Haddie Borbély de Bradford, en Angleterre, a été frappée de plein fouet par une voiture, le 5 août 2015. Le conducteur était trop concentré sur le message texte qu’il rédigeait en conduisant, et filait à toute allure dans une zone piétonne, écrasant ainsi la jeune femme avec son véhicule.
Heureusement, les secours sont vite intervenus et ont emmené immédiatement Haddie dans un hôpital de Leeds. Pendant toute une nuit, les médecins se sont relayés pour sauver la vie de la jeune femme, grièvement blessée. Elle a de nombreuses fractures, des ligaments déchirés, une cheville cassée et un genou disloqué.
Ce qui a dévasté Haddie, passionnée de randonnée et d’escalade. À peine deux mois avant l’accident, elle avait rencontré son copain Tom. Quand les médecins lui ont dit qu’elle ne pourrait plus jamais s’adonner à ses loisirs, elle lui a dit : « Tu n’as pas à rester avec moi, je ne suis plus la fille que tu as rencontrée, et je comprendrais que tu veuilles me quitter. » Tom ne l’a toutefois pas abandonnée.
Haddie a décidé de redevenir celle qu’elle était, appuyée par son petit ami, or, la route était longue. Elle ne pouvait marcher qu’avec un appareil complexe, une structure métallique qui maintient ses os ensemble, afin qu’ils puissent se souder correctement, mais ce n’est pas sans douleurs.
Lorsque son appareil Ilizarov a été retiré, elle a dû faire face à la réalité : de nombreuses cicatrices se trouvaient là où les os avaient percé sa peau. Elle a dû subir plusieurs greffes de peau, et alors que l’été approchait, elle ne se sentait pas bien dans sa peau et craignait de porter des vêtements courts. Toutefois, elle a appris à accepter ses cicatrices qui sont une preuve de sa lutte pour sa survie. « Je suis presque morte et en tant qu’infirmière, j’ai conscience de la chance que j’ai eue. J’ai mis de côté mes craintes et appris à accepter mes cicatrices. »
Malgré ce terrible accident causé par la négligence, elle a survécu et aussi appris qu’avec de la confiance et de la volonté, elle peut tout accomplir.
Once I was able to hop around my room independently, I was incredibly keen to attempt the stairs!
In my mind, once I could master the stairs I could be discharged from the hospital! ?⛰?? I was so desperate to get #home (as lovely as the staff were), there is nothing like your own bed!
Fortunately, over my 2 month #rehabilitation, my arms had become significantly #stronger due to using them so much to lug my little self around! As a result it wasn’t too difficult to lift myself up each step.
Since I only had the ability to hop, I had to use my upper body strength to pull myself up and then rest my #Ilizarov leg on the step before lifting myself again up to the next step!
Now.. on a good day this was not too difficult… However, on days when my Ilizarov leg was causing me a lot of pain, it was considerably more #challenging to hop on my ‘good’ leg.
Once I conquered the stairs, I was so pleased.. Because it meant I could go #home. At least that was the idea I had built it in my head. Unfortunately, my #physio and the #doctors had a rather different opinion and they felt I still needed to stay in hospital.
Being as #stubborn as I am and unable to avoid the temptation to be #dogmatic in my views.. I obviously made sure they were aware of how I felt about their opinion. They agreed that if I could manage to get up the stairs at home and back down and my physiotherapist was happy, then they would allow me to be #discharged.
So… Off we went a few days later… The #ambulance crew had to lift me up the stone steps into my house in my #wheelchair as there were no rails for me to use.
Once inside, I managed (with some difficulty) to hop up the 13 stairs to my bedroom. The Physio decided I could go home.. But only once rails and other equipment were installed and I had all the equipment I would need such as:
– 2 Zimmer frames, top & bottom of the stairs
– toilet rails
– commode
– indoor stair rails
– outdoor stair rails
Well.. I was not impressed ? I must have taken my #awkward pill that day! After some deliberation, I very reluctantly, went back to the #hospital. I discussed the situation with the doctor (whom I planned to persuade to send me back home!) I gave them a great speech about my abilities, how I am hardly in any pain now, how I would be much happier at home and that everything would be just #fantastic.. And to my delight (though he was somewhat #averse) he agreed that I could go home and be confined to my room until the OT could come and arrange for the equipment to be fitted! I was over the moon!!
I can’t lie… I soon realised why the doctors and physiotherapists had been so reluctant to discharge me. On a good day I would make it to the bathroom and even downstairs to sit with my family. Though, on the days when I was in a lot of pain, I would struggle to get out of bed and across the hallway to the toilet. I realised that on those days, I would usually have the #nurses to assist me and wheel me to the bathroom or use a commode or bedpan. I realised that I no longer had reassurance from a #doctor if I woke in the night with immense pain in my #legs, I no longer had someone to consult with when my pin sites began oozing and I would feel guilty relying on family to cook for me and help me to wash and get around the house.
In hindsight, I was not physically ready to go home. But, with the support from my loved ones, I made it through those challenging times. One benefit of being home was just that… I was no longer restricted by visiting hours. I could stay with my #boyfriend, and my #friends and #family could visit me whenever they wanted and for as long as they liked. They could perch on my bed without being told off by the nurses and I could #sleep at night without being woken by the sound of a
