The Main Event

This time of year much of the work in the garden involves preparing for the next years display whether that be planting spring bulbs, moving, dividing plants or as I have been doing today preparing the soil ready for late autumn planting of 3 bare root fruit trees.

The trees I am planting will never become full size orchard specimens, instead they will be trained on wires attached to short stout posts as stepovers to edge a border. The yields are not as high, however in a small space more varieties can be grown in this way. Preparation of the soil for all trees is the same no matter the size. The better the ground work before planting will give them the best chance to grow away with good strong root systems.

My trauma surgeon followed the same principle when he planned the surgery to put my pelvis back together. This meant that for the week following the accident my left leg was attached to a heavy weight hanging off the end of the bed, gradually pulling my leg out by degrees from within the shattered hip socket In preparation for the repair work to come.

The strength and fitness I had built up over the years- labouring in mine and other people’s gardens as well as swimming, cycling, keep-fit classes and Salsa dancing was about to stand me in good stead for the immediate future and beyond. Although the flip side of this in the months/years to come would be frustration at my forced inactivity.

In my hospital bed with my lower half rendered immobile, my upper body bore the brunt of any attempts at movement using the cold metal triangular hoist above my head. The heavy lead weight was forever dragging me down the bed, my arms were forever heaving me slowly-on account of the eight broken ribs back up. This scenario and others-think balancing on unstable cardboard bed pans, went on many times during that long painful week until this date back in 2012.

I was informed by a nurse the day before that I was ‘The Main Event’and would be going down for surgery at 9am. I had briefly met the lead surgeon earlier in the week to outline his plan of action. My short list of questions were at the ready, in the event my mind a jumble with all the strong medication and information I could only ask one ‘will I be able to dance again?’ He chose to evade giving an answer. A removable filter was to be inserted in my neck the day before surgery, this would catch/break up any clots to reduce the chances of me suffering a possible fatal embolism on the table! At this point as I signed the consent form I found myself wondering with the seriousness of the upcoming surgery, would the night before be the last time I ever saw my family again. My morbid thoughts were threatening to overwhelm me……….

Thanks to good pre op preparations – many painful X-rays, traction, blood transfusions and more my surgeon gave himself during the 7 1/2 hour operation the best chance to fix my shattered bones and in turn gave me the best chance to grow strong once again. I was hopeful my damaged nerves would slowly like the fine roots beneath the trees grow out and in time along with my damaged bones and muscles stabilise my body to walk and eventually stand tall once again.





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