16th May 2008 Part 2

The ambulance took us from Woolacombe to Barnstaple. Even outside of the holiday season this would normally take a long time, especially in the early evening. Anne had various instruments and breathing aids connected to her. I held her hand hoping for a response but she seemed fast asleep. It almost felt peaceful after the frantic activity of the last half hour but we were rattling along bumpy roads with a siren sounding. I was hoping Anne would wake up along the way and she could experience some of the excitement of the ambulance, however groggy, she would enjoy that kind of thing. I was thinking this might spoil the beginning of the holiday, she wasn't the sort to take things easy all day long as I suspected she would have to. 7pm lying on the couch until bed o'clock maybe. Then suddenly we arrived at Barnstable hospital, a mere 20 minutes after we left Woolacombe, that was quick.

Anne was rushed through a pair of well bashed doors on a trolley and I went in with her to protect er, be thre for her. Then an administrator came along and took me outside to get some personal details. I reeled off the details not knowing who her GP was but having some ide of where the surgery was but no problem with the rest. I returned to the emergency room but they said she had to be taken off for an MRI scan, I could sit in the waiting room. I went outside, telling the lady on reception where I was going and knew I had to alert her boys.

Much of what follows is possibly a bit generalised, time had no meaning.

I spoke with Richard, told him Mum had fallen off the bike and knocked herself out, he laughed in that "typical Mum" way. I wasn't sure if she would be kept in but asked him if he could head for Woolacombe, still 4 hours away where I had secreted a key so he could feed the dogs and let them do what they almost certainly had to do.

A while later a tall, serious-faced Asian looking man asked if he could have a word. He told me Anne had a bleed, I said I had seen this already, I had seen the blood on the road and had some of it about my clothes and hands. He said there was a bleed inside her skull, this didn't sound so minor. I asked him if the boys should carry on for Woolacombe or head for the hospital, he stiffened and said no, they should DEFINITELY head for the hospital. It went right through me, this sounded bad. I immediately thought of longer term damage, how would Anne cope, somebody who loved an active life, with a potentially long period of recovery. I was told about the Derriford brain injuries unit in Plymouth. They would send the scan over electronically, they would look at it and advise the next course of action, it was possible they would send her over there, it was two hours away even in an ambulance with flashing lights, the other side of Dartmoor.

I began to get seriously worried, felt very alone, worried Anne was alone too. I made some phone calls and updated her sons and best friend, still trying to sound positive but I feared Anne might not be quite the same person after this, the same superstar amongst her friends. But I shouldn't jump to conclusions. I told them they might have to head for Plymouth rather than Barnstaple but either way get here quickly if you can, even though a Friday evening on the M4 and M5 was hardly the time and place for mercy dashes.

Around half an hour later, having been told I could sit in a special room which I didn't use, the serious man said Anne would have to be transferred to Derriford and it would have to be by helicopter as her life was in danger, again I was shocked, this doesn't happen to us. I was told there wouldn't be room for me in the air ambulance so could I make my own way there. I explained my car was in Woolacombe, spoke with the receptionist about local taxi services but either way I wasn't leaving Anne's side until the last minute. More time passed then I was told I would be able to travel in the air ambulance, I was so relieved,  wanted to be there with Anne all the way, not leave her with strangers who kept calling her Anne-Marie because that was the name she was registered as, written on her wristband and the board attached to the bed.

I made more phone calls, got the post code of Derriford for the boys' Sat Navs, tried to think through the dog arrangements, how to get back from Plymouth to Woolacombe for them, tried to reason with what happened and what was happening now. All of a sudden a helicopter was arriving and we were on stand by.

We went out to a field at the back of the hospital. I was expecting something small but it was an enormous Royal Navy Sea King. I knew from previous pleasure flights, once with Anne, what to do, keep your head down, head for the entrance. I remember us being inside, me at the back, Anne on a bed in the middle with an anaesthetist sat next to her getting on with his job. A man in a helmet with enormous earphones on and a cable attached from his helmet to the body of the interior shouted instructions to me and kept raising two thunbs. It was like M*A*S*H. All inside was in semi-dark, military green everywhere, it wasn't the visually sterile environment of the hospital, I thought of The Falklands, Vietnam. As levels were constantly adjusted to Anne's gas supplies I was thinking how jealous she would be at having slept through this, something she would love, I couldn't wait to tell her about it afterwards when she was better. After a while of getting used to the surroundings, and having the two thumbs man constantly checking on me and reassuring, the oddness of seeing Anne in front of me but asleep on the bed surrounded by dark green, without me by her side holding her hand, I looked out of the window at the peaceful Devon countryside, mainly dark, the occasional light here and there, oblivious to what was passing overhead. I was very cold, dressed for a wam may day, in a cold helicopter in the twilight of the day, a very different day to what it was supposed to be.

After half and hour or so we arrived at Derriford. I assumed we would come down and get out but it was an airfield at the back of the civil/military hospital. We seemed to taxi for a very long time along the runway. An ambulance was waiting to take us the 100 yards or so from the airfield to the hospital.

The next hour or so is a blank.

Towards midnight the boys arrived, I ran through what had happened, we held each other, laughed at Anne having such a silly accident on a bicycle then waited. Just after midnight a man with the air of somebody who looked as if he knew what he was on about came into the waiting room we had previously shared with a family deeply concerned about one of their members. He ran through their findings, again described the bleed , all the while looking calm but serious. Then he told us there was a high level of risk to Anne's life, the bleed had put pressure on the brain stem and there was currently a lack of response to tests. We sat there stoically, very British, but knew this was not just a case of being knocked out.