Part 2: Bridgerton Series 3, starring PTA

So I was flown to the Major Trauma Centre at the Royal Stoke University Hospital at Stoke on Trent and into a critical care bed in one of their pods. I was to be scanned and assessed for potential spinal damage and the situation of my head injury. Once in the bed, as little movement as possible was vital.

An initial scan revealed a traumatic subarachnoid haemorrhage in the right parietal and temporal areas, a petechial haemorrhage in the right temporal lobe (a brain contusion), and a small bleed from the frontal cortex directly into the area behind my left eye, there was also a zygomatic bone fracture around my right eye. So, there it was, a traumatic brain injury, “t.b.i.”.

I was unconscious for the next 5 days and further investigations were carried out to remove any doubt of a stroke and spine damage. My left side was still paralysed, but at least permanent paralysis was being ruled out.

Then after these 5 days, I regained a degree of consciousness but I would be very agitated and try my best to remove any attached lines, cables and tubes. The staff then put me under into a deep induced coma to cut down on my agitation and to keep me still. Apparently, this involved assisted breathing and feeding via a tube. The agitation would have been the first manifestation of the post-traumatic amnesia, “p.t.a.” that was going to be very apparent in the days and weeks to come.

Headway (the brilliant brain injury charity) describes p.t.a. like this: “Post-traumatic amnesia (PTA) is the time after a period of unconsciousness when the injured person is conscious and awake, but is behaving or talking in a bizarre or uncharacteristic manner.

The person has no continuous memory of day-to-day events, and recent events may be equally affected, so that they are unable to remember what happened a few hours or even a few minutes ago.” The length of time that a patient suffers from pta is used as an indication of the severity of the tbi. Mine lasted 15 days before resolving which gave me a “very severe” tbi (the 6th level of severity out of 7)

The ward also took the time, when I was deeply out, to repair my hand. Apparently, I’d spent the first few days in hospital with the bone of my ring finger in full view, with the stripped back flesh and tendons looking like a rolled down sock, waiting to be reattached. To avoid moving me to an operating theatre, the surgeons reattached everything in my hand whilst I had the luxury of sleeping in my critical care bed in the trauma centre pod.

My first memories are like flashbacks about a week and a half after the accident. I’d been moved from the critical care pod to a bed on the critical care ward. A flash back contains quite sharp and distinct images coupled with a jumble of cascading thoughts. So the first flash back goes like this…

“I’ve woken up. It’s the middle of the night– but I’m in hospital – oh! Ok. So here I am for some reason – not sure why but I want to go to the toilet – so I’ll go. But there’s a man here pushing me back down, saying “Stay in bed please”. Well, sod that, I want a pee, so I’m going, mate. Pushed back again. Then I notice a catheter. What the hell is this doing stuck out of and stuck in to my penis??? Never had one before, but I work out what it is due to its location. Well how I am supposed to use this? I don’t know so I’m off to the loo anyway,” Anyway, I struggle up in the bed again and, don’t ask me how, I know I’m falling, head first off the bed and I see the laminate floor coming to meet me and Bang! I face-plant that floor. The pain is an explosion of light and sound as I hit the floor – the point of impact being my right temple, with pain spreading to that facial fracture. This was the worst pain I’d felt during the whole episode so far and it was lights out after that and fast forward to the next memory – “The Bridgerton episode”. Pta -1: Me -0.

Before this next episode, please can I remind you that pta will bring about bizarre, uncharacteristic behaviour? Fast forward to January 2022, when I was significantly better (no spoilers) and enjoying watching TV with my wife and daughter during those dark winter evenings. I’d got into the 2nd series of Bridgerton, which was fun, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d seen Simone Ashley, the beautiful actress who played Lady Kate Bridgerton, somewhere before. This feeling plagued me as we watched the entire series until the very last episode, when I finally made the connection between Ms Ashley and another flashback which had been bugging me for a while. So, blame the Pta, remember!!

I was standing at the side of my bed. It was dark outside. There were another three people with me, all nurses. Off to the right stood a male nurse watching me; behind me and on the other side of the bed, a female nurse who was also stood still, watching me. Why all this watching? Nobody was moving or saying anything. It was because I was standing behind the third, female nurse, who I now realise happened to be the doppelganger of the beautiful Simone Ashley. As we stood there, next to the window, I seemed to be very kindly hugging her from behind, but my hug actually meant that I was hugging the poor girl’s breasts enthusiastically. The scene cuts then quickly to blackness. As far as I remember, the kindly staff were all calm and there were no raised voices. I know that I was hugging and not wrestling with the nurse in any other way. I have a theory that the staff were able to get me back to bed quite quickly and that I was sedated again. None of the staff mentioned this to me again but I knew this flashback existed, it’s just that I could not put it into context, or fit it into any logical timeline of events. In the days that followed, I could often hear other male patients shouting out gibberish, sometimes sexual in nature and now I conclude that pta was busy and constantly playing hell with patient’s characters and behaviours and it could well be that my behaviour towards that nurse was a common occurrence and staff knew how to deal with unwanted attention from randy brain-injured Welsh cyclists quickly and calmly. Pta -2 : Me – 0

The third pta story is a direct result of the heatwave that was cooking the country at the time. By now, I was well into the second week of my hospital stay, and I had regained consciousness and was getting used to the daily routine of the ward. The seriousness of my crash and injuries had not really sunk in and I seemed to be treating it all like an extended stay in a nice hotel, albeit one where I had to spend the whole day in bed, every day.

It was hot in bed on the ward and so I had to devise a method of keeping cool. I had found that I could create a cooling draught around my lower half by lying down and flapping my knees. This would cause my hospital gown to flap and create a small breeze around my legs. Of course, flapping the gown meant it would migrate upwards and collect around my thighs, and you don’t wear any underwear with a gown, so my constant flapping meant I was constantly flashing to all and any staff and/or visitors who happened to walk past my bed. I was at the front of the ward which meant that there was quite a lot of passing human traffic. The ward was always busy; sorting out major trauma is a lot of work and requires a lot of highly trained and caring staff…or maybe word gets around and they’d heard there was a good show on. Did I care that all was on show for the general public? Of course not – I flapped for hours. Anyway, I do remember that, eventually, a kind nurse stopped by and closed my curtains with the comment “It will help you keep your dignity” Pta: 3 - Me: 0

One more from the pta bank. Operation day:

By the end of my second week, I was due for an operation to fix the cheek fracture, which meant I was down as nil by mouth on the day of the operation. For two consecutive days, the op had to be cancelled which meant I was very hungry by suppertime both days and wolfed down the food provided around 7 pm.

The hospital was always busy. I was aware of the almost constant sound of an air ambulance bringing in new patients and these poor unfortunate people often had to be fast-tracked into the operating theatre for life-saving surgeries. I understood that my operation was to be fitted in when there was an available slot, my cheek fracture was not life-threatening, was it almost like plastic surgery?

On the third day of waiting, it was mid-afternoon, no sign of a theatre porter. And I was starving. I knew there was some chocolate in my bedside cabinet and surely nobody would notice if I sneaked one small Twirl bar. So I did, and it was lush.

An hour later, and still no sign of the porter. And I was starving…again. You know the story, and another Twirl was consumed.

Forty five minutes later and the theatre porter arrived with a smile and announced that I was to have my procedure. “Have you have anything to eat today, sir?” “Nooooooo” came my guilt-ridden answer, but I was sure I’d gotten away with it. “What about these then?” he asked, pointing to the two twirl wrappers (they were only small ones) which were positively glowing on my bed covers. “I’ll just check” he said and called the theatre on his walkie-talkie and……operation cancelled for another day. Pta:4 – Me: 0 But I was starving!!!! No excuse… I know.

The operation was performed the very next day. I hate needles and all things related to Casualty on BBC. I know that I am a baby when it comes to things like this….especially syringes that are on their way into me. Anyway, PTA helped out here, because Rhian reminds me that I was far too chatty and chirpy as I was rolled down to theatre along the corridors. Everyone was greeted with a big smile, a “Hello!”, a thumbs up and a comment about the weather. If I’d have been allowed to, I would have danced my way down there, because, today, I was a model patient. PTA:5 – Me: 0

So I hope that 5 stories are enough to give you an idea of the effects of pta. It is an unavoidable and constant companion following a brain injury. Changes in my mood were going to accompany me for the next 6 weeks as well.

An aside from brain injuries. Let me introduce you to Dactylorhiza fuchsia, or the Common Spotted-orchid which, this spring, made an appearance in my back garden. The eastern and western coastal areas of Anglesey have an abundance of wild orchids. They are a common sight on dunes and also grow on roadside hedges. Three years ago, our own first orchids

started growing at the foot of a mountain ash we have growing at

our front entrance – not the most accessible part of our property, but at least the orchid liked it. This year, I’d followed a “no-mow May” and this was melting into a no-mow June as well, when I noticed the characteristic leaves of this orchid growing on my lawn. The leaves are narrow and pointed, with characteristic dark green spots

covering the lighter green. They eventually grew-on, finally producing the pretty flo

wer spikes you see in the picture. Here’s hoping they come back again next year.

Thanks for reading and see you soon for part 3: Discharge and the Euphoric stage.