”Don’t worry, I got this!” the immortal words I said on video to let all the people I was ok as I lay there with a broken pelvis and leg. Little did I know those words, would inspire this blog and everything I do beyond.
It started like any other Stagg doo, a Friday meetup at the airport, as quick as you can through security and into the bar ASAP for pre-flight drinks. None of us could have imagined what was coming next.
I remember most things from that Saturday, sipping Coronas and a few espressos, leaving the bar around 7 pm but from there I have a black hole until I wake up in the hospital the next morning.
”The good die young, and the hard die best”Wu-Tang Clan
I woke around 5 am to see a hospital ceiling, strapped to the bed, and a tube down my throat (endotracheal tube) helping me breathe. I tried to breathe through my mouth but this was pointless as I choked on the tube, I think I’d seen it in a movie to breath through your nose, luckily it worked. With my breathing in check it was time to work out what had happened, my 1st though being my drink had been spiked and I’ve had a reaction. At this point, the morphine kicks in and I pass out.
It’s around 9 am when I awake in ICU still strapped down and my endotracheal tube still helping me breathe. The doctors and nurses are quick to get the tube out of me, it’s sobering to have something pulled out from deep inside of you. They ask me a few questions, have you been drinking “yep”, but they already know that from my blood test. Once they’re happy they let my visitors in. My brother walks in and my first thought is I’m in trouble but if he’s here then everything is going to be alright.
It turns out I was hit by a car travelling around 60Kph on the Costa Del Sol’s busy A7 highway, this is the equivalent of a UK dual carriageway. I’d broken my pelvis, compound fracture of my tib/fib, a few ribs and issues with subsequent my lung. Apparently whilst laid on the floor I told the lads “I’ll walk it off”, defiantly something I would say.
Not bad for an evenings work.
“I’ll walk it off”
I have nothing to do but wait in ICU, I’m on a blood transfusion, antibiotic’s but my most dangerous is internal bleeding and a very real threat of a blood clot. The doctors and nurse at Costa Del Sol Hospital deserve all the credit, somehow they keep me alive to tell this story.
After a few days in ICU, I have my first surgery to reset the pelvis and I’m moved into the general ward and I have my one and only scare, a reaction to the antibiotics. To this day I’m still not sure what the antibiotic was called or what happened, the only thing I remember was being very very hot and the outer layer of my skin starting to peel off. The changed the antibiotic instantly and I had no further issues.
I’m very luck not only to be alive but for the support I revive in the hospital, not speaking Spanish is tough but the nurses are great with me and the in-house interpreter Vicky is keeps us up today everyday with the progress and next steps.
Throughout this time my brother is with me for the first 2 weeks and my mum flys out after a week. They keep me entertained and fed with ice cream whilst I sit there not able to do anything. I really feel for them, I have it very easy and have no memory of the accident but they had to live through that night no knowing what was happening.
Now just the wait between the NHS and my insurance company to get me repatriated.
I got this!
Lying in a hospital bed for 3 weeks with no mobility really puts your life into perspective, I’d manage to come to inches from death yet still kept my sense of humour. Yet not being able to sit up let alone move made some things impossible, you don’t understand dignity until a nurse rolls you over so you can empty your bowels.
Every so often I meet people who don’t know this story and walk in the middle of the road. We all think we’re invincible, we can take pills for the pain, the doctors stitch your flesh but to have the mental toughness to believe every day that it will get better, support all your family and friends into believing. I’m very lucky I’m a fighter, I had zero bad days but if your not, please don’t walk on the fucking roads!!
The surgeons in Marbella don’t want to perform the next surgery to repair my leg, it should be best done in UK hospital where the recovery steps can be put into place, thankfully in repatriated back to England in week 3 where my recovery takes a jump in pace.
I make it back 1 day before my friends wedding, a re-route to Glasgow and a few drinks was not covered by the insurance.
Here are some links to the original Facebook posts I wrote in 2015 during my recovery in Spain: