Leaving the dentist after a check-up, I could feel a small nick in my gum, which was a bit sore. It was January 2017 and, as I was busy looking after my five kids, I really didn’t think anything more of it. But a week later, the pain was worse. ‘It’s really bothering me,’ I told my husband, Dean, then 51.
Within a few days, the right side of my face had swollen.
I was diagnosed with an abscess by the same dentist, given painkillers and antibiotics. And for a while, they worked. I was even able to go shopping for the day with my children, Chris, then 31, Connor, 20, Stacey, 26, Chloe, 17, and Kalee, four.
Only, the next day, I woke up with a pounding headache and a really high temperature. I stayed on the sofa all morning, but it was so unlike me, and by the afternoon, I could barely lift my head. I couldn’t concentrate on anything, and while Dean was upstairs, everything felt blurry and I kept drifting in and out of consciousness.
The next thing I remember was waking up in a brightly lit hospital room. I couldn’t talk, and when I tried to move my hands and legs, I felt the strangest sensation…
Looking down at where my arms should have been, all I could see was a flatbed sheet. And when I craned to see my legs, the same thing. Then I realised all four of my limbs were gone. I opened my mouth to scream, but no noise came out. It was like I’d woken up in a horror film.
Dean was by my side, but I couldn’t ask him any questions, so I just stared pleadingly into his eyes. He began to explain that I’d been in and out of consciousness in Intensive Care for more than three months.
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Esta historia es de la edición October 05, 2021 de WOMAN'S OWN.
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