On the 15th August… my life as I new it changed.
I was in the city and tripped over a balustrading on the building site where they are building the new Bank station. I was with a friend thank God. He was wonderful. Called an Uber, and didn't even think of calling an ambulance. Both wrists looked very odd and out of shape. He took me straight to emergency at St Thomas. Spent a few hours in excruciating pain waiting to see a consultant. Hours later them trying to manipulate my right wrist (the worst of the two), some awsum drugs - in a pencil I sucked on gratefully. Ex-rays and scans later. Both my wrists have broken the right I had shatteredbone. They needed to operate. I was admitted into the hospital......
I need to tell you if you ever need to land up in a hospital St Thomas is it. My window overlooked Big Ben, The Thames, Houses of Parliament, The Eye it was incredible. My only wish was that The Queen had passed away a few weeks earlier - I would have had a prime view of the parade. My son set up my phone clipped to the side of the bed, as I was unable to manage it. I learnt to meditate through the pain and noise (morphine didn't even help) and listened to loads of podcasts.
I spent 2 weeks in there with both arms in plaster above my elbows. I promise you it was purgatory. Me both arms - what did the universe want of me? Simple tasks were impossible. Going to the toilet - I will leave it to your imagination. I bought all the gadgets I could finbut it was still impossible. I had to rely othe wonderful humans of NHS, they were amazing. Family and friends were amazing. I was eventually transferred to Guy's hospital. The hand specialist operated from there. Not a great view but right next to London Bridge station. I was eventually operated on. I have metal plates in both wrists. The right wrist has screws to hold the pieces of bone together.
I eventually got out 3 weeks later in turquoise and red casts. (I had to find the humour in it somehow) I moved into my sons shed with NHS care nurse twice a day ( I couldn't expect him and his family to care for me.... They would have loved me a lot less...anyway he was not happy that I didn't “duck and roll” Ha de Ha - that would have been a right sight)
With loads of physiotherapy at St Thomas. I slowly started to heal and had to reteach my brain to work differently.
I moved out of my flat. I couldn't afford to live there anymore. Couldn't go back to Camden. My wonderful human took me in gave me his front room to work. Slowly started making crazy bespoke jackets. It was great to have the help, and support. With huge encouragement, I got my online and social media sorted and got back onto the market so am at Portabello Road looking forward to the warmth and summer, even if it is only 4 days long... Oh my word! (I can feel the metal in my wrists in the cold - yuk). Now to make money get back my traction in the London… starting in Portabello Road…