The moment the spinal block wore off I am flooded with pain. I feel like my stump is on fire and a thousand needles are being stabbed into its tip. Pain shoots up and down my leg like an electrical circuit.
When Mum and Dad arrive I am in tears.
Nicky one of my main nurses takes me down for x-rays and we have a good chat while we wait. She is warm and lovely and so professional. It distracts me from the pain sizzling in my leg.
Later that afternoon a beautiful bunch of flowers arrive from the guys at work and I am touched by their thoughtfulness. The bosses also sent me emails of well wishes which was a nice gesture.
Day three is the worst. I am in a lot of pain so they pump me full of drugs but the drugs make me feel incredibly nauseas, so they fill me with more drugs which make me sleepy. It is an endless cycle.
I can barely keep my eyes open. I feel like I have no control and it is a horrible feeling.
Every time I wake up briefly I apologise to Mum who is just sitting there watching me sleep.
“I’m so sorry you wasted your time coming to visit me,” I say attempting to keep my eyes open but it is impossible.
The physio comes to have a look at my leg and wants me to do a couple of exercises. I look at her through the slits of my eyes as I struggle to open them and try to move my leg before falling back asleep.
That night Nicky tells me I need to eat something in order to take my pain meds as if I don’t I will be even more nauseas. I attempt to sit up while Mum spoon feeds me lasagna. I feel ill but will myself to swallow. The food feels horrible in my mouth and stomach. I must have looked a sight, here I was sitting up with my eyes closed taking these small bites of food which I could barely chew.
Moments later my efforts were all in vain anyway.
I manage to keep down a biscuit and take the drugs. It is the first thing I have eaten in three days.