Some unknown day in December 2023.

Hmm, I’m in a hospital bed I think, its quiet, I don’t hear anything apart from the beeping of machines.

Above me in the ceiling I can see lights, lights moving in a repeating pattern, green.

There has obviously been some mistake. They must think I am someone else, someone that should be here but it’s not me. They will realise and everything will be ok. In the meantime, I watch the lights moving on the ceiling, it could have been for 2 minutes or 2 days, I have no idea. Is it daytime or night?

Someone is in the room. A man, talking to me I think, about the Scottish islands. Have I been? He asks. I make no attempt to answer. He’s talking to me like this isn’t odd. Its ok though, I’ll just stay here until they realise the mix up and then I’ll go home.

My oldest daughter is in my face, like her face takes up my whole field of vision. Talking to me, telling me she loves me, over and over. Why is she speaking to me in such an odd way? like I’m a child, or deaf.

Next my other daughter, pacing around the room, talking, I don’t know what she is saying but I can see her walking around.

I make no attempt to speak; it hasn’t occurred to me that I can’t speak. It hasn’t occurred to me that I can’t move. It hasn’t occurred to be that I have a tube in my mouth. My mind is completely blank.

I don’t remember being told what happened, I just seemed to know. I find out later they told me over and over, at some point I must have understood a little. I didn’t feel frightened. These snap shots of time and memories gradually become more and more. My family is there all the time. My wife, thank goodness, is always by my side. My 3 children, always there.

I learn that a few weeks earlier I had caught covid which had quickly developed into strep pneumonia, sepsis with multi organ failure, acute liver failure, and many other complications.

I learned that I had been placed in an induced coma to try and stabilise my body, to allow it to rest and give it a fighting chance of surviving all this. My sedation had been lifted after a few days, but it took many more days for me to wake. During that time, I suffered some medical emergencies and was suspected to have suffered a brain injury. My wife got the dreaded middle of the night phone call to go in; my kids were still at the hospital, fortunately. A neurologist from another hospital was brought in to assess me, he said no, there wasn’t any brain damage. My reluctance to wake was due to deranged ammonia and sodium levels. Phew!

 

When I woke, I could not move below my neck. Although I was able to move my head a little, the rest of my body was paralyzed below the neck, I later learned this was from muscle wastage. Because my lungs had become so damaged they were not strong enough for me to be extubated so unusually they kept me fully awake and intubated, possible because I couldn’t move to try and take the tube out myself. I had this for 5 days, this for me was where my trauma comes from. I felt as if I were truly drowning. Especially every time I was laid flat which as we know is often in ICU. This also meant I had absolutely no means to communicate. I couldn’t ask what was happening or tell them I had pain. I couldn’t tell them I was utterly terrified every time they laid me flat. I felt even more vulnerable than a newborn, I didn’t even have a voice to cry. I was 100% reliant for my every need.

After the 5 days of being awake while still intubated they finally felt able to try me without the tube, if I couldn’t manage, they would perform a trachy. Thankfully I could manage, although it didn’t seem it to me, again I felt like I was going to drown on secretions, but I was very relieved to have the tube out.

Finally with the tube out I was able to mouth/whisper. My first words, ‘what happened?’

‘When can I see Arlo?’ my baby grandson.

The first thing I wanted and had been dreaming of a drink of fanta. But that first sip was heavenly, even if it ended up coming out of my nose due to a nasal tube I had in to allow suction. Still, it was temporarily delicious!

During these early days I was seen often by physio’s, carrying out treatments on my chest many times a day. They also used passive movement to try and reduced the muscle loss as much as possible. I was used as a guinea pig for an over bed bike they were trialing that allowed my legs to cycle passively while I was still in the coma. This slowly moved on to real physical therapy. My physios were absolutely God sent; I was determined that the fight for recovery was going to be fought and won in my mind. I was determined to get back to normal. I had a new grandbaby due in just a few weeks, and I wanted to be out for that! Physio became my full-time job. For me to cope in hospital I needed to create a schedule for myself, to give each day structure. A lot of this revolved around physio, and tv! Much to the staff’s amusement I had every ambulance and A&E programme I could find! This was over Christmas and any Christmas TV was an absolute no!

After a month I stepped down onto a respiratory ward and although they didn’t need to, my ICU physios continued to work with me, coming to me daily to work with the ward team. I am forever grateful.

I remember the day, with the help of four physios I stood, elation!! I could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel; I was on the home straight.

Eventually I was ready for home, equally exciting and terrifying. Everything in hospital is adapted to help you, how would I manage at home? Luckily, I had a great discharge plan and team. I had OT’s, Physio’s, a dietician, and a fantastic GP. The GP and physio came to my home until I was able to get out. The OT’s provided the bulk of the kit I needed to manage at home, my wife sourced the rest. My step-daughter and her husband quickly installing hand rails as we drove home! Between my amazing wife and family, I had around the clock care and support and slowly, gradually I got more mobile, stronger, and regained independence in baby steps, but all progress was a win!!

My health was compromised before I became critically unwell and remains a challenge. I had a second ICU admission and coma in2025. This time the circumstances were different. I suffered a ruptured stomach which developed into sepsis again, requiring emergency surgery. Due to my compromised health they decided to keep me sedated following surgery which turned into 5 days in a coma this time. Even though it was only five days, my mobility deteriorated significantly and I needed substantial recovery to become mobile again. Tricky this time due to navigating the pain from a big abdominal surgery while trying to do physio to get back on my feet.

This time took more of a psychological toll, I felt overwhelmed by the thought of another long recovery and all that brings. This time needed me to dig even deeper, but I won’t say there weren’t some dark days early on.

I feel very fortunate that both times I did not suffer from delirium, I can’t imagine what that must be like. I have however been left with PTSD. Not from poor care, I couldn’t fault mine but from the trauma of helplessness, total vulnerability, the fear and undoubtably some of the things they must do to your body to keep you alive.

 In hospital and at home this showed in my trying to have control over things I could control. I was a bit obsessive about my table, my things needed to be in the right place. One time they moved my bed to a space that didn’t have a TV, I broke down completely. The TV was so much a part of the daily routine I had created for myself. Thankfully, a kind lady swapped as she didn’t need one. This continues today, I am very particular about certain things, my family have learned to just let me get on with it, but a total lack of control is a very frightening experience. This plays out in almost nightly dreams/nightmares. I have since learned it’s called ‘lucid dreaming.’ For me it’s very unpleasant but I am working with a therapist now and I am hopeful that these dreams will lesson over time.

My ICU experiences have undoubtably changed me, I couldn’t return to a career I loved but I am finding new ways to try and help others in the same situation. I try hard to remain positive but its not always possible, especially with ongoing health problems. But I am very glad I found CCSN, the peer support and sharing of experiences has really helped me. I know however odd my question is someone else will know the answer, and if they didn’t there would never be any judgement, a community who truly understands. I could write a book about my experiences, above is just a quick(ish) overview but I am passionate about helping others on this journey. I have taken part in a couple of research projects helping to shape the future of post ICU recovery support and I am happy to share my experiences in anyway if it helps others.

And… the best bit… I was able to be at my grandson’s birth!!