that he’d go on to celebrate his dear Aunt’s 50th Birthday on a cruise down the River Nile in Egypt, I may not have believed you. Family and friends have been a lifeline in my ongoing recovery.
Or that I’d mark getting four A grades at AS Level with a dip with a friend in the Trevi Fountain in Rome, I’d have to doff my hat to fate.
Given the rather inconvenient crack to my cranium — I still have a Harry Potteresque scar above my forehead — I suppose becoming “Head Boy” was quite an apt title.
The second time I thought I might be close to the end was when I was hospitalised with acute malaria (which is luckily not contagious so I pose no risk of spreading it) after I returned from an enjoyable trip to Uganda with my Uncle and cousins in 2008.
I will always be grateful and especially to my absolutely incredible mother who travelled down to be with me, the best and only mother I could ever hope to have, to whom I owe so much, and also my flatmate who brought clean clothes. Cleanliness is next to Godliness after all!
If you had told me then, lying in a hospital bed on an IV drip with hot and cold sweats, that I would go on to be elected President of the University of Warwick Students’ Union just a year later, I might have thought I was having a delirious dream.
My point is that ongoing recovery is possible. I know it is. I am living proof of it.
People often talk about experiencing a “breakdown” or “burnout”, which are both all too real phenomena, taking time and proper professional medical advice to overcome, yet unless we also put an emphasis on “starting back up again” and “recovery”, unless we keep the flame of hope alive, we risk getting stuck in a cycle of illness and decline. We need what one wise therapist described to me as “a circuit breaker”.
If you’d whispered in my good ear, as I sat in agony in the waiting room of the Royal Ear, Nose and Throat Hospital in London’s Grays Inn Road, as a Journalism Masters student with a perforated ear drum, that I’d go on to work for the BBC, ITV & ITN, on that same street, I don’t know if it would have eased, or added to, my earache.
I was especially glad for the sponge pudding & custard, which restored my spirits more than any medicine ever could. Thank you to the clinicians, cleaners and cooks.
I strongly believe that recovery is possible, but in my experience healing often takes place away from hospital, with enjoyable time spent with friends and family, cooking and sharing meals, dog walks on the beach or hikes in mountains and forests. Hot baths, cold showers and swims in the sea have also helped to clear my mind.
Yes, I may have spent a lot of my life in pain, yet I realise other people have had it so much worse than me, and there remains so much to be grateful for in my life — family, friends, food, films, music, theatre, communicating with those we love.
I am indeed lucky. I have survived malaria. I have survived COVID. I have even survived periods of depression & anxiety as a result. I count myself very fortunate to have such an excellent support network and also to have received treatment. I’m also thankful to have had such caring, compassionate and understanding bosses and colleagues. I am safe. I am well. I am grateful to be alive.
My aim now for the rest of my life is to stay out of hospital as much as possible, yet I’ll always hold a great respect for doctors, nurses & all those who work hard to keep us healthy, including fitness instructors.
We have to remember healthcare workers are human too, with their own lives, stresses & strains, they may not be miracle workers.
One doctor did describe me as “a medical miracle” though, which made me smile.
I remain optimistic I can live a balanced, healthy & peaceful life. I hope this for you too.
This is my aim & goal. ‘Pax Et Spes’ is an old family motto of my great great grandfather — ‘Peace & Hope”.
I hope to have the chance to achieve it.
I’m grateful to the NHS for providing me with all the relevant advice & vaccinations over many years, ever since I was a child.
I am also very grateful to everyone who took the time to visit me in hospital, sent cards, messages and gifts and provided so much love, care and support.
I’m so thankful to my parents, sister, uncle, cousins, colleagues & friends.
Thank you all very much!
Wow! That's a lot to have dealt with. So good that you are focused on the right things!