So it's that time again for another blog about my bike crash on April 15th. This is going to be a real biggy, you have been warned. It's been a bit longer than I would have liked to update the blog but a lot has happened since the last one. If you have not caught up with the last one I would advise you do so as the 3rd blog has a lot of stuff in, some funny and some serious but all good nonetheless. Also, this blog will make a lot more sense if you have read it. As always I will start with a huge thanks to all that have supported me through this journey, all your messages and visits mean so much to me, I didn't know I had this many friends that's for sure. I've been humbled by it all. Again I want to thank the 3 special people...Meggy, Mum and Andy. You guys have been on top form and helping me so much, if it wasn't for you guys I would make for a very entertaining tv show I think. Thank you soooo so much all of you, you rock!!!

So as you might remember from the last blog I had 2 guys in the ward called Pete and Kev. Now Pete and I were using walking aids (crutches and a zim zim zimmer) and Kev was ok to walk so we just use to get him to do everything for us around the ward when the nurses were not around. I gave him the nickname leggsy. At first he didn't approve but he grew to love it really, just such a shame he is a chelsea fan. Well we decided that the 3 of us would take a mission to the outside world as Pete had not reached that far yet. I also wanted my hit of that fresh Bristol smoke drenched air (smokers corner happens to be next to our exit door). So on one sunny day we decided it was time for it. We prepared ourselves. I put on my one trainer, Pete put on his stylish hospital slippers and Kev aka leggsy already had both trainers on ready for our great trek to the wild outdoors. So the 3 amigos went for it, we looked so funny. 3 slow moving guys having to stop every 10 meters for a rest. Well we got to the waiting room and needed a rest already. So after a few mins we went back to it. We went for the sprint finish to that exit door just graving that fresh air. Soon as we walked through the sliding door the smell of a thousand smokers punched me square in the face. So as there are no chairs we headed for the opposite side to where the faggers are and rested against the wall. I really needed to sit down though as I got really light headed and didn't feel good at all. I took off back inside and didn't stop until I got to the waiting room as I knew I would be on the floor if I did. I fell onto the chairs and got my breath back and let my head come back to normality. I have to understand, I need to learn to walk again before I can run. I'm trying to push myself to early and it's not doing me any favours. It was a harsh lesson but one that I needed. We all got back to the ward and all fell asleep as that's the most exercise we had done in some time. 

The next day meggy had come for the lunch time visit. It was a lovely day and as we had been told about a little nature reserve just down from the smokey exit, I thought it would be nice just to go sit in amongst the trees and breathe in some fresh air and after my last performance I wanted to redeem myself. So we headed off and got to the exit again, this time I just kept going until we had crossed the road away from the doors. I regained some strength and we kept going until we saw the bench. Luckily my meggy had bought along a chair for me to sit on incase I needed a rest, well I used that to sit in the sun right next to a tree. I took in some big deep snorts of air and my lungs felt so refreshed and full for the first time in nearly 3 weeks. I basked in the sun for a bit like an old crocodile. I had some good cuddle time with megs then we headed back into the warm sticky ward that is the mighty 104. The guys were all a bit jealous of my adventure outside the boundaries of hospital walls (well technically it's not actually but shhhh) into the wilderness. They were jealous but not as much as I was when they told me that they were both leaving the next afternoon. I was so gutted for 2 reasons. The first being that we shared stories, lifted each others spirits, compared war wounds, sang stupid songs together, lost our dignity together and laughed about it, met each others partners, cheered each other on when doing physio and just became good friends. The second reason.....I wanted to watch the footy with them in the evening and take the piss out of Kev for being a Chelsea fan, not as nice as the first reason but still....it's a reason!! Megs had to watch the footy with me in the waiting room in the end, she was soooo pleased with that, well maybe not but she stayed with me throughout so she gets some extra girlfriend points for that. At the end of the game I decided I want to tackle the steps again. Earlier in the day the physio had tested me on how I cope with steps. I flew up one flight and back down again with ease so they did not worry about me what so ever. I didn't feel like I had done enough steps for the day so that's why I asked megs to watch me as I had another go. I got up the first flight ok then I looked across at the second set and just went for them too. I then made the decent down to the bottom and was greeted by a big hug. It felt good. I know I'm not going to be walking for a while so the sooner I get use to using the crutches the better. The next day came and was time to say goodbye to the guys. I was in the process of cutting my beard with the smallest scissors known to mankind when Pete said he was off, we had a manly hug but crutches and zimmer frames got in the way so we couldn't quite get the full effect of the man hug. Was sad to see him go. Then Kevs turn a bit later in the day. We just had a man hand shake insted as he is a Chelsea fan and I didn't want to be seen hugging the enemy. Both guys were great and I had much fun with them and they are some of the reason I have the attitude I do. Keep your eyes on the prize!!

So they told me that I can go home on the Friday 6th of May. Which was only a day or two away at the time. I had the head surgeon come and talk to me, Mum and Andy one last time  before I left. He had been away for 10 days so I have had all these different people telling me other things in his absence. Things about my injuries and healing time etc. Mr Wilson (surgeon) just turned round and said "don't listen to anyone else, I was the one who operated on you, so just listen to me". Simple as that. He then went onto to answer all my questions I had stored up in me while he had been away. One of them being about my breaks in the leg and weight bearing on it. I was originally told I had fractured the femur above the knee but Mr Wilson told me I have scraped away a bit of the femur so it's not classed as a fracture therefore not treated the same. He also told me that I have scraped a third of the knee away and parts of the shin and I have lost the fibula completely (bone underneath the shin in the calf area). As there are no real big breaks he said I can actually place the foot down to rest and put minimal weight through it, a bit different to one of his minions telling me I wont be putting weight on it for 6 months.....6 frikkin months, I knew he was mental from the first day I seen that minion. Also Mr Wilson told me that he wants me to try having a shower with all the dressings off. I was nervous as hell when he said that as I have a huge open wound in my leg and I thought it would really hurt but he assured me it wouldn't. If I remember correctly, another surgeon said that to me once before experiencing a lot of pain, but surely I can trust Mr Wilson, he told me to listen to him afterall. He said it would be 6 months before I have any other operations to fix bones etc because he wants all my new muscle to scar up and fix itself around my leg bones to try and see if it's enough to support my leg or not. So I know I got 6-8 months without going under the knife again. He said goodbye and I would see him again in 2 weeks to see how I'm healing. I felt encouraged after speaking with him.

One thing I did ask Mr Wilson was for my cast to get changed. The reason being because when my leg was leaking a bacteria that truly smelt disgusting, it had sneakily snuck it's smelly substance inside my supportive sexy green cast. It stank. So I asked for a new one, secretly I also wanted a new colour. So this meant another trip to the dreaded plasters unit!!! As you know they are a mean bunch and dont like the plastics unit, I wrote about it in the last blog so I won't go into detail. The look on their faces as they seen me being wheeled in. If I could have taken a picture it would have been brilliant. "we are not giving you a new cast as we only did this one a week ago" blah blah just do your job and give me a new cast please. They were ok after a little softening up with some light humour. Whilst I was having my new cast (I chose red with White trim, also matches man utd woop) my friend Jimbo came into visit. He is a baker and he made me my very own tiger loaf. It was perfect, warm, soft and crispy on the top with just the right amount of chewiness mmmm, good baking skills Jimmy boy. All the nurses doing my cast could smell the bread and I kept teasing them with it. I even offered them a bit but deep down I was hoping they would say no, luckily they did. I wanted it all to myself as I am a lover of fine foods, well....does tiger bread count? It's my blog so yea, it does. I ate that bad boy up like I had never eaten food in my life. So I returned to my part empty ward and showed of my new sexy cast to the nurses. 

It was the Thursday night, my last night in hospital. We had the 2 empty beds filled up already. The first guy was a really nice fella called Jo. He got electrocuted at his home then was knocked out and cause of the heat his clothes set on fire. He was lucky that the flames died out before the house went up too. He woke up and because of the fumes he was really span out and just walked around his house moving objects as he didn't think anything was wrong. A friend came round an hour later and found Jo a burnt mess so he rushed him in to Frenchay. Sadly he will have to have his thumb amputated as it was so burnt, he did show me and it was just a black mimic of a thumb. I felt for him. He is a dad and husband but luckily they were out the house and it didn't happen to one of his kids. I tried my best to feed him with positive thoughts and good vibes. I like to think I helped him a little bit in the short time we had there together. The other guy in the second bed I didn't like so much. He was from Swindon and lives with an Aussie, so now he has an Aussie accent because of it, he is also a guy who was all about himself, I hate people that are all "me, me me" I hate it. When the old chap next to me would be speaking, this turd would just interrupt and go one better than him.  He has done everything, won everything, been everywhere, knows everyone and thinks he is the man....fek off you annoying selfish self centred muppet. Oooopps I just had a brain fart, sorry about that but he really did rub us all up the wrong way. It was during that evening it hit me really. I was having a quite moment within myself and I started to think about home, life when I'm back, challenges ahead etc etc. I felt really bored for the first time in 3 weeks, I have always had good people in the ward to talk too and joke with but the other guys were all asleep so I had nothing to do apart from think. I just felt so bored and ready for home, only about 18 hours to go and I would be home. 

Friday....going home day. All the nurses kept coming up to me saying "Stuarts going home, Stuarts going home". They were all very surprised that I was going home as early as I was because I was due in for at least 6-8 weeks, but I'm out within 3. I put that down to youth, fitness and a strong, positive mental attitude. So as it was the last day, it was shower time. They took my dressings off and I managed to get down to the shower. This is the first shower in 3 weeks and also the first time I have been stood up with no dressings or support on my leg. I was left alone in the shower room and all of a sudden I felt useless. My right leg couldn't move as i lost a lot of muscle and my knee is so unstable. I also have the dropped foot which makes things hard. I just stood there staring at my legs and comparing my little left leg compared to this massive wounded lifeless leg. I felt quite emotional in that shower but I held it together as I knew it could be so much worse and I know I won't be like this forever. I dried myself off and crutched my way back to my bed, passing all the nurses and doctors in just my boxers, showing off my leg to everyone that passed. I got a lot of comments and people staring. By the time I managed it back to bed I was already sweating loads so the shower was kinda a pointless emotional exercise, or was it? They put my final dressings back on and briefed me for going home, they told me everything I needed to know, they warned me that it was going to be hard and I was going to be very tired and weak. They weren't lying that's for sure. So it was time to say my goodbyes. Leaving the ward was almost like leaving home, packing up all my stuff as my sister emmie come to pick me up to chauffeur me home. Said goodbye to all the guys on the ward and then all the nurses, I grew to love them all and they all have there own way with dealing with you but they all helped me a huge amount so a big shout out of respect to them, they work so hard. One of the male nurses came up to me and actually said it was the worst leg injury he had seen in 4 years of working in Frenchay. Also one of the female surgeons came up to me before I left with the biggest smile on her face and just said to me that she has never seen an injury that bad in her career when they have actually been able to save the leg, she said it is just amazing what they did and how amazing it was for me to be leaving in only 3 weeks of being there. That just cemented how lucky I was in this accident. I was also told that if I had gone to any other hospitals with this injury then I would most certainly not have a right leg right now and these blogs would be very different. I'm lucky, I know it and I never forget it, I don't need reminding, I say my thank you's everyday trust me. 

It was time to go home. My sister has a nice big mini bus style van so she took one seat out in front so I could get my leg up comfy for the trip home. It felt amazing being in the car park, I felt like a naughty kid being in a place I shouldn't be. I almost felt freedom, but a bit sad for leaving the hospital for some strange reason. You become your surroundings so that's probably why I had that feeling. I got in the van and we set off, my first sight of cars since the crash. I am not going to lie, that car trip home was hard to start with especially on the motoway because when I looked at oncoming cars I just kept thinking they were going to swerve into me and I felt pain in my leg and I felt a bit sick. I just kept my head down for a few mins and enjoyed some fun banter with my sis instead. I asked emmie if she could drive down the road where the crash happened. We came down what would have been the silver hondas side. I can't not see how he would not have seen me...I don't get it. Something happend in his head just before he hit me and I want to know what it was, he was not thinking straight I know that much. Anyway, when we pulled up onto my drive i felt so alive, I took a huge deep suck on that beautiful country air, no fags, no motorway near by poisoning our fresh air. I had big hugs from everyone and then came into the house and gave my cat Jessie the biggest hug ever. Felt so nice being home. 

I know this has been a huge huge blog but I want to just add one last part about how home life has been the last week. To start with it didn't feel right in my head, something just didn't make sense, I couldnt put my finger on it. The drugs didn't help at all. It was so nice to finally cuddle up with megs and the cat on the sofa again but I just couldn't seem to get comfy, I kept sweating loads and having really bad nightmares. At one stage I just felt as though I wasn't in my body, it felt awkward, that's the only way I can describe it. So I tried bringing my medication down to one tramadol instead of two, that didn't help, just made it worse. So I kept at it and slowly my body and mind has got use to being at home again. We have had to change a few things like chairs in the kitchen and bathroom, what side of the bed I sleep on, keeping a light on for my mid-night pee's, lots of cusions for elevating my leg and a few other bits and bobs. It's getting easier that's for sure and im building strength back up to which helps with mobility. Now there is one little issue I struggled alot with, it's got 4 wheels, a leg extension and looks like a horrid attempt at being a wheelchair. They have told me I need it if I'm doing anything which involves lots of walking etc. I refused to use it anywhere so far apart from the confinements of my own home as I don't want to be seen on it. The first night I just snarled at it like some bully picking on some poor kid. I got told off by megs and slowly I have become fond of little old wheeler....yes its called wheeler. The name given to it from meggy. I tried using it to go up the garden path for my first test drive. I think the tracking must be out because I crashed and my wheel got stuck inbetween the path and the grass. I had to swallow my pride and call for help, so at the top of my voice I screamed like some little child "meggy!!!! I crashed". She came to my rescue and pulled me free then wheeled me back to safety. After that near death experience I've learnt that I need a few wheelchair lessons before I go for my next spin. I am defiantly not ready for a supermarket just yet. 

If you are still reading, thank you. I might have rambled on a lot but that's not surprise. The most common question at the moment is will I ever ride again. This is my answer to that...i started martial arts and fighting because I'm scared of fighting, I'm scared of confrontation, I fear getting hurt and i hate hurting people. I wanted to fight my fears head on, I wanted to overcome and defeat those things I'm scared of. That's why I fight. It will be the same with the bike now. Ive now been scared by the bike, so one day I will just finish the ride I was going on just to defeat that fear that's grown in me since my crash. Fight your fears, be strong and live life, love others, take care of yourself and be safe. All my love.

Stu x