After literally weeks of banging on that things were quite and sending countless increasingly emails, we got a call from Jake's consultant at to say "I've reviewed the latest CT scan with a Consultant Surgeon, this needs to be dealt with today, there is an ambulance on the way". Gulp.
First thought; good. Second thought; oh God, here we go again. Third thought; how the hell am I going to explain this to Jake through the fog of aphasia and hydrocephalus? Fourth thought; I should get out of this towel before the ambulance arrives!
Thankfully the ever calm and generally amazing Keeley (Jake's primary carer) was there and took us both in hand with her usual air of quiet competence and we arrived at the emergency admissions ward at Poole Hospital at 10:00am. Jake was now by and the registrar assured us that we would soon be transferred to Southampton Hospital for emergency surgery and we were looking at this all happening "in hours rather than days". All very scary.. very exciting. Getting the shunt fixed meant getting Jake back on track.
Another CT scan was quickly done and sent over to Southampton and then we waited..when the ambulance finally arrived. On arrival we were admitted to the transitional unit and waited for Jake to be admitted and assessed.
At this point it is important to stress that I think theis utterly amazing. The support, care, expertise, investment and understanding we have received over the last 19 months has been truly amazing.
Southampton, however, did not fill me with confidence. It took 90 minutes for someone to come and check on Jake who, as sister in law said, is an emergencyand could have been dead for all they knew.
Awe were finally seen by the registrar who was a very pleasant chap who seemed to know his stuff, which was all very comforting for the first ten minutes, up to the point when he said "has he had a brain injury before?", quickly followed by "what's his name?". He knew NOTHING about Jake's severe brain injury and clearly thought he was dealing with a straight forward case of organic hydrocephalus. Having put him right and filled him in on the last 19 months and I did our best not to communicate our belief that he was as capable as a mummified slug and off he went to read the notes.. , that's right, he hadn't read the notes.
Back he trotted with the news that Jake was now "first on tomorrow's emergency list" and Jake was finally allowed to eat and drink something atafter 13 hours nil by mouth.
Meeting for breakfast in the hotel the next morningand I were feeling positive that Jake would soon be in theatre and all would be well. I called the ward at to see if he'd gone down yet (having learnt the hard way, and I do our best to ignore the whole outside of a theatre watching the minutes crawl scenario and had planned to get there after he had been moved to recovery). You can imagine my confusion when I was told that not on the emergency list anymore, they'll get to him today if they have time".
Hang on, how can he be rushed in as an emergency case with the consultantsurgeon insisting it needed to be dealt with immediately and then suddenly no longer be that urgent despite worsening symptoms? This sounded VERY wrong to me, so out came the warrior wife armour and and I planned our strategy for them to . Cutting a long, distressing and often fraught story short, we got the consultants to communicate and we were back on track for surgery on Thursday.
Of course, during this time a very confused and frightened Jake was lying in a strange ward, not allowed to eat or drink for two days and not really understanding why he was here. He was amazing and coped unbelievably well, of course.
Finally, atyesterday, I held my Jake's hand as the anaesthetist sent him off to sleep and he was wheeled off into theatre. and I then had the joy of what is absolutely the worst bit, the waiting. Much coffee and tea is consumed and much banal small talk is half made.
Athe was taken to recovery and at we got to go and see him. He was very groggy and uncomfortable but seemed to know us, so we reluctantly headed back to the hotel to eat.. drink.
Emboldened by too much wine I broke my own rule and called the ward at, to . What I hadn't expected to hear was "he's fine, sitting up in bed having a cup of coffee, would you like to speak to him?". Err.. yes!
Gladiator Jake had done it again "is that my wife?...hello wife" said he, "bloody hell" said I!
So this morning we start again with hope going up and hopefully I'll be able to get he chorus of Lilly Allen'sout of my brain and replace it with something a little more appropriate, any suggestions?