David Warner

I have waited almost a year before sending this in, I'm not sure why really. Did I think that I would not be around? Or that maybe I would be unable to write? Perhaps I thought I should wait a little longer and see if the dysphasia improved any more? At least then I would appear more coherent, even if I still had to read and then re-write every sentence five times before moving on. Maybe that's what I'm doing, moving on....

I flew into England early in December 2004. My Wife was visiting her Father in Kent, who had been poorly and we agreed that I would spend a few days in Hampshire on business before we caught a plane to the Caribbean for Christmas. On Friday 10th December I went to London to meet with Ray, our company's lawyer. Ray had represented the company for several years and had long ago become a good friend. We went to lunch and I was disturbed to hear that his brother had suffered a severe stroke only a few days earlier. I was told that he had survived the 1st stroke and was sitting up in bed talking to his visitors, when along came the 2nd, much more serious one. He was in a coma like state and the prognosis was not good. He was 59 years old! I commiserated with my friend and thought of his brother as I left, pulling the collar of my coat up against the cold December wind, before waving down a taxi to take me to Waterloo station.

It was no warmer when I got to Southampton. Someone from the office had sent a car to collect me and I spent a couple of hours in the office before deciding to leave for the night. It was a Friday evening, my Wife was due to meet me on Sunday, and on Monday we would be off to the Caribbean, but I had a few things to do first. I had agreed to deliver some Christmas presents, and to pop in to see some friends in the New Forest. Conscious that I was driving, I had a small beer before saying goodbye to our friends and setting off. It was still only just after 8pm.

I was only about 2 miles from our apartment when I had a very dizzy spell which lasted no more than 3 or 4 seconds, followed by a warm feeling on the left side of my head above my ear. I thought it must have been something I had eaten, or that the small beer must have gone straight to my head? I had not drunk any alcohol at lunch time, knowing that I would have to drive that evening. Surely one small beer could not make me feel dizzy? Anyway, it had gone, although I still had this warm feeling above my ear. I thought it won't be long, I should be home within 5 minutes and if I didn't feel any better, I would go to bed early.

I was travelling downhill on a dual carriageway when the car began to slow. I noticed that the needle on the rev counter had dropped and while the engine continued to run, the revs remained on tickover. Damn! I assumed that the throttle cable or linkage had broken. What a time to have a problem with the damn car! I coasted to the side of the road and put on the handbrake. It was only when I stepped from the car that I knew I was in deep trouble. I immediately fell over. I tried to stand up again and once more fell over. Each time I stood up, I immediately fell over! I half staggered and half fell to the Armco barrier at the roadside and pulled out my cell phone. I called my Wife. Straight away she realised something was wrong. My voice was slurred, but she knew I would not drive if I had drunk more than a couple of small beers. Nevertheless, she had to ask. "Of course I'm not drunk" I slurred in reply. "Where are you?" she asked. Before I could answer, the battery on the new, all singing, all dancing, phone with built in camera, voice recorder and 100 other useless functions..., died.

Traffic that passed by either did not notice me in the dark, sitting by the roadside, or chose to ignore what must have been a drunk propped up against the Armco barrier. After trying several times to turn the mobile phone on again, it had fallen out of my hand and lay just a few feet away. I pulled myself along the barrier and picked up the phone, as I did so falling over the barrier and tumbling down an embankment, coming to rest in a pile of leaves beneath some trees - out of site of the road!

I have spent a lot of time with surgeons and nurses in operating theatres, and while I knew that there was something seriously wrong, I didn't know how wrong! I couldn't have known that a vessel had burst causing a haemorrhage in my brain, flooding that part of my brain, killing cells as they were deprived of oxygen. I did know that I was paralysed on my right hand side. My right leg was twisted behind me and bleeding from a nasty gash I had picked up from a broken bottle or something similar when falling down the embankment, yet I felt no pain. I cursed myself for not realising that it was me and not the car! I had assumed it was the throttle cable, but it was now obvious to me that I had become paralysed very soon after the dizzy spell! It had been me, unable to feel the accelerator, not the cable or linkage breaking! As I lay on the ground, I could feel the ice forming on the ground as the temperature continued to drop, but I felt neither cold nor pain, only a great sadness that it would end here, alone, on this cold, dark, miserable night in December.

I was still conscious when I noticed someone standing in the shadows. "Pleesh help me" I slurred, aware that my lungs seemed to have no power. He made no move towards me, other than to cock his head as if to get a better view. Was he a mugger? I didn't know or care, take what you want I thought, just call a bloody ambulance after you leave! He stood watching me for what seemed like hours but could have been no more than 5 or 10 minutes. I tried again, very weakly this time, "help me" sounding more of a mutter than a shout or scream. Still the dark figure in the shadows remained motionless. I was about to try and say something very rude, when I heard my brother-in-law's voice above me. "David are you OK". Obviously I wasn't, but they were such welcome words. I was by now virtually incoherent, although I didn't know it. I stayed conscious until I was in the ambulance. My brother-in-law, who had been scouring my route home looking for me after receiving the call from my Wife, followed the ambulance to the hospital.

The forecast was not good. Surgeons that are close friends came to visit me at the hospital and to comfort my Wife. They gently advised my Wife to expect the worst. She was told that I had suffered a major stroke, a 'bleed' and that following a cerebral haemorrhage, the first days or weeks are the most dangerous. Thereafter the chances or survival increase significantly. The next three weeks were a blur. It was almost like slipping in and out of a coma. Three weeks after the day I had my stroke was New Years Eve. My Wife and family held a small Auld Lang Sine party in my hospital room. I was there she told me, although I don't remember it.

It was only in early January, after many of the clinicians and therapists returned from the Xmas break, and the swelling in my brain had subsided, that I realised how badly I was affected; I was paralysed completely on my right side, had (and still have) dysphasia, could not talk, walk, read or even understand what was being said to me. I could not go the bathroom alone, wash myself, or even go to toilet without help. Basically, I was in bad shape.

There are so many things that happened in those next couple of months which I cant remember, but there are so many good things that I can; The love of my family and friends, the warmth, kindness and dedication of the nurses and therapists. The goodness and selflessness of all those people who work for such little pay, yet provide so much to those who are sick. The courage of the patients themselves, many of whom have suffered far more than me, yet bear their illness with such fortitude, no, guts, that I am humbled. To all of you I could not have made it without you.

Post script:

My Father-in-Law, who my Wife was visiting when this story began, sadly died in July.

My Lawyer's brother sadly did not recover consciousness from the 'bleed'. He died of his stroke a few days after I was admitted to hospital.

I still go to physio every other day, this, and as a result of the help of so many; I can walk, talk, and even write a little. The Dysphasia is still a major problem, but it's a lot better than it was a year ago, and I'm still working on it.

And the man in the shadows who vanished? I never found out. Maybe it was the grim reaper...

Thanks to David for sending in his profile. Anyone else who would like to share their story can send it along with a photograph (if you're not shy!)

• c/o PROFILES,
• Click here for address