Gillian Jackson - The Accident

Hannah began to wake. Awareness of being in a strange place made her think she was still dreaming. Her head ached, her arms felt stiff and she could feel a searing pain throughout most of her body as she struggled to open her eyes. Someone had hold of her hand, squeezing it gently and talking to her; he was repeating her name.

‘Hannah... Hannah, can you hear me?’

It was Mike. She recognised his voice and smiled, but her mouth was sore, her lip felt crusted, and cracked painfully with the movement, her mouth suddenly filled with that awful metallic taste of blood. What was going on? She tried again to open her eyes and saw her husband, sitting on a chair beside a bed, a hospital bed, but why was she in hospital? She tried to turn her head, to ask what was going on but her body was being strangely uncooperative.

‘Mike.’ Her voice was hoarse, raspy. ‘What’s happening?’

‘It’s all right, love. You were in a car accident and you’re in hospital now. Don’t worry, you’re okay and I’m here.’

Her husband stood over her and she could see the anguish in his face — his eyes were watery and red.

‘But I can’t remember.’ Hannah felt panic rising inside her. How could she have been in an accident and not remember?

‘That’s okay. The doctor said you might not remember the accident for a while, but it’ll probably come back to you. It’s not important now.’ He stroked her forehead, pushing a lock of hair behind her ears.

‘What happened? Where was I going? Were the children with me?’ The sudden thought alarmed her and she silently prayed that the twins were okay.

‘They’re both fine, and no they weren’t with you in the car. You were alone. Don’t worry about it now; we can fill you in on the details later.’

Mike forced a smile and she could tell he was trying to reassure her but he was obviously worried, she could always tell when he was worried by the little twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Hannah asked nothing more; it was enough to concentrate on breathing and keeping her eyes open, she was so tired and even these simple tasks were an effort. The pain was nauseating. She could tell her face was swollen and her eyes wouldn’t open fully.

Mike reached over the bed and pressed the call button for the nurse.

‘I’m all right,’ she said. ‘Just tired.’ Hannah was aware of tubes in her arms and one of those cages over her legs. ‘Have I got a broken leg?’ she asked.

‘No, love ... here’s the nurse — she’ll want to see how you are.’

Mike took a step back from the bed and a rather too cheery nurse approached and took hold of her hand.

‘Hello, Hannah, how are you feeling?’

‘Groggy. My head’s pounding and my neck’s stiff. I’m in a lot of pain too.’

‘That’s to be expected. When the doctor’s seen you we can look at increasing the pain meds. You took quite a battering in the accident. There are a few cuts and bruises on your face and head but they’ll heal.’ As she spoke the nurse began to take Hannah’s blood pressure and clipped something like a bulldog clip onto her finger. ‘All good,’ she smiled. ‘Doctor will be round soon but try to rest; we can always wake you again when he comes.’

As she moved away from the bed Mike followed her and when they were out of Hannah’s earshot they exchanged a few whispered words.

‘What was all that about?’ Hannah asked when he came back to her side.

‘Nothing really. Look, I’m going to ring the kids to let them know you’re awake. Rest if you can, I won’t be long.’

‘Why do they need to know that — how long have I been asleep?’ She studied Mike’s worried expression, trying to read what was in his mind.

‘You’ve been in an induced coma, love, for three days.’

‘Three days! What day is it now, and why an induced coma?’ Hannah’s mind was muddled; why did they keep people in an induced coma? She couldn’t think straight.

‘Shh, don’t get yourself upset. I’ll ring the kids and they can come in to see you this evening. They’ve been in a couple of times already, but now you’re awake they’ll be keen to come again.’

Before there was a chance to protest, Mike had gone. Hannah closed her eyes and drifted back into sleep.

‘Do you want to tell her?’ A man’s quiet voice interrupted the sanctuary of sleep.

‘I’d rather you did.’

That was Mike. Hannah opened her eyes, wondering if the children were with him. They weren’t and the curtains were drawn around her bed.

‘Tell me what?’ She looked at the solemn faces of her husband and the man beside him, presumably a doctor, and panic gripped her.

‘Hello, Hannah.’ The man smiled. ‘I’m Dr Singh. I think your husband told you that you’ve been in an accident?’ She nodded, willing him to get to the point. ‘Well, your car was pretty badly damaged and the firemen had no alternative but to cut you out of the wreckage. When you arrived here you’d lost a lot of blood and the damage to your right leg was severe. Surgery was the only option. I’m afraid there was no way we could save your leg.’

Hannah felt her chest tighten as if someone was pressing down on her and hysteria threatened to take over. Struggling to sit up and look down at her legs, she lacked the strength to lift her head, and pain shot through her body.

The doctor put his hand on her shoulder and Mike held her hand.

‘No!’ She pushed against them. Hannah couldn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe it, but her voice wouldn’t come, the words were strangled in sobs. Was he really telling her they’d cut off her leg?

‘We amputated below your knee, which is the best possible outcome we could manage, so in time you’ll be able to have a prosthetic limb fitted, which will mean that you’ll be able to walk.’ The doctor said this as if it was good news, as if she should be grateful.

‘I want to see it,’ Hannah managed to say.

‘Perhaps it’s best not to —’ Mike began but she cut him off.

‘I want to see!’ She was emphatic, the panic turning rapidly to anger.

The doctor motioned to a nurse who was hovering in the background and she came to the top of the bed and began to help Hannah lift her head and shoulders.

‘It’s dressed, of course,’ said the doctor, as he calmly pulled the covers back.

Hannah stared down at the huge mass of bandages where her right leg should have been, horrified at the sight. A plastic tube protruded from the bandages, draining into a bag at the side of the bed and there was a catheter from between her legs. It was so ugly ... and so final.

A sound escaped from somewhere deep inside her, a muffled sob or gasp, when she really wanted to shout and scream. Tears blurred her vision as the nurse gently laid her back down.

‘I know this is a shock now,’ the doctor continued, ‘but in time your body will adjust, and prosthetic limbs are amazing these days. I’ll leave you with your husband now and if you’ve any questions I’ll be back later this afternoon.’

He turned and left, followed by the nurse, as if they couldn’t wait to get out of there. They’d imparted the awful news, done the difficult task and Mike was left alone with her, looking bewildered and awkward.

‘My leg!’ Hannah cried bitterly, the reality of what she’d been told, and what she’d seen for herself, was almost too painful to bear. Her husband’s arms were suddenly around her and she clung to him as she sobbed, feeling Mike’s own tears, warm against her face.

‘I know, I know, it’ll be all right...’ he repeated.

Empty words, she thought, how could it be all right ever again?

A few minutes later a nurse peered through the curtains.