This week, I
returned to uni after the ridiculously long semester break. It was great to see
everyone again and I was keen to get stuck into some writing exercises. And
then I got THE call…
Earlier that
day, I’d dropped my hubby off at hospital as a day patient for a “routine” procedure to tackle a minor heart problem. Unfortunately, he experienced
serious complications and very quickly lapsed into a critical condition. It was
horrendous to watch the man you love dearly suffer extreme pain and trauma. He
needed a lifesaving operation and ended the day in intensive care rather than
being home in time for Masterchef.
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| Edinburgh Royal Infirmary- the scene of my family crisis |
Later that
night, when the Holby city style drama had subsided, I realised that the
overnight bag I’d requested my son to pack in a hurry was lacking a few basic
essentials. I’d forgotten to ask for my pjs, a change of clothes and my make-up
bag (after a sleepless night, I was a scary sight). But what I had remembered
to ask for was a book, paper and a pen. Were these essentials? Yes!
When
everything around me was out of control, the one thing that I did have control
over was words. I read for escapism and I write for escapism too. When my soul
mate’s life was at risk, I needed my book and my scribbles. I didn’t need the
pjs or clothes but anyone seeing me the next day would argue that I did need my
make-up bag!
Once my
hubby was stable, he was able to joke with me that the whole experience would
make a great short story. I don’t know about that, and I would rather not have
writing material based on his distressing ordeal. But what I do know is that words
helped get me through some of the worst days of my life. And I’ve written a morbid poem to prove it!
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| My precious hubby in healthier times |
