If you think the worst won’t happen to you then think again!
I want to share a true story with you that those close to me will know and for others it will explain a few things I’m sure…
It’s 10.30am on an awesome Saturday morning, 10/04/1987 to be exact. I’m in my first season of men’s interclub golf and our team is hosting all the other clubs in our division. I’ve been sent to keep an eye out for errant drives on the first hole at Ohariu Valley GC and naturally I’m not that happy about standing in the rough whilst everyone else gets to play. I start making my way back to the clubhouse and stop about 50m away from some guys who are ready to tee off the 1st hole. I’ll just wait for them to hit and then go do some putting.
I remember waking up to the blue sky with screaming sirens ringing in my ears and blood was in my eyes and mouth. I tried hard to stand up but my legs were not interested in working. I could hear people shouting and then felt a couple of them help me to my feet. By this stage my head had started to clear a little and I was starting to comprehend what had actually happened. The ambulance arrived and I was on my way to Wellington Hospital.
This won’t make the medical sector look too good, they just gave me a tetanus shot (which was sorer than my head wound), put half a dozen stitches in the melon and sent me home!
Seriously? I’ve just had a major head trauma and they send me home. Anyway it all starts to go pear-shaped once I get home. Paralysis caused by a blood-clot and I’m in the ambulance for the second time that day. Surely that has to be a record!
Two weeks passed before the clot was soft enough to operate on and my neurosurgeon Dr Martin did a superb job. He was certainly a better surgeon than a hairdresser! I now had the worst haircut on the planet complete with an ugly set of staples running down the side of my head.
During the 2 weeks I was laid up I met a superb young guy by the name of Anthony Green. He was in the same ward as me and kept me sane in those long days. I couldn’t talk or move but somehow he knew I could understand him and I was very upset when he was wheeled out after his operation by his parents.
My operation was a success which is why I’m still around today but I was told at the time that I was extremely fortunate to be alive. When you get hit in the head by a missile going approximately 250kph I would tend to agree!
It was a long and painful recovery made easier by the support I had from friends and family and numerous therapists.
It was a terrible time for mum and dad and as a parent myself now I can only imagine how difficult it must have been.
Moral of the story is …
Send me your best efforts.
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